I’m sitting in Denver Airport, as I have been for several hours now. It’s mindnumbing, and my courage is failing me. Our connection to Kansas City has been delayed, again, and we’re tired. When you lose strength it’s easy to get complacent. I am already quite emotional this holiday as it is my first Christmas in the US. When I moved here 5 and half years ago, I promised myself I would be home with my family every Christmas. This is my first 20th of December on American soil. It’s like a breakup. But I understand that marriage is about compromise. There’s a whole lot of sacrifice on that wedding registry. And so, I well up constantly. Walking into Walgreens makes me cry becaue I see the Reese’s cups I stock up on this time of year for my parents who bicker over the flavours. I cried when I arrived at the airport. I got teary at the sight of my suitcase coming out of the storage, all dusty and tagged by SAA.
And then I was sitting at some Belgium airport pub wth Alan sipping frothy seasonal draught beer called Below 2 degrees, and I remembered being alone. When you’re single, you make all sorts of deals with God to not be alone. You are so deathly lonely. It’s like a breakup.
You’ll fly to the moon in moonboots to find him. And then you do. And then you forget.
The truth is, I still feel that way, I am as in love with him this icy night as I was 4 bright years ago when we were fatefully introduced at my Christmas party. I raise you one Cape Town for a second helping of Gate bbq.
Hearing abour a Houston-bound flight that skidded off the very runway outside our pub window a couple of hours ago, leaving 23 people bound for hospital this Christmas, I am thankful. Once again.
