My personality leans toward the "be early" everywhere rule. No hurry, no worry. The first in line, relax, unwind!!!
So naturally returning to Atlanta from Boston, recently, we arrived at the airport early. I stroll through the airport, I like watching people. Sipping my java, and accumulating new mags to read. Finding "my center" before I board an airplane, makes me a peaceful flyer.Observing the mass of humanity that travels, can unravel your nerves. Then seeing them trying to squeeze pieces of luggage, the size of three continents, into the overhead, I need to be calm.
As I was "people watching", I noticed this young man, an airline employee. He was wandering around asking people about, free computer crap, stuff. Normally that would not have even raised my eyebrows, but he looked like my Ward, and it startled me.His hairline, his teeth, his arms. I had a brief moment to be near my son again. I knew it wasn't Ward, but grief tries to trick you sometimes. Watching him for over an hour, from every angle, my heart pounding in my chest.
I asked Bill several times, didn't he look like Ward, and he agreed. I think my eyes filled with tears, were making him nervous. Sometimes I would notice Bill watching me, not knowing how to help me.Should I go say hello to this child, can I touch him? Maybe it would scare him? To tell someone that they look like your dead son, is not something you may want to hear? Would he be receptive of me hugging him? These are all thoughts running through my head, my eyes still locked on his every move. I could scar him for life, or he could understand my broken heart, what to do?
The time escaped me and we were boarding the plane, I had to walk near him. One last look at "the boy" and he smiled, Ward's smile, and it was OK. I was OK. The likeness of my child, gave me some comfort. It is to hard to try and explain. I just know that who ever said ,"It is not polite to stare" was wrong.
So naturally returning to Atlanta from Boston, recently, we arrived at the airport early. I stroll through the airport, I like watching people. Sipping my java, and accumulating new mags to read. Finding "my center" before I board an airplane, makes me a peaceful flyer.Observing the mass of humanity that travels, can unravel your nerves. Then seeing them trying to squeeze pieces of luggage, the size of three continents, into the overhead, I need to be calm.
As I was "people watching", I noticed this young man, an airline employee. He was wandering around asking people about, free computer crap, stuff. Normally that would not have even raised my eyebrows, but he looked like my Ward, and it startled me.His hairline, his teeth, his arms. I had a brief moment to be near my son again. I knew it wasn't Ward, but grief tries to trick you sometimes. Watching him for over an hour, from every angle, my heart pounding in my chest.
I asked Bill several times, didn't he look like Ward, and he agreed. I think my eyes filled with tears, were making him nervous. Sometimes I would notice Bill watching me, not knowing how to help me.Should I go say hello to this child, can I touch him? Maybe it would scare him? To tell someone that they look like your dead son, is not something you may want to hear? Would he be receptive of me hugging him? These are all thoughts running through my head, my eyes still locked on his every move. I could scar him for life, or he could understand my broken heart, what to do?
The time escaped me and we were boarding the plane, I had to walk near him. One last look at "the boy" and he smiled, Ward's smile, and it was OK. I was OK. The likeness of my child, gave me some comfort. It is to hard to try and explain. I just know that who ever said ,"It is not polite to stare" was wrong.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.