There's a saying that goes "I would gladly live from a suitcase if it meant I could travel the world" and for me that couldn't be truer.. I smile to myself as I lay in the midst of the autumn season snuggled warm in blankets of flannel freshly cleaned after a shower.. Which I most definetly needed after a harsh workout.. As I lay here I smile to myself.. My mother, my own flesh and blood has set up a trip... For December.. A trip to see the ocean. How magical it truly is.. I sniff to myself.. I can smell the ocean... Or is it just the remnants of the candle left burning but blown out only moments ago? One may never know... As if the ocean doesn't entice me enough to think of the airports simply takes the cake! Elderly men calling me affectionately "Sweety pie" and talking on and on about how I remind them of their granddaughters. They tell stories of a much simpler time before cell phones and Facebook.. I sigh to myself.. If I was in that time what would I be doin now? I most certainly wouldn't be writing this! They would continue to talk about a war.. A scary war.. A war in which any soldier would be scarred with the remnants of the battlefield. He talks fondly of a fallen brother in arms and I choke down a lump in my throat as he speaks with such beauty.. About a man who died.. For me.. And everyone else of the USA... It reminds me of Christ.. As we walk to our next gate I see business men on cell phones.. I smell cinnamon rolls.. I see couples holding hands.. I reached out and grabbed the hand of my brother and receive a very interesting look.. I just smile back and through the look I give back to him I communicate he smiles almost laughingly and nods his head, he knows how magical airports are for me.. And how also terrifying they are.. He knows my fear of getting lost. He simply states "you will only get lost if you think you'll get lost.. I can't keep you in the family forever, you must someday be alone.. And then you may get lost cause you won't have practice of paying attention.." I roll my eyes.. He can't begin to fathom the thanksgiving I feel at this moment. The magical fairy dust of blood running through my God-created veins, he will never understand, but my brother of 7 years age older (at this time I do believe I was 10) simply smiles and guides me and my hand through the crowds of people and onto the plane so I don't have to pay attention to where I'm going and just breathe in the beauty of the place. He doesn't claim to understand what I mean by magic, but he understands enough to not discourage or tease me. We arrive at the plane and start boarding.. I meet the attendants for the flights.. With their shock red lipstick and pearly white teeth they smile at me and say "welcome aboard!" I wish I could wear lipstick so red and smile so bright.. We fly for hours and hours to finally arrive at the destination. Once we leave the plane the air hits: we have arrived! The smell of adventure is in the air, the excitement of a new place looks about and coffee invites me nearer.... " Will it be an adventure here?" I ask myself aloud, "it's only an adventure if you have an eye to see the electricity in the air" replies my dear brother with a wink "and if I know you, you have the eye.. But not so much for where were going.. Hold on and breathe it in!" To which he holds his hand out and we walk as a family to the car rental kiosk...
May your travels and days be magical,
Nilly
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