One thing I can say about airport scenes is that I only like arrivals, never departures.
Sometime July, my brother's family spent a good month's vacation here to celebrate my Mom's 80th birthday.
The kids, Ally and Gelli, grew up in Fremont, California, without knowing the rest of their family back in the Philippines, except for pictures and stories of their first vacation here when they were still in their toddler years.
When they got older, they went back, and instantly warmed up to the rest of their big clan, despite the difference in culture and the initially disorienting Pinoy-accented-English . The closeness amongst the American citizens and their Pinoy cousins were instantaneous, never forced and almost instinctive. Soon, even the kisses, hugs and other forms of affection became easy. The "oldies in the family" can only watch in amazement at the speed by which these kids strongly bonded and we thought, that's maybe how blood relatives naturally respond to each other, no matter how long they have been apart.
When it was time to leave for the US, the tears flowed at the airport. And us oldies, can only force a bitter smile, pained at the sight of the tenderness of young hearts feeling the sting of separation.