Oh the big question. How to greet your loving wife on her first independant arrival in a European airport? Red carpet no doubt, flowers, chocolates, big smiles, even bigger hugs and smooches. Not this seasoned traveler, no. Better to arrive two hours late to the airport with a confused, "What was that in my porridge," look on one's face. Yours truly and military time have a love affair now well understood. I was so sure of myself after reading the 13:05 arrival time, excited that I would make sure to be early and greet Ruth with toothy, ear to ear smile. Unfortunately taking 13 to mean 3pm did not factor in to my plans. It was not until about 3pm that I took a gander at arrival reports and realized my grave error. I hoisted Darek from his partially eaten lunch (he not at all understanding the sudden need for flight and nearly choking on a half chewed morsel) and away we went. At first I did not want to admit to or believe that I had so bordered the ridiculous in my thinking and told Darek some kak-a-mamey version about the plane having arrived early. If he had been aware of my error then I might have received a swift one to the hind quarters. No, the real version of what happened was not made known until Ruth was safely stowed in the back of her awaiting chariot also known as Kia minivan. She was waiting for me; I expecting the harsh scowl of retribution; she desiring to inflict incredible harm; but both upon seeing one another, softened at the remebrance of time apart and thankfully deciding on embrace rather than the expected possibilities.

What had this moment meant? Why the fuss if others also have arrived to meet me in this place? For this lonesome traveler no arrival could have meant more. A first real connection between the two if not more world's of my life, one's on different continents that have remained almost completely seperate except for for me. Someone to share with me all that life shall bring and the experience of some things that came about already. With at least one person I am no longer to be aware each time I tell of something that though the person might appreciate my story, how could they every fully appreciate the experience of it. Until now those choice moments, written about with embellishing tones and phrases, spoken about later with joy in the sharing, always an awareness of the disconnect for the listener. I want to know more what it is to arrive home from those moments and share with a constant companion not only my joy my pain but that which she knew in those times. Ruth's arrival marks the beginning of a brand new chapter of the journey. As I mentioned before the possiblility of now "our story" where was once only "my story." Her arrival means that April 18th was just a beginning and that new life together no matter where it take us (important point) is now reality. I long to see my world through her eyes, to know that come what may our lives now support each others and refresh each others and shall push each others toward places of the heart unseen. No, this arrival like all the others is not followed with awarenesses of leaving, but rather is coupled with the incredible joy of a life joining on to mine. God's quintessential gift in understanding the heart of his son, the need of his son to no longer traverse his varied lives and worlds alone.