Chasing Ideals

I'll have to set the scene for the following. I arrived in London Heathrow last Wednesday a few hours before Tara and Faolan and was waiting for them in Terminal 4. There is just one exit in the terminal for arriving passengers or at least that is what I thought. The idea was that we would meet there and then head to Terminal 1 for our connecting flight to Dublin. As I waited, I decided to write down what I was thinking as my thoughts were racing. I had to write on any scrap of paper I could find which included my flight itinery, lunch receipt, and local newspaper front page. I was sitting atop my suitcase and writing on my knee at a feverish pace. Hopefully some of you will find this of interest or you may read it and decide I'm a bit of a nut job. Either way here goes:
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I'm anxious as a psych patient waiting here in my tie. Heart pounding as a marching drum. Six months apart from my closest friend. Where the hell is she! I'm close to faint sitting here. The tie too tight around my neck. Every time a baby whimpers I am convinced it is her. Nearly scowling at other gobshites emerging. Wondering if I will leap the rail. I'm writing this so I don't forget to but thinking too fast to write and looking up constantly and scribbling. Ready to run to meet her and babs but not sure my legs will carry me. Getting queer stares as I write. Must quit this in case she comes. Seeing a chap with cowboy moustache. Looked liked Arizona man now where the f. Feck "tex" and give me sis and baby. Writing this without looking now. Finally loosened the sodding tie but got to look my best. Doors open again to woman in yeti costume orange. Looks like she decided on the floor carpet for today's attire but she's out first. My eyes are twitching around the room like a hawk after rabbits. Americans but no Tara out with child. It could be the lack of blood to the brain or excitement, not sure. Still feckin waiting. Ready to bludgeon the customs chap holding things up. Ready to lep on the two like a ravenous what's it. Still scribbling here with my legs shaking. I feel like a nutter scribbling away. Where the hell is she, 22 minutes is plenty of time. Tears probably won't come but this faint feeling sure has. Tie seems awfully feckin tight. Let me hear that baby. Let me see my best friends face. Thank you God for this moment.

No more room to write on this. More women out with babies. What the? She could have easily beaten these sods. Woman with luggage for twelve. Man with Sedona looks like he had far too much peyote. Couple blocking view, bastards. Suit case under me and legs giving out. Woman with boy. More obvious Americans, Phoenicians. Woman with yellow jumpsuit. Woman with shitloads of luggage back out. More Americans(Notre Dame hat). Woman with mass luggage going back in. What the? Another woman but with two babies. Suitcase is imploding under my ass. The sight of me I'm like a drug addict. Head twitching, legs shaking. I'm going to feckin burst. Woman meanders out. Hurry it up for feck sake. More babies. Bags from California. Another baby sitting on a suitcase. Cute but not Faolan- can't read these scribbles. Where is she? Nearly an hour passed. Another smiling mum with baby. More mothers. More Americans. Hideous gotee. Native American chap. Another mother with baby. Insensitive bastard doesn't react to arrival of his sister/girlfriend. Mother of girl is crying and gobshite is rushing them. Want to give swift headbutt. My nerves settling for brief intervals. Still catching stares as writing on receipt on knee. A father and daughter hardly greet each other. Now two more babies out. Husband and wife greet with big kiss. Good on them. Blood finally flowing to my brain again. Man with woman doesn't help her when her child knocks bags over. Other chap helps her instead. Where is Tara? Doors open. No one comes. Airhostess in bright blue looking pissed. Man wearing shorts. Must be from Phoenix. Writing on a newspaper now. Hoping camera in front of me not watching. Just noticed it. I must look like a terrorist or a madman. Starting to wonder if I missed her; wrong terminal; what the? Emotional level dropping. Woman in skirt and massive boots waddling around behind me. Strangest walk I ever saw. Lump in throat and pressure of tie on my Adam's apple. Trying not to show my scribbles on paper. Writing on smiling man's face. More babies, feel drained, suprised haven't been arrested. She missed the flight. I was told customs lines are long in London. Crying friends greet. Woman cries after kisses arriving disabled friend and then is consoled by husband. People show up with no one to greet them. They divert their eyes as they walk out. Walk quickly so as not to seem alone. I remember those days. Family greet each other with big hugs, kisses, laughter, tears. Beautiful. Mother and her children. Nearly squezzes son's head off. Old man and young can't find a word to say to each other. I hope they are not father and son. They stare off in opposite directions. Man greets wife but not with kiss. Silly sod. Sunburnt jerries emerge, maybe from Phoenix. Others are waiting together but not talking to each other- fools. Been sitting on my suitcase too long. Sliding off. Where is she? Losing hope of arrival. Did she miss plane? Waiting, losing energy. Two hours since landing.
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Would you believe it after all of that she never came out that way. Tara and Faolan had gotten a special bus from Terminal 4 to Terminal 1 and were waiting for me there instead. I finally gave up waiting and called home to Phoenix to find that she should have been on the plane. I was confused and exhausted and already late for the flight to Dublin. When I rushed to Terminal 1 I discovered that she had been there and was on the plane bound for Dublin without me. I had a message sent to the plane to tell her I would follow her on the next flight. At that point I was so relieved to finally know where she was but had to quickly buy a new ticket and head to the departure gate. Two hours later I was in the arms of my sis in Dublin airport and holding my nephew for the first time in six months. The afternoon's emotional level had exhausted me and my heart was overwhelmed that I was finally together with them. I hardly said a word for the first few hours.

I've written enough in this for today now. In the next days and weeks here I think I won't have the time to be writing much. We've been staying with Tara's friend from her university days, Jacinta, and Jacinta's husband Robbie and their two children. I am thoroughly enjoying every moment of it. My time with Faolan is like a dream as the little chap is such a smily baby and a joy to play with. After such time away the moments with him are a gift. Being together with Tara all day and every day is so refreshing to me after months apart of relying on weekly phone calls. She knows me so well because she cares for me so deeply and our conversations are always intimate. Our hosts these first days love to chat and have made us feel so at home from the first moment. I have felt so comfortable in their house, with their children, and as a part of their lives. They don't realize it perhaps but that comfort and friendship is exactly what this weary chap needs at the moment. Tomorrow we are off to visit some more friends but we'll be back here before months end. Take a look at the new album of pics. Plenty of Faolan and a few of our hosts and their chillins.