I decided, just to be safe, to check the online status of the flight of children today at about 11:55. Flight was due in at 12:35. It said, “ARRIVING.” Panic. To have them have to arrive to no adult waiting patiently at the bottom of the stairs was not a thought I relished. I leaped into my car with its nearly empty gas tank and flew under the radar all the way there. I scanned the crowd as the panic started to overtake me. Did they know what to do? Did they know to stay put? I looked and looked and finally saw the only African-American in the crowd sitting in a chair under the status board, but this could not be my Emily—it looked like a young woman of any age. I said, “Emily,” and she turned to me—it was her. What had happened to her over the summer? I gave her a great big hug and we sought out Joe and found him stalwartly standing next to the luggage carousel waiting for the luggage to come through. He had told Emily to sit still and wait and he’d “take care of things.” He’s fully three inches taller than me now. I have a feeling it won’t be too much longer and they won’t need me at all.
I’m glad they are back.
Doing all the little tricky things it takes to grow up, step by step, into an anxious and unsettling world
~ Sylvia Plath
Published on: Aug 6, 2006
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