I made a trip out to the Abbotsford airport to pick up a relative flying in from Calgary. For the past few months she has been in Nova Scotia, Winnipeg and Alberta, and we had promised her green grass and sunshine.
I am not a traveller, I don’t fly often and my incomplete passport application is somewhere in the house. Every time I decide to fill it out, they establish no fly lists, no fly zones, natural disasters occur, wars break out or nuclear reactors melt down. Nothing extreme ever seems to happen in Langley and that suits me just fine. I will pick people up at the airport and live vicariously through their stories without suffering their jet lag.
I made sure I had left plenty of time for my short journey, accounting for unexpected delays or detours. There was no traffic to speak of, I got there early and of course that meant the plane was delayed 40 minutes. Nothing I can do about that except plunk an extra toonie in the parking meter and spend another one on a reasonably warm cup of coffee.
There always seems to be an air of excitement at airports and train stations. People anxiously await their call to the departure lounge or scan the screens for updated arrival information. Tearful goodbyes are shared before passengers head into security and last minute checklists are completed to ensure the right documents are in the right pouches.
Two little boys about five and three are waiting for Grandma. We all know this because the three-year-old tells each newcomer to the arrival area that “Gwandma is coming from Calgary.” Dad tries to get them to sit and watch the planes but he is not having much luck — too much room to run and too many objects to climb on.
I recall the excitement of the long drive into Vancouver International when we were going to pick up our Grandma. I always watched for the stainless steel rocket ship that greeted people coming to the airport. It added a degree of science fiction to our big city adventure. The rocket ship was reproduced for Expo 86 and now sits in downtown Vancouver. The last time I saw it, it didn’t look near as huge and exciting as it did when I was a boy. But then, nothing ever does.
Finally someone spots the landing lights on the back drop of the mountains and we watch the plane touch down and taxi to the terminal. One of the boys asks why it just didn’t land by the building instead of driving here.
Everyone crowds in to see their friends or relatives. Most of the older people make eye contact through the glass and wave. The kids see Grandma and start jumping up and down. If she is a bona fide Grandma, there will be treats in that big black suitcase.
The majority of those under 35 are already texting. It seems they have developed an enhanced peripheral vision and they are able to dodge people and objects without even looking up. I am sure they are texting people in the terminal with clever messages like, ‘I’m here and I’m coming through the door now.’
I see the sun coming through the clouds, just as my sister-in-law comes into view, perfect timing. Here she is in Beautiful B.C., no need to travel anywhere else. At least that’s what McGregor says.
