Family reunions are a key part of the festive season - and an airport arrivals lounge provides quite the floorshow, writes Olivia Kelleher
Sit in an airport and you will see almost every facet of life played out. The passengers who spill out from the baggage hall run the emotional gamut, from couples embracing to people who stride through the doors clearly not wanting to be greeted by the relatives rushing towards them.
Terry Prone, author and publicist, says her most vivid memory of an airport reunion was when her husband, Tom, returned from a work-related trip to Kenya. She and her young son, Anton, were overwhelmed by emotion when he came through the arrivals gate at Dublin Airport.
"Tom was completely out of contact for 21 days - never had a gap that long before or since - and it was such a God-awful experience that we fell on Tom as if we hadn't seen him in 21 years. Anton doesn't remember what age he was, just that he was small enough to hug Tom at leg level while I was hugging him at chest level. Since then, Anton goes early to airports when he has to collect someone, because he's hooked on the reunion scene."
Prone had her most peculiar airport- reunion experience earlier this year, when the aircraft she was on was diverted to Shannon Airport after a fire broke out in the cockpit. She says passengers were crying and praying as calls went out on the intercom for people with firefighting experience. Fortunately, the plane landed safely, and the passengers were put on a bus to Dublin.
Prone struck up a conversation with an American couple who had had seven years of fertility treatment before the birth of their daughter. They were traumatised by having come so close to losing her in an accident. When the bus arrived in Dublin the couple asked if they could take a picture of Grace, their baby daughter, with Prone. "At this stage Tom, my husband, who had been kind of anxious because of the news about emergency landings, arrives and expects to find me on my own, looking for him. Nah. I'm surrounded by cameras and tourists and clutching a baby. The first I knew of our reunion was when an arm went around my middle and Tom's voice quietly asked: 'What the frig are you at, exactly?' So of course I turned, and Grace nearly got squashed in the resultant hug."
Martina Devlin, a fellow author, has fond memories of a Christmas reunion with her sister, Tonia, and her two children. Martina and Tonia are the only girls in a large family of boys and are very close. They hadn't seen each other for a year, however, as Tonia had moved to Gambia. Martina had missed her niece Aoife's christening and was eager to see the toddler for the first time.
"I paced Dublin Airport until at last they came through. It was the most fantastic heart-warming scene. The doors opened and my little nephew Justin rushed at me like a bullet. The children were golden brown. They weren't used to wearing shoes, because of the heat, and wanted to run out of the airport in their bare feet. They looked terribly glamorous and foreign in their printed clothes."
Devlin says her niece and nephew were mesmerised as they travelled in the car from the airport to her home. They "stuck their noses to the window", peering out at the Christmas lights, and were fascinated by the bare trees, which they called skeleton trees.
Airport memories aren't all about joyful reunions, however. In fact, airport farewells carry just as much impact and can be equally moving. Sarah Delamere Hurding, the astrologer, had a bittersweet Christmas experience last year after she dropped her boyfriend at the airport. She says she had mixed feelings as she waved goodbye to her partner of 13 years, who was returning to Glasgow for a family Christmas.
Delamere Hurding's parents and siblings live in the UK, so her partner's departure meant she was going to be spending Christmas alone. "I dropped him off at the airport on Christmas Eve. It felt a bit weird. I felt like a bit of a loner at first, then my dad called and said he was sure I really rather liked it."
Delamere Hurding says she had worked so hard in the run-up to Christmas that the peace of the holidays became a benefit. She admits she got a few strange comments about being on her own at Christmas but says a period of soul-searching was just what she needed.
No Christmas-reunion story is complete without romance. Sarah Webb, author of Always The Bridesmaid, recalls a magical pre-Christmas trip to Chicago four years ago, when she was reunited with her boyfriend, Ben. The pair hadn't seen each other for several months, as Ben was working in the US. They spent a week together, "eating and shopping and playing in the snow like kids". Webb remembers crying copiously at O'Hare International Airport before embarking on the journey back. A few weeks later, when they were reunited in Dublin for Christmas, Ben drove them home, heading in the direction of Ballsbridge, where he lived, only to keep going. "We drove past his house and I asked him what he was doing. He said he was coming out to my house in Dalkey to move in with me and that he didn't want to be apart again. We have been living together ever since."
