This showed up on my timeline from a few years ago...it's one of my favorite things I've ever written... I hope you enjoy. And I hope you do what it takes to make your life a little more like the airport...Dawn ❤️😉 “THE AIRPORT” I am a people watcher. Whether I am traveling, or the one meeting or dropping someone off, I love going to the airport. I love the "Hello", the "Goodbye", the "I'll miss you", and the wiping of another's tears, with a whispered, "Please don't cry." I love the outpouring of emotion. I love the warm, welcoming embraces, the kisses, the contact without words, that says so MUCH. For that moment, we don't care who sees. For that moment, everything else around us disappears. I love the way we carelessly "drop our baggage," and reach out. For a moment, we let go of our own THINGS; and instead, hold on to EACH OTHER. I love the last turn-around before someone disappears from view. I love the moment someone looks back for their loved one to be still looking, and the confirmation they receive when they see it. I love the way people enjoy every last drop of one another. I love the laughter, the happy raised voices, the way we clamor and reach and shuffle to make room for another's presence. I even love the emptiness at departure; for it means someone that matters took up a valuable space in us. I love the lingering touch, hands that don't want to let go, I love the way people actually look into each others' eyes, and capture the other's essence for one last time. I love the nervous anticipation of a long-awaited meeting, the first warm hug, the romantic public kiss, the happy tears of reunion. I love the way folks instinctively offer their own hands and shoulders to help carry the loads of a weary traveler. I love, that love at the airport has SKIN on it. I love the tears. People at the airport don't have time to muster fake or rehearsed emotion, and they don't hold back. There just isn't time. Tears flow freely; and for brief moments, no one makes apologies for their wide-open hearts. Words expressed at the airport might not be, otherwise; in other circumstances, or in other places. Thoughts drift to how fast time is passing, how much someone really means, and that it may be a long time before moments shared happen again. In our darkest places, we even briefly ponder that we may not see someone again--ever. So, we celebrate our time together, we hold on tightly for just one more moment. We take a long, deep breath, and slowly release. At the airport, people are acutely and intensely aware that time is short; and they say and do what is necessary to reassure and show their loved one that they matter, that they are cared for, that their time together was important. I would that more of life was like the airport. ~ Dawn Read
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