I used to love airports. I wanted to work in one. Anywhere – didn’t matter, I could’ve rung the cash register at the Hudson News. I just loved how many different people were always there, traveling the world. I loved hearing different accents, I was always so excited, clutching my ticket and rushing toward the gate, or collapsing exhausted into a chair by the window after finishing a vacation, ready to go home. It was always fascinating, exciting. What I didn’t realize was that half of that excitement was experiencing airports with someone. Then, my flights started being more and more lonely, and soon I was getting canceled flights, I was “sleeping” in rows of chairs huddled in empty terminals like Tom Hanks. Then, I wasn’t allowed to fly home with my husband, and now every time I get on the damn plane, I’m leaving someone behind to see someone else I left behind before.
Now I hate airports. I hate the ridiculous lines for security. I hate them because I’m usually stressed and tired (I’ll be tired tomorrow AM too – on purpose, so I can sleep through it all once I get to my seat and make it go by faster) and I have to lug all of my stuff around because I’m alone and people get freaked out about luggage unattached to a human. I make friends normally, though I rarely begin the conversation, and when a flight gets delayed, delayed-delayed-canceled completely until tomorrow, friends are nice to have – especially if they’re retired teachers from Maine that travel the world and see the canceled flight as “a gift and an opportunity.” Those two were amazing humans. But still, I overly hate airports, now, when I see it as just a means to an end in my crazy life that makes me cross the Atlantic by myself entirely too often.
When I’m traveling with people I love, the curiosity comes back. When Rami and I were in Istanbul, I couldn’t stop staring – so much color, so many different people, I was a kid all over again. So I know it’s the alone part that’s the problem. The leaving people behind part. The never having everyone all together at home home part. This time around I’ll be up at the Farm for most of the time I’m there, and I’m excited for a whirlwind of a week of activity surrounded by what I know will be an incredible wedding, but tomorrow is still a no-fun airport alone, and I just hope Boston comes into view as quickly as possible.