Welcome home...

Our world traveler is home! After a very stressful night in Zurich, Grace finally touched down in Boston town... and I've never been so glad to outstretch my arms at Logan Arrivals. My parents and I got to the airport several hours prior to this reunion (probably the only time we've been early to anything in our lives), so we had some time to kill in the interim. What do you do at the airport after a few mimosas? People watch, that’s what. The arrival gate is actually a pretty remarkable place to do this. Watching everyone come through the gate and hug/kiss their loved ones – well, it’s a lot like that movie, Love Actually. 

“Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport [Or in this case, Logan International]. General opinions’ starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don't see that. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often, it's not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it's always there - fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends... If you look for it, I've got a sneaking suspicion... love actually is all around.”

 

Of course, it’s got to be rough for those individuals that come through the gate after a long flight and see all the disappointed faces when the crowd realizes that they’re not their particular loved one. I gave out a few of those looks today too. Sorry about it. After all the hugs, kisses and no tears (stayed strong), it was definitely time for Grace to throw her oversized bags in the back of Dad’s car and head for home. 

I know how stressful that trip is, and I will always vividly remember my journey home from my semester in London. After grossly maxing out my credit card (in a country whose currency was worth double ours at the time), this girl did not have any more pounds to afford a taxi to Heathrow. Instead I opted to struggle through the underground system with two large bags in tow. It must have been a ridiculous sight to see because after several stumbles (one actual fall), numerous phones calls to my father asking for more time in London and some pretty serious melt downs, a complete stranger took pity and offered some help. The good news: He was also going to the airport to pick up his daughter. The best news: He was dressed as Santa Claus. I’m not kidding. I think my mouth dropped to the ground when this jolly fella (decked out in full Santa attire obviously) hoisted my bags off of the train and helped me walk them to the check in desk. Maybe this was a Christmas miracle? Sure felt like one. Seven hours later, I too walked through the arrival gate at Logan International and fell into my family’s wide open arms. I had never been so exhausted, grateful and nostalgic in my ENTIRE LIFE. 

sister

Hopefully, by now Grace is tucked up close to Tory and Ginger (our pups… ugh, heartbreakers) and sleeping away her jet lag. So happy she’s home. Can’t wait to do so many Christmas related things with her this weekend! Oh this really is the best time of the year…. 

Cheers!