Usually I am able to maintain rather robotic states at goodbye. Unless the other person loses it. Then I do, too. My grandma always tells a story from my toddler years, when my younger cousin accidentally climbed into the elevator of their building and us older kids were helplessly waiting for her to come back down, if she would at all. And I just cried. I also have a memory of seeing my older, 5 or 6 year old cousin James cry one day over something unjust, and I (2 or 3) burst into tears as well. Perhaps I have a built in mechanism that makes me cry when I see others crying. Anyway... I thought I was doing fairly well as my grandma sent me off to the departures gate. Last year all she gave me was a measly handshake. This year she bearhugged me and spoke to me in a choked-up voice. I couldn't even listen to her properly. I quickly said bye, shoved my ticket at the guards and blinked away my blurred vision as I headed to the security checkpoint. The stoicism lasted until I got on the plane, and then I lost it, bad. Luckily I was situated next to a window so I could just stare out as the floodgates opened. I don't even know why we cry at goodbyes. What is it that we mourn? The thought of being apart? But what is being apart if not simply a physical barrier between people?
Anyway I had the grandest thoughts behind my eyelids during the plane flight, accompanied by the spontaneous welling of tears. Stupid uncontrollable lachrymal ducts. I learned so much about love on this trip, it's amazing. But lessons for another day.
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