The Airport...

The Airport is full of emotion! Every time that I'm there it gets me like nothing else in this world does. You see, at the Airport, we've met many special people in our lives for the first time. We first met Debbie Ninmann and her son JJ there as they traveled all the way from Wisconsin with cheese in hand just to visit and meet with us for the first time and second time. On that first trip, I remember saying to her that I would be wearing a hot pink puffy vest after all, I needed to stand out since we'd never met. We also met Anicka Groff for the as she entered her new home state for the first time, and Evan was reunited with her for the first time in over a year since living together in Russia. At only 2 they seemed to reconnect and remember each other as they hugged so tightly. We were reunited with the Schattes after what seemed like a long separation of family apart. Then of course, we recently met Mike, Judy, and Skip Holmes there as we spent several hours with them as they spent their 6 hour layover in ATL headed yet again to Russia. We're praying that when they return home from Russia, we will be able to meet them again and for the first time meet Harry! All of these memories are so special to me, but of course, they don't compare to the emotion that fills me when I introduced my son to our family and friends for the very first time in that waiting area just before you reach baggage claim!

As we exit off of the interstate and follow the signs to the South Terminal it begins a bit. However, it is as soon as we park the car and get out it hits me like a flood gate breaking that I can't control. I immediately take a deep breath and feel a lump begin to build in my throat as I quickly fight back the tears, EVERY TIME.

Yes, I'm a sentimental gal. Clay jokes and says, "That I could cry watching Scooby-Doo" though I don't think I'm that bad. That's just who I am, take it or leave it, I can be strong when the time is necessary but I can cry at the sappiest of things.

As soon as we park the car and get out it begins. The sounds in the parking deck, cars driving, trunks and doors slamming shut, the bumpy sound of luggage being wheeled through, voices chattering, and then as you exit the parking deck and begin to cross the street, you take in more sounds. The distant hum of airplanes taking off and landing, the sounds and smells of diesel buses lined in a row...oh that smell! That sweet - yet horrible smell (one that on a cold day smells just like Russia) that smell is one that really triggers it for me. Then as you cross the street and wave a thank you to the cars who stopped to let you pass, that lump gets tighter and tighter in my throat and I can no longer fight the tears that begin to puddle in my eyes. Clay looks at me and just smiles every time, because he just gets me and he knows. This time Evan asked, "Is it a happy cry?"(he's learning too) "Oh yes, my darling," I replied and I began to explain it to him a little bit. The feeling continues as we enter through the automatic doors and the loudness begins to over come me, the announcements made over the PA system, the busyness of everyone rushing around, the stillness of everyone watching for their bags to come around. Then we walk past baggage claim there in the south terminal where our suitcases once sat until they were the last ones on the convair belt. We then enter an area filled with a few rows of seats as people stand and sit waiting and watching for their loved ones to come down the escalator. The escalator that to those waiting must seem as long as the ones in the subway in Moscow. Not to mention the sights of the men and women who serve our country and the applause that they receive when they step off of it, for that's a whole separate post.

It's in those very rows of seats that our family and friends, probably not so patiently waited with their "Welcome Home" signs, cameras, balloons, and stuffed dog, in hand to meet our son for the very first time. Also, where we crowed the areas so badly with the 30 something people that were there that I can't believe we weren't asked to move.

It's there as we return to the airport each time, that as we sit down with Evan next to me waiting, that I am finally able to get a hold of myself. I wipe my eyes, and thank God for my son and for that very special place on earth that for me, other than my home with my family, is absolutely my favorite spot in the whole world.

Mimi, Pops, and Wes. The emotion on my Mom's face says it all in this picture.

Amma and Ampa rushing past everyone to greet us.