I used to look out and be able to tell which people were my age, who was younger or older. I could always tell who was 10 or 20 or 30. But now everyone is the same age – we are all walking towards to same destination. I feel young and probably look old.
We carry a heavy load. Sometimes it’s a green bag and others black. We carry it on our back, roll it behind us, or lift it over our heads. We stumble and lug our bags forward. We try not to hit people – ‘I’m sorry sir if I bumped you’.
I used to feel sorry for people. People who feel better than everyone else – people who don’t know what life is really about. Now I realize that feeling is the only thing. There isn’t really a better or worse.
I like to sit in the international terminal of the airport. Some people are coming to find a new dream – leaving a life that dragged them down. Some people are leaving for vacation – laughing and getting ready for a break from the life dragging behind them. And the rare few are just sitting and watching it all go by.
The kids always understand – mostly because they don’t try to, but also because there is no need. The older folks already know.
