Post by susan on Apr 26, 2011 22:08:00 GMT -5
How do you show love? How do you show those who love you how much you would do for them, how much you want to do for them, how much you want to care for them? Some people very rarely get an opportunity to allow actions to speak louder than words. This relationship is one of those situations.
I've always been the one to call, the one who would always do the favor, and the doormat of every friendship. I always find myself volunteering to complicate my schedule. Today I was, once again, that person. But today it was my selfishness that brought me to volunteering.
After cramming far too much into far too little space I wiped my brow and buckled up to take my crush on an errand before dropping him at the airport. We headed north to meet his old friend for lunch. The closer we got the more nervous I was to meet this girl and suffer through a meal as a fly on the wall. I've never fit in his circle of friends and I was definitely never part of this "in crowd". As the grown up of every situation with him I always feel like the sober one in a room of drunks. This was going to be torture but it would be worth it to spend every last minute with him.
To my great surprise there was no suffering. The friend was a lovely young lady who brought her beautiful and remarkable children and her mother, who reminded me a lot of my own back when she was well. We had a great time! Lunch on the beach with warm people turned out to be one of the sweetest meals. The fun stories of their past, the witty banter, and the love and joy of being helpful was bliss. We broke bread together and shared food, I loved feeding him and watching him play with the friend's daughter. He is so great with kids, a true glimpse into his very guarded heart. Our love was palpable. The little girl assumed we were a couple and that he was the father of my children. Why is it a three year old can see and feel more by looking at me than my husband of more than a decade ever has?
After lunch we headed south for the airport. I started to get emotional, knowing I would soon have to say goodbye, not knowing when I would see him again. The struggle in my heart brought me pain. After a very normal, everyday afternoon - one I wished were part of my every day - I felt my guard going up. The ride was silent, I was tense.
We arrived early and quickly decided to get a few more kisses in at the cell phone parking lot. Those few minutes were spent staring into each other's eyes, breathing in each other's scents, and tasting each other's lips. I wanted to remember everything. How soft his bald head was, how long the stubble on his face was, how kind his eyes were and how beautiful his deep dimples were. He is such a strong, handsome man. We both regretted letting each other go all those years ago that lead us down different paths. It is those different paths that brought us here though, with an appreciation for our circumstances and our past. The deja vu of this goodbye was strangely familiar.
We begrudgingly finished our journey to the terminal when it was time. He insisted I drop him at the curb, that between his charm and independence he would be fine. I pulled to the curb and started to unload the car full of supplies, luggage and toys that only a 30-something child-at-heart would have to bring back. The baggage help quickly convinced us that we should stay together until he was checked in so I jumped in the car and raced to park. Once inside I sped through the airport, baggage claim, and ticketing, desperate to find him. My heart was racing and I was sweating, I didn't want him to miss his flight.
As soon as our eyes met I was immediately calm. We checked his barrage of stuff and learned I would be able to escort him to the plane. When explaining the situation to the airline agents we danced around titles - friend, girlfriend, wife. I was wearing my wedding ring after all, the one my husband put on my finger on our wedding day. The husband that had no idea someone else was flirting with the idea of calling me wife. I'm pretty sure we were both blushing. We got his boarding pass and headed to security.
At security we had reached a whole new level of normalcy. For a moment we were traveling together. We were going "home" together. I was loading his carry on items, removing his shoes, and mine. I lied to the screener about his water, vitamin water that was completely necessary to take onboard of course, and realized that his confidence and charm to convince others was starting to rub off on me. I went through the metal detector as he went through special screening. My love is bound to a wheelchair to get around, a minor detail that occasionally causes logistical hurdles. They swabbed his chair, used a wand to detect metal, and once he was free we started to load his lap with the mountain of carry on items he had. I kneeled to put his shoes on and felt pangs of sadness knowing this would be my last time kneeling at his feet.
When we got to the gate for boarding we were running late. The agent halted boarding of the other passengers to get him on. She apologized when she said I couldn't go any further, that it was time to say goodbye. Had we known that we probably would have said our goodbyes before reaching the audience of passengers waiting to board. Instead we were put on the spot and faced with the decision of how to say goodbye. Do we hug, do we kiss, do we just say - "goodbye"? He grabbed me and pulled me close, kissed me hard like no one was watching and in our minds no one was. I had tears in my eyes and my heart was begging to hear the words "come with me". They never came. I couldn't have gone, but I desperately wanted to. I turned to leave as he negotiated the transfer out of his chair and the giant group of people behind me were crying and clapping. Apparently it was some show. It felt just like a movie. I walked as fast as I could, tears streaming down my hot, red face as I fled the airport.
When I got the parking garage I was more lost than ever. My heart hurt, my eyes stung, and I had no idea where I left the car. I walked around aimlessly until my phone rang. It was him. He was on the plane. I sat in the window of the parking garage, staring at his plane from across the airport. He didn't have much to say but he did say "I love you". It cut like a hot knife through butter. We chatted a little more before it was time for him to go. It was so hard knowing home wasn't here, as it once was. That I had no idea when I'd see him again, but I knew I would. I think I said I loved him back but honestly I was so emotional it all seems a little fuzzy.
I was still looking for the car, a rented handicap accessible van. I walked around for an hour, searching every floor, coming up empty handed. I went back inside the airport to retrace my steps. I was in such a hurry when I parked and such a hurry to leave, that I didn't realize I had been searching the wrong garage this whole time. Once I found the car I was relieved, even though I felt stupid. Once inside I felt hollow. The van was a minivan with a ramp and no first row of passenger seats. It had big metal tie downs to keep a wheelchair secure. The van was empty, so empty. This was the first time I was in the van alone. It was so quiet.
I drove out to the toll booth to leave. I couldn't find my parking ticket - anywhere. I ripped through my purse, checked the nooks and crannies of the van, it was nowhere. In my haste I had misplaced it which was upsetting me even more. The cashier had to fill out a report and copy my driver's license. I kept explaining to her that I needed to go - I needed to get out of there. I didn't tell her it was because I had no control over my emotions and I needed time to lose my mind and mourn the emptiness I was feeling. She didn't care. She had no compassion. It felt like forever before she let me go, it was probably close to 15 minutes. Once I was gone the sadness turned to anger. I don't remember being nice to that poor cashier. It wasn't her fault I lost my ticket. I called every friend that would talk to me. I needed consoling. They did what they could, they said all the things I wanted to hear.
The drive back to his parents' home took a lifetime. I thought I'd never get there. His mom called to make sure I was ok. Was it written all over my face? I told her I was. I arrived and knocked on the door to return the car keys. His young niece answered. The only times she saw me I was with him. She looked past me and asked where he was. I told her I had dropped him off at the airport, that he was headed home. I'll never forget her response - "he's already gone?!" - indeed he was and now we both looked heart broken. I returned the keys and took my car to head back into my life. The life he's not a part of, the life he only knows stories of. The life with the big empty hole that is love and passion.
I waited all night for the call. He was home, safely. All was well with the world. The world that marched on outside of my body. I was numb so I went to bed. I slept next to my husband like I do every night. I dreamed of him as I have every day since. Sweet dreams my love!
