Last night for 45 minutes I met my brother in the Salt Lake airport. I haven't seen him in two years. We just wrote emails once a week. I looked forward to sunday nights when I could write him a quick note. A picture. Whatever artifact I could send electronically. Monday mornings, I'd get his response and a few stories from his week.
I got to the area outside of security just in time to see him walking around a corner from a long ways away. I started hopping up and down. I was wearing running shoes so I was able to hop extra high. It was so festive! And then everything was just normal--we talked about whatever. He asked me why my hands were stained red--then he said: The pomegranate! And I said, YES! I was just working on the paper!! and there were lots of exclamations in that exchange because he supports my writing. And that means a lot to me because I love his poems.
Then my sisters showed up. Everyone hugged again. My dad took pictures. My mom made me take a bag of oranges she was carrying around in her purse. I hugged my brother--and then they got on a plane to California.