Note to new readers: This post is part of my 30 Days of Writing Practice. I am allowing blocks of 10, 20 or 30 minutes of my day solely to putting my swirling thoughts on paper. No going back to edit which will only serve to stop the stream of consciousness. My writing buddy Kat and I (Wruddy for short), we call it writing from the heart. Please read my introduction for the full story.
I wrote this while waiting for my Queen Azucena (my beloved mother) arrive from Surigao via Manila. All of 2 minutes on my iPhone’s Evernote. Short and sweet. I will post two today, my dear readers. Because I’m on a roll this weekend. Plus you have been very good, nay, great to ME.
Caps lock and periods are automatic on Evernote. And go!
Oh how I love people watching in airports. Guards are down. I see a Filo (Aussie slang for Filipino) grandma arrive. She looks so fragile. Maybe 65-70 years old. Who knows. Still fit. Fragile because you can see how emotional she is. She sees her daughter. Maybe this daughter is 45 years old. Oh. The hug. The embrace. So sweet. Their two bodies lock. Racking with soft sobs. Absolute relief to see each other. Lola is speechless. She missed her daughter, her face a picture of… creased, crumpled brown paper bag. Lola’s daughter is all smiles and soft kisses. I sense relief that Lola arrived safely. They hug for maybe 30 seconds. Then it’s the grandchildren’s turn. Welcome hugs. Tears all around. People are the most unguarded and intimate in airports. People forget they’re in a public space… You agree no?
People leaving. People arriving. All pulsing pulsating nervous energy longing loving. Raw. Open. Burning. Beautiful. Love.
Man in his most vulnerable state.
Corinne Bailey Rae’s “Put Your Records On” is looping all weekend. Because it is sweet, chirpy and cheerful. And pure lightness! Hit play below and follow the lyrics. See why I love it so!
Put Your Records On
Three little birds, sat on my window.
And they told me I don’t need to worry.
Summer came like cinnamon
So sweet,
Little girls double-dutch on the concrete.
Maybe sometimes, we got it wrong, but it’s alright
And nothing seems to change, and it all will stay the same.
Oh, don’t you hesitate.
Girl, put your records on, tell me your favourite song
You go ahead, let your hair down
Sapphire and faded jeans, I hope you get your dreams,
Just go ahead, let your hair down.
You’re gonna find yourself somewhere, somehow.
Blue as the sky, sunburnt and lonely,
Sipping tea in the bar by the road side,
(just relax, just relax)
Don’t you let those other boys fool you,
Gotta love that afro hairdo.
Maybe sometimes, we feel afraid, but it’s alright
The more you stay the same, the more they seem to change.
Don’t you think it’s strange?
Daisy says
Hi Cha,
Thank you for writing this. Exactly why I have a photo essay on airport scenes! They are raw, unguarded, longing, loving!
Can I share this?
love,
Day