Nothing generates shared sentiment more readily than motherhood.  There is a universal sisterhood among mothers in which unspoken sympathies are exchanged during any occasion that involves our precious offspring.  Durwood calls it a fellowship of “blubberers.”

Last night’s trip to the airport felt like any other routine pick-up.  Even though I had not seen James since he left for college over three months ago, it had been an unusually hectic week and I did not have the time to think much about his arrival.  Of course, I missed James and was looking forward to seeing him again.  But his flight was not due to arrive until well after midnight.  It had been a busy day already and there would be much to do the following day.  Picking him up from the airport was just one more item on our long list of things to do.

Durwood and I made it to the airport early enough that we had plenty of time to spare before Jim’s scheduled arrival time.  We were pleased to find that there were two vacant seats available in the crowded waiting area for arriving flights.  It felt nice to have secured a comfortable position in which to relax and wait.  We sat and watched as droves of airline passengers filed through the gates to be greeted by their loved ones.

Perhaps it was my current mindset, but many of the travelers appeared to be college students carrying their backpacks, or dressed in their respective university attire.  Among the millions of relatives who are traveling this holiday weekend, many are college students like Jim who are returning home for the first time since leaving home last summer.  I couldn’t help but smile as I sat watching them, one by one, while their young anxious eyes searched the crowd until sudden recognition directed them towards the familiar face awaiting their return.

Enjoying the affectionate scenes that were unfolding all around me, I allowed my gaze to linger upon a young lady who was wrapped in the tender embrace of an older woman.  Mother and daughter stood in the middle of the parading crowd of people and held on to each other in complete oblivion to anyone around them.  Time was suspended as I watched the daughter bury her face deeper into the crook of her mother’s neck.  I felt mom press her hand ever so gently on the back of her precious daughter’s head to draw her even closer as they stood together in an unending embrace.

Familiarity washed through my entire being and I felt the well of tears begin to rise.  I knew that I would have to look away from the scene in an attempt to quell the flood.  I no longer wished to intrude on mother and daughter’s private moment, so I was averting my gaze to the opposite end of the terminal when I caught the eye of another woman.   She blinked her watery eyes and smiled, apparently engaged in the same observation that I had just experienced.  We exchanged a knowing glance in a split-second connection that concluded with a courtesy nod between us.

Durwood woke up from his stupor and turned his head toward mine in time to recognize the ensuing drama displayed on my face.  One precise “don’t” look from me was enough to assure him that any potential sobbing episode had already been properly contained.

I never did get to greet young Jim upon his initial arrival into the waiting area of the airport terminal.  By the time that his plane had finally arrived at the gate, my bladder had exceeded its limit.  I had been concluding my visit to the ladies room while Durwood collected our son.  Being completely drained of all fluids, I was able to execute a tearless and joyful reunion with my eighteen year old baby boy.

As my own dear mother would remind me, “once a mom, always a mom.”  No matter what age our kids are, we will forever hold that privileged place within where our children remain our precious babies.

My younger sister Evie came over to visit this morning with Caroline and Anson.  I described the tender scene that I had witnessed at the airport last night and smiled with compassion as her eyes began to fill with those familiar heartfelt tears.

Welcome to the club, Evie.

Tags: college students returning home, holiday travel, motherhood, universal sisterhood