He Arrived

My mom called me last night to inform me that my brother's plane was landing and, due to a serious lack of communication, no one was at the airport to greet him. She was hurrying on her way and wanted to know if i wanted to go up and see him since I'd probably arrive before her. I live an hour from the airport but drove as fast as I could through a driving rainstorm to get there and found my brother upbeat, cheerful, and very happy to finally see a familiar face.

I arrived home late and tired, but it was really nice to see him again after two years.

Welcome home, brother. I look forward to catching up with you this weekend.

My Poor Brother

 

I feel bad for my brother. He should be home after spending the last two years living in Greece.

He's not.

For the last two days he's been stuck in the Athens airport. Fights have been canceled or delayed.

This morning I received short email this morning saying he had been at the airport for six hours waiting to know the status of his flight. He has no idea when he'll leave or when he'll arrive home. His life, for the moment, is in some sort of limbo until the airlines can get their act together and get a flight home.

I replied to his email telling him he's going to be like the Tom Hanks character in the movie Terminal and live at the airport for the rest of his life.

I shouldn't have told him that. Had I gone through the same ordeal when I was trying to leave Bulgaria, I don't think I would have been too happy at the comparison.

Thankfully my brother is very good natured and will be so happy to be home that we'll all laugh about the delays when we finally see him.

I just hope that's sooner, rather than later.