A getaway is good. Even if the concert gets cancelled, the power goes out a lot, the heat is nearly unbearable and the hotel just isn’t that great.
It’s still a getaway. It’s still a new place, some time just the two of us, some time to see friends, and eat a few meals out. Some time to wander, to snap photos of random things, to make your way on new streets.
But coming home – ahhh, that’s the best. When we got off the plane last night in Sydney, it was 11:30 pm. The little baggage claim/arrivals gate was full to the brim with relatives and friends waiting to greet the people getting off the plane. While Adam went to smoke and I waited for my suitcase, I just stood and watched all the reunions. A little boy ran so hard into his grandpa’s knees and hugged him tight. Women passed a baby around a small circle, and my did they look proud of that little one. Two aloof young men grinned wide at each other, high-fived and did a quick man-hug. Love was there, for sure, in the airport last night.