reconciliation

I’ve known what the title of this entry would be for two months; even though I never could quite get around to putting fingers to keyboard to bring it into being. The word “laden” whispered itself to me as fingers touched blossom, whispered to me in that insistent voice that said, no matter how long it took, the chronicle of this moment was one that would not stay wholly in my mind.

It was my seventh wedding anniversary, but the story starts several days earlier, in an airport standing next to a man who, unbeknownst to me, had a plan.

* * * * *

I hugged Jake at the airport, marveling at his ability to take a cross-country flight and come out looking just as neat and calm as he must’ve looked upon boarding the plane. Through a screwup, I hadn’t met him on his way to baggage claim as I’d originally intended; he was already at baggage claim by the time I found him.