The airport, and the space in between.

Yesterday when Sebastian landed, and I was at the airport looked at my phone to see if I had any messages and it was 23:23.

I had until then been thinking about how it moved me the joy of people waiting for those arriving. Children running to embrace an absent father, and a husband filming the arrival of His  sister, or wife, I do not quite understand ... The grandson who a Grandmother still does not know, does not take the place of the tight embrace of who waits in suspense for along time no see daughter, and that soon takes the baby's stroller in possession. Friends who for so many time have not seen, exchanging a hug and a grin, and those who wait impatient with the stragglers in the air.

I loved that feeling of the "between"" space, a room for love, and felt sorry for not being expecting a possible mate so I can feel the joy of longing, like that waiting time. Perhaps because I already had I have some from the world, I always had this feeling, and none of them was there to expect.

Such was my thought when I saw this sign.23:23

I was very happy to reach my son. I felt I made a wonderful investement in the maturity of his art as an artist, and in is childhood as man. And them He arrives, playing as always, already very inspired by a country where I felt Him doing part so well...

...I reminded Maria, my adopted daughter yesterday also, her arrival from Luxembourg, so happy, and such a good looking She wore, of whom, who filled the void where once lived sutch longging for a sister far away. I remembered the happy trip home by car in the highway, now both in their particular dialect that made us always laugh ... and crossing with me, in the dark of night an urgent ambulance, once again I found myself with her in the end of her short life calling mysel "mother", lost in her fragile line between the Now and the Past. Everything hit me with a mixture of joy, sorrow and hope because in the end I saw that ... all passes, the good and the bad.

However I got home.