Airport Musings

Somewhere, I read that losing a spouse is like losing your language. Suddenly, you have no one to speak it with.

I feel that way now while sitting in the Denver airport, people-watching while waiting to fly home for the holidays. I watch, and I want to roll my eyes at Adam, give him that knowing look as the rich blonde woman, dressed head to toe in pink headed to Sun Valley for a skiing holiday, thinks everyone wants to hear her rat dog bark in the terminal. I can see Adam’s face right now as she gets down on her knees in front of another dog to publicly coo.

I have no one to look at and share my language with. No more inside jokes, except those inside my head.

I watch couples who are together yet seem so distant. I wonder if that’s why I always spent so much time in the airport with Adam giving him kisses. The terminal often seems to be a place of coldness now; everyone on their phones, snapping at each other; too much carry-on luggage because god-forbid you fucking check it.

I have walked through the over crowded airport trying to keep a smile on my face today; saying “please,” “excuse me” and “thank you” despite having a veil of grief no one should experience. And yet I see wives exasperated with their husbands, yelling at their kids; frustration with gate agents.

Don’t get me wrong. I have done of all of this. In fact, I could be such a bitch that I was banned by Adam from being in eyesight of gate agents if we had flight trouble. I handled things badly while he could smooth talk us on to the next flight just by being him. He charmed everyone.

It’s just with death, it all seems so pointless now. I hope I can hold on to this feeling for a long time, the full realization that our pettiness is a waste of time. I suspect it won’t happen; that years from now I will be once again like the masses. I think that’s the way our brain works.

But for right now, I am sad for those who haven’t realized the full preciousness of what they have.

My wish for you … take a deep breath when you get frustrated this holiday season. It can be gone in an instant. It really can.