Airports.

Airports. They fascinate me. Partly because I've never flown anywhere, so half of every airport is still a mystery to me, and partly because I've only ever been to one airport, but I've been there half a dozen times or so to pick people up.

I'm also fascinated by people watching, and airports are one of the prime locations for this.

Today, my bestest best friend came home after six months, and I got to be the one who brought her home. I got there early, and waited about half an hour, studying everyone I could. There was only one expected flight between the time I got there and the next two hours, so I knew everyone waiting was waiting for Calgary. Three groups of people particularly caught my eye.

The first was hard not to notice. There were five of them all told; a middle aged-woman, two women up in their twenties or thirties, a boy about fourteen, and a two-year-old girl who could not stop running around. The women kept telling the toddler to look out the window for "uncle", and I figured out that the man they were waiting for was the son of the oldest woman, the brother of the two younger women, and the uncle of the two children. I wondered what he was like. Would he also be wearing baggy sweatpants? Would he be excited to see this toddler? Would he be a carry on-only type, or have more baggage?

Another person I studied was a boy. Seemingly alone, about twenty, twenty-two. A few visible tatooes, big headphones, punk/hipster clothes. He seemed so out of place, and I couldn't imagine who he'd be waiting for. A mother? A close friend? Maybe grandma? He too seemed to be people-watching, and I couldn't help but wonder what he thought I was there for.

The third "group" in my mind was an older woman, somewhere in her fifties or sixties. She sat alone, munching on peanuts, staring out the window. I figured husband or child. Either way, the melancholy look etched into her face made me want to keep an eye out and figure out who she was thinking about.

So a quick note of explanation; my best friend was on a six-month country-wide volunteer program. A ton of groups were posted all over the country, but all ended today, because the program was officially shut down, which is really sad. I haven't seen or talked to her since she left, except the occasional texting.


Finally, a few minutes late, the plane arrived, and people started to file down the escalator and stairs. At first, I was super excited, and then I got more and more nervous. What if she looked so different I didn't recognize her? Would we hug right away? Would she be with anyone? Would she be excited to see me?

I felt like the plane emptied twice over, so many people came down those stairs. In the mean time, I saw the large group of people meet their son/brother/uncle. He wore a business suit, hugged every woman a few times, held the toddler, kissed her forehead, and genuinely seemed happy to be with them. It warmed my heart.

I watched an airport attendant roll an elderly lady in a wheelchair to the elevator. As they were waiting for it, the lady grinned and waved and the woman with the peanuts waved back. There was a distinct resemblance; the kind that makes you realize that this one will look like that one in another twenty years. Huh, I thought. I never would have guessed she was waiting for her mother. As I watched, I longed to know their story, but I know I never will. I can only postulate.

And finally, I saw her! I recognized her instantly, and her me. We waved, and grinned, and she practically bounced down the stairs with her carry ons to hug me. We hugged a few times, and grinned, and studied each other, and finally made our way to the luggage thing. She wore a team group t-shirt thing, and I saw three other people wearing identical ones. One girl hung near us, and I learned she wouldn't be heading home for a few more hours, because no one could pick her up right away. Another girl joined a large family I hadn't seen at all, and the last one raced over to the punk/hipster boy, and hugged him for ten minutes, at least. They just stood there, in each other's arms, soaking in the missed company. It might have brought tears to my eyes if I hadn't been so excited about my own story.

The problem I find with people watching, is that I always long to know so much more. I want to know the why's, and the who's, and the how's. I want to know all about what brought those people to that moment in time, but I have to make do with what little understanding I can make up.