Sunday, September 11, 2005

Airport Good-byes: The Last Casualty

L. and I picked up a friend from the airport this afternoon. Here, four years later after THE day. You know the one. THE day that will live in infamy. THE day that will never disappear from this generation's radar. As we were in a circling pattern in the pick-up / drop-off zone, it occured to me how cold arrivals and departures have become. It's another casualty of the "war on terra" and another liberty that was taken from us because of the events of THE day.

The Love of my life is going to be getting on a plane in a few weeks to go to Australia for fourteen days. Although I know that I'll manage, I want to have an extended good-bye in the terminal. I want to embrace her and wrap my arms around her moments before she boards that plane. I want to watch her plane taxi down the runway and take off, watching it until it's outta sight and then would I slowly make my own way home. I want all of these things but none of that takes place anymore. Those goodbyes are all relics of a bygone era. All of that is taken away from us. Nowadays, people barely slow down at the drop-off point long enough for a frantic passenger to hop out, bags in tow. It's all so cold.

I don't like it at all.

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