The other day mom came home from Costa Rica. If I were a ‘normal’ person I would tell you a sob story of how great the ‘reunion’ was and all that dramatic stuff. But no, to me, she was gone a week. Just a week. She used to leave for time amounts like that all the time. It might’ve been different had it been longer, but it wasn’t. To me, the main experience of that was the airport itself. As soon as I opened the car door I could smell the airplane gas. To me it’s a beautiful smell, marks adventure. The airport terminal is beautiful. Not because of the architecture or the strange mix of people, but because of what it is, I couldn’t stop looking at it or I might’ve taken a picture for you.
The airplanes, the big heavy metal ‘birds’ so to speak were waiting on the asphalt for their passengers. Most were unloading though, having completed their task, awaiting the next group.
People of all sorts would flutter to their friends and family, I watched this one group in particular.
“I wonder what she’s gonna be like, afterall it’s been 9 years” Inquires the tall blond boy
“Probably won’t like you anymore” an elder looking woman shoves him
“I bet you I’ll spot her first” he jabbed
“You probably don’t even remember what she looks like”
I saw a young woman emerge from the crowd waving at them, but they were too caught up in their argument to see her. I had to laugh as I whispered “I saw her first” about 47 seconds later the boy spotted her “There she is! I saw her first!” and they ran up and hugged her. I am still unaware what position in this group the woman held, but 9 years is such a long time… Where had she been? Why 9 years and not 10? Questions I’ll probably never know the answer to.
I looked around the terminal again. Last time I had been here I was returning from Costa Rica myself. Next time I would be coming I would be on my way there. Something about that country calls to me. Sure, I plan to one day go to Scotland, but it doesn’t call to me. Not like Costa Rica does. Sure I cried when the van pulled away after goodbyes, but it didn’t REALLY hit me until our plane left the Costa Rican soil behind. And it’s almost time to go back. I cannot wait to see it again. Costa Rica isn’t the most perfect country out there by far. All countries have their problems, but I love it.
The airway is a passage, the trail to your destination. Like life, you can’t control where your plane is going once you’ve boarded, that’s the pilot’s job. But it’s up to you to board the right plane.
Live long and prosper, Tori Lynn.