Unexpected First

It didn’t occur to me that my trip to the airport today would be my first return to an airport since the last time Chris and I traveled together. It sure hit me once I got into the ticketing area, though, and almost stopped me dead in my tracks. I felt light-headed and panicked as I walked past the Starbuck’s, Dunkin’ Donuts and other restaurants, remembering the feeling of traveling with my husband. Chris loved being at the airport. He loved traveling.

As I walked the length of terminal B, I was hit with rapid-fire memories of our travel experiences together: sitting on the floor eating donuts, stop-overs spent eating french fries, reading and napping on each others’ shoulders.

I didn’t expect the ribbon-like barriers (the kind that are usually in the bank) to choke me up the way they did. I felt a surge of hopeless tears coming on and had to concentrate and tell myself that I was not going to cry in the airport. Not that I wouldn’t have in another circumstance, but I was meeting Larry with his documents and I didn’t feel like exposing myself for the grief-stricken, skittish, widow that I am. I took a deep breath and relaxed.

Another one down.