Yesterday I arrived.
Waiting at the airport -
got through too fast...was there something we forgot to do?
Wandering through customs looking dazed and all of a sudden we were under a sign that said 'Arrivals'. And we were free.
Tris - getting drinks.
Me – waiting with the bags. Looking for Mum and Dad.
Slow stream of people milling around and moving through the terminal.
They wont be carrying bags, or dragging heavy suitcases.
Ignore those figures which are.
Dad will be taller, with broad shoulders - somewhat coat created shoulders. Never takes off his coat unless completely necessary. Temperature in the airport: not hot – coat will be on.
Mum will have short brown, no silver, hair, cut like some of the more stylish Parisian women and she will be wearing the coat from New Zeland
No – not them- both wearing coats but they have bags.
Not those two either – they have a toddler.
Not them. Though the height difference is about right.
Wait.
His shoulders wide but thinner than before.
She has cropped hair, but its shorter, more stylish than remembered from the photos. The coat is right. No one else would have that coat.
That’s them. It is. It’s them.
They are quite far - walking towards me.
I’ll meet them half way, yes,walking now.
YES! It is definitely them.They haven’t seen me yet, almost. There! Mum rushes forward and Dad stands back, but smiles and clasps his gloved hands and waits.
