I wasn't nervous anymore. I was just numb. I didn't know what to envision. Would our reunion be teary? Nonchalant? I'm not the kind of person to run weeping into a long-lost's arms... yet, I totally do picture that, in my head. Too many sappy, morning-show, homecoming videos, maybe? I was concerned about Little One; how would she handle it all? How would I? How would he? I had also this somewhat irrational fear that this plane, the final link to bring him home to us, would crash. I couldn't shake it. I felt so guarded, so anxious, so thrilled, so muddled.
The morning was all logistics. How to get the house clean, while a Toddler excitedly un-cleaned behind me. How to get in the car on time, early enough to appeal for Gate Passes (which means standing in long, baggage lines with all the other passengers) but late enough that Little One would be tired enough to sleep on the way - not so overtired she'd scream for the whole drive.
Several things went wrong. I slept through my alarm. I never do that. I'm sure it means something psychologically, when you fail to wake up on a day that you're not sure if you're dreading. But, in any case, it totally threw off my careful plan. We did get in the car, but later than my ideal, and I borderline hyperventilated for most of the hour-long journey. I finally started calling people, and leaving voicemails, to calm myself. It felt weird that I was still numb.
Baby slept like an angel. I woke her to feed her in the parking garage. It was all going smoothly. But, I'd worn the most impractical, uncomfortable heels in my closet. I always forget how bad they are, heh. But today, we had to walk over snow and ice and slush in them, while carrying a 20 lb child and several awkward parcels. No, I didn't grab her stroller. Also dumb. But, on the off-chance that we did get gate passes, I didn't want one more item to take through security.
I got suddenly dizzy, entering the terminal. I realized I wasn't breathing. I stopped, readjusted my hanging baby, (how do you teach them to grip you with their wee legs again?!) inhaled several times, and noticed I was quivering from neck to fingers to ankles. So much adrenaline. Maybe I could convince myself that this was off-the-chain levels of excitement?
We met up with our photographer at this point. She was so calm and not-terrified. I tried to act calm. In reality, I chattered blindly. After staggering through the wrong line once, fumbling with my wallet, nearly leaving my military ID on the counter, and jabbering like a caffeinated bird, we had gate passes. Hallelujah. Security did not go smoothly, (I somehow had more stray items than when we travel) but Little One was sweet and just getting through more steps of the process was helping me. Faintly.
A long walk later, we were at the gate 25 minutes before his arrival. I chatted more with the photographer, and outgoing passengers overheard our conversation. An older couple got very teary-eyed, and he handed me a wad of dollar bills: "Go take your husband out to dinner, somewhere real nice." I choked back abrupt tears. Another elderly woman offered to take video with my camera, if I'd show her how to do it. Teaching her used up several minutes. Yay.
Then, I noticed the airline staff scuttling around. Was the plane arriving early? I went to ask. "Yes, it'll be here in about three minutes." Holy macaroni, I was glad we'd arrived so early!
I suddenly got a text from Husband. (FROM HIS OWN CELL PHONE! HIS REAL PHONE!) The plane had landed. Oh no, I'd forgotten to tell him we'd gotten gate passes; I'd promised to text him! I fired off a quick "AT GATE!" text, hoping his phone would receive it promptly. Then, we began waiting.
Passengers streamed off the plane. I, the photographer, and a whole crowd of people were craning our necks to seen down the curved jetway, trying to glimpse him. But, he didn't come. Five minutes and three false-starts of our video camera later, the people stopped streaming off the plane. Even the pilots had deplaned. I was starting to feel sick. Had he died in the past two minutes? Were we at the wrong gate?
Then, I saw a flash of camouflage. It was running, bouncing up the corridor. I started crying, called out "He's coming!" and began narrating to Little One, "There he is!!!" The numbness caved in. He was crying, I was sobbing, tears were dripping off my chin, and it was impossible not to rush together.
Everyone cheered. Others cried. Not like they had reason to, like we did, but it was pretty much like a movie moment.
She wasn't scared of him at all. Being accosted by a giant green person messed with her a little at first, but within minutes, she was stroking his face and clearly knew this was Daddy, come back to us, finally.
She didn't want him to hold her yet, but murmured hushed "Da-Da"s all the way to baggage. I couldn't stop quivering. We look so oddly normal in all the photos. In reality, it was the biggest emotional rush EVER.
Reunion joy doesn't compensate for the months of deployment misery, but man; such unspeakable joy.
So this is love.
I love. =)
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