Sentimental fool

I've never been big on goodbyes. Ever since I was little. And there is something about airports that make me weepy. Considering I have been away from my father from when I was very little, this is a surprise. You would think I would be used to it by now. Evidently not. I remember when I was a young and we were in India while my dad was in the Gulf, my brother and I would spend 11 months of the year looking forward to the 1 month my dad would be in India with us. That was our holiday season. We had the whole fun of the year in that one month. Needless to say, when he left the gloom was darker than the ever. Eventually as my dad moved back with us to India almost parallel to my brother going away to the US, I began to look forward to his arrival. Having never been away from him it was a heart-wrenching experience when he first left. And thereafter his arrivals marked my holiday season. Indeed my classmates from college will probably remember that I barely came to college when my bro was on his holiday. That changed too. Because I was the one leaving home next. And then it was all about making those India trips. I know people talk about "brain drain" and all that. But forever since I left home, going back even on the shortest of vacations has dominated any talk that I've had with anyone. Not just mine. Everyone's. It was the biggest news if anyone was going to India. And it formed the absolute core of the months surrounding it. I guess it's the vicious circle. People want their earnings to be in a currency of higher value so that there is more to spend of it back home on vacation. With the current rates of things in India, I am not even sure that's happening. Anyhow, the topic of this post was to do with goodbyes. The airports I think have always signified separation for me. I first flew when I was 3. Though I was going to meet Appa, I was bidding goodbye to Patti and all. That was separation. And when everyone cried, so did I. When we came back to India, it was usually joyous as we came back as a whole family. But eventually we would stay the holidays longer than Appa could and so another separation, for however short. Then we settled in India and needless to say Appa's visits were very very animated but his departure made me just as sad. And the cycle kept continuing. It's only relatively recently that we've been making 'family' trips via airplane. Usually in India it was by train.

With the number of country hops and nomadic adventures that I've had, once again, you would think I would be used to leaving people behind - my roomies n friends in Cincinnati, amazingly a cat in Iowa, dear friends in San Diego and family in India again. Yet, today I left S at the airport with his India trip preceding mine by 20 days. Emptiness once more. And it's so much worse when you are the one left behind to face an empty house and mundane life. And there's something about leaving someone at the airport gate (or being left by someone) - I think it's the finality. It always, always brings a lump to my throat. I hate airport goodbyes. Or maybe I am just a sentimental fool and need to grow up.