reliving past moments

Tears slip from her cheeks. She pulls me close, drawing me into her warm arms. She clings to me as if I am going to be taken from me any moment. 

I smile and push away. "Grammy," I say, "It's alright. I'm fine. We're leaving, oh, we're finally leaving!" I point excitedly to the large plane resting on the horizon. 

But her eyes are still filled with tears, her lips are still trembling. I try to comfort her, I try to understand in my seven year old mind why on earth she would be crying at a time like this. And not only she is crying. My mother and father are crying too. My grandfather is crying, and yet I have never seen him cry before. My grandparents hug me, kiss me, and say they will miss me. 

Oh sure, I'll miss them. Yet why the fuss? I get to ride on a plane. A real airplane. I will fly, just like the eagles, in the next few hours. And I will be setting my feet on new and foreign soil. By tomorrow I will be gazing out at the buildings and sights of Jordan. Jordan. A place I have never been before. 

A surge of yearning shoots through my heart. I long to touch the sand of Jordan, the ground and dust of a new land. I want to get away from the tears, away from the sadness. 

So I grab my brother's hand, pulling him to the large window overlooking the airport. 

"Look," I whisper, pointing to the plane I know I shall be soaring in. "We're going to be flying in that." A smile bursts across my face, and I jump up, my short brown hair bobbing across the back of my neck. 

As I gazed out, the thought that I might not see my family and friends for years never crossed my mind. I was more than content, I was excited, and ready for adventure. I was ready for anything.