For a long time, I've been on the other end of the terminal, waiting for my flight with other passengers, too tired to care about anything other than finding the right gate, having my boarding pass in my pocket, and keeping an eye on my departure time. I was always leaving, going somewhere.
On Tuesday, I got a taste of what it's like to be on the other side of the sliding doors. You're surrounded by people nervously pacing back and forth, waiting for loved ones to arrive. Some are holding balloons or a fresh bouquet of flowers while others are flipping through a magazine at a nearby concession stand, minus the occasional glance at the clock. After doing a little bit of everything, I ended up waiting by the metal bars with the rest of the crowd, where I witnessed some of life's most precious moments.
I couldn't believe how choked up I got seeing parents embrace children returning from trips overseas and a man embracing his young twins after a business trip. Even the TV screen that kept replaying real reunions between soldiers and their families stirred up something from the pit of my stomach. Eventually, I stood mesmerized, trying to figure out the stories and relationships behind each happy ending that unfolded before my eyes.
After what seemed like forever, it was my turn!
After a year of teaching English in Korea, my brother finally walked through those doors.
Oh happy day!
