There’s some things I’m good at


but saying goodbye at the airport isn’t one of them. 

Saying goodbye at the airport whilst not final is one of those things that I tend to get flustered with. This morning my (older than me by 6 days) step sister and my nephew left the UK to return home to Australia. We got up at 5am to leave home at 530, at 545am we headed to the M4 in the dark. 

Checking in and my heart was churning. Bags on the conveyor belt and my heart is in my mouth. As they walked to departures my heart was making my eyes itch. As they walked towards the barriers I was rooted to the spot not daring to breathe. Then all too soon they’ve reached the point of no return and they turn to wave and my emotions got the better of me and my big warm fat tears escaped. 

They turn and wave and I wave. Then they’re gone and I’m in bits.

Airports. Airports reduce me to a crumbling wreck but the days inbetween arrivals and departures have been fun and it won’t be long until we see them again. 

Safe flight Tars and Aaron. We love you. 


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