A few hours from now I’ll be wandering the airport, surrounded by tense faces and eager travelers, some going home, some running away, some with little more than a few changes of clothes and a toothbrush readied for a short business-related jaunt; some, like me, starting a new adventure, a new life, a trans-Atlantic flight being all that separates them from the anxious, welcoming arms of a loved one; for some, a new chapter; in my case, a long-awaited sequel.
The past week has been filled with organizing, packing, culling, repacking, farewell Facebook messages, coffee dates, promises of staying in touch; staying close whilst being far apart, separated by distance and time zones but hoping, at least, to hold on to the old familiarities while experiencing the new realities. Seeing friendly faces that, in some cases, I’ll never see again. Seeing some that I will miss every day, some that will forget, move on, relegating our shenanigans to fuzzy remembrances and sepia-toned memories. Leaving behind family, friends, challenges, successes, regrets, annoyances, the good, the bad, the ugly; some memories that I wish would still feel recent, fresh, ageless; and others that taunt and torment no matter how many miles I run.
A few hours from now I will be one of the anonymous airport masses, wandering aimlessly though duty-free temptations and overhead announcements, jostling though the throngs of tourists, shifting restlessly on uncomfortable lounge seating with stale kiosk coffee and the inevitable screaming child(ren) running amok nearby. I’ll think of who and what I leave behind, the lives I’ll peripherally hear about, the disconnect I (we?) will feel, despite our best efforts otherwise. I’ll quietly bid farewell to these Canadian shores, staring out over the dark sea and focusing on my version of The New World. And several hours later, after a fitful sleep, questionable meal options, dank recycled air and (again) those inevitable screaming children, I’ll bound off the plane, off to a new life, and into the arms of my wonderfully patient wife. The day’s finally here, I’ll finally be there, and we’ll be together… finally.
