Do you know who you aren't?

I was awoken by the rumbling of the plane landing. Up and down and up and down went the newspaper sitting on my lap. Up and down went my stomach. I gripped the arm rests next to me, trying to steady myself so that I wouldn't get sick. Then it slowed. The bumps decreased and the plane slowly rolled over to its gate. I sighed in exasperation. I had been dreading this moment since the day I landed in Switzerland. The day that I was so delighted to see my 3 granddaughters. It was the happiest I had felt in a long time. They brightened up my world, only for that light to be taken away right now. Right as we were landing, the last bit of happiness I had felt drained from me. It was like I was a tank, and by seeing my granddaughters I had refueled it with happiness. But their mother took it away in a matter of days. Always picking fights that girl, I knew from the day Gregory introduced me to her.

"Dad?" his 22 year old self said to me, "I'd like you to meet my girlfriend, Irene," and then one of the most beautiful woman I had ever seen walked through that door.

"Hello Mr. Devou," she said, with her delicate voice. She looked like the type of person that would break into a million pieces if you pushed them too hard. She put out an oh-so fragile hand for me to shake.

"Hello Irene," I said, and she shook it with power that didn't fit they way she looked.

Later that night though, outside of my car, they had an argument. The kind Irene that I had met earlier that evening disappeared and a much fiercer girl took her place. She screamed at him, and I got so frightened I thought that she was going to break my windshield. Then she took 5 deep breaths and held him by the arms. She whispered something to him and Gregory... laughed. He laughed. And to this day I wonder what happened outside of my car that night. Irene was both the calm before the storm, and the storm itself.

Even with Irene spoiling some of my moments with the girls, I treasured the ones we had together. But in the back of my mind, I knew that the moment would come. Although I dreaded it, I knew that I had to return.

"Alrighty, thank you for flying with us, we hope you enjoyed flying with us and we hope to see you again soon! Please carefully take your luggage from underneath the seat in front of you and don't forget to check the overhead bin for any of your belongings. Have a lovely rest of your day!" One overly perky flight attendant chirped through the speaker. With that, the airplane erupted into chaos. Families yelling at their kids to stay seated, people scrambling to grab their luggage and get out quickly. They probably had someone excited to see them. Me? I just took everything in. Stalling until everyone had left, and then I got up, grabbed my luggage, and left the plane, very slowly. I ignored the flight attendants perky smiles waiting for me at the tip of the plane.

Out I went into the airport. People boarding flights, children with electronics and headphones plastered onto their ears. College students on line for an exotic flight to Germany or something like that. Down the stairs I went, walking to baggage claim, even though I had no baggage. I knew, though, that if I waited there and watched all the baggage unload, it would give me an excuse to stay inside the airport. And I liked people watching. I liked the idea that everyone had a story. Sometimes I would come up with one for them. A reason why they're here, a tragic event that recently happened. Why they looked happy or sad or embarrassed. I chose a blond woman and crafted her entire story. She looked like she was in her early 20's. She had just graduated college early, and had come back home to spend a couple of days with her parents before getting her own apartment. Her eyebrows were furrowed and almost everything that she did seemed like it was the last thing she would ever do. Every movement was stiff and distressed. But when she exited and saw her parents, her entire face relaxed. All of the tension pent up inside of her was gone as her parents embraced her in their arms. My heart felt heavy for a second.

If only there was someone here to wait for me at the doors. If only there was someone who had waited for me for months. But I knew as I walked through the doors of the airport, there would be no one to greet me but a cranky taxi driver and my unfortunate reality. I longed for my mother, even though there was no way in hell that she would be waiting for me outside of the airport. All around me teenagers were hugging family and friends, their faces lighting up with delight as they left the airport. How unfortunate it was that I was walking through the doors with the opposite expression. But I had to open these doors. I had to watch everybody else's looks of pure joy, while I opened the door with my shoulders sagged and feet dragging along.

That was when I was knocked over by someone...singing. Singing outside of an airport. It was a black woman who had an enormous backpack strapped to her.

"Sir" she started, "you look like a monkey in a jail cell. Wanna know why? I'll tell you why," she paused and then started laughing hysterically, "I don't have no idea,"

It was as if someone had sent this woman down to mock my emotions. As if she were saying: look at me! I'm the total opposite of you and I love it!

"Sir!" her voice brought me back to reality, "You good? You look like a hysterical woman just ran up to you and started blabbering" and on with her laughter. I tried to get past her, tried to ignore and just keep walking, but she kept on moving so that I couldn't get out.

"And all this time passed and you didn't say nothin!" she scolded, "speak man! Speak!"

I looked at her blankly and replied with, "Who are you?"

"Who am I? Goddamn it son, you don't know who I am?" she asked as if she hadn't just walked up to me spontaneously outside of an airport. I shook my head, "well son, you ain't gotta know who I am. You just gotta know who I'm not."

I scrunched my eyebrows together, because everything she had said made no sense.

"I ain't you. I ain't anyone else in this entire airport. Heck, I ain't anyone in this entire world. I'm happy. I'm electric. I'm loving. I definitely ain't whatever the hell you are," she said, laughing at her joke once again.

I just gave her a plastered smile, and politely walked by.

"But answer me this sir," she said, with a fierce grip on my arm, "do you know who you are?"

I thought. I truly thought, and shook my head.

"Wanna know how you find out who you are?" she asked, loosening her grip.

I nodded because I knew that either way she was going to tell me, "You gotta figure out who you aren't."