His plane is landing soon. I rush to the airport. I must see him. When I arrive the gate has been changed. I run to the new gate. Now, the terminal has also been changed. I run through the airport to the new terminal. Each time I arrive, there is a change. I’ll never find him, I mutely tell my Friend as I continue running. Finally, I see him: salt and pepper hair, heavy on the salt, tall, tanned, ice blue eyes. He is dressed in a tan safari jacket and khaki cargo pants, looks as if he’s been traveling a lot.
I approach him, reach out a hand, and touch his arm, “Are you…?” He turns. My heart leaps. He pulls me into a strong hug that lasts and lasts but is still too brief. We sit in the waiting area and talk. “I have been looking for you for a long time,” he tells me. “Where have you been,” I want to know. He is about to answer. A voice announces his connecting flight, “I must go.” “But… at least tell me my name!” tears steam down my face. A huge hole has opened in my heart. He places one finger in my chest and says, “You are Kern.” The morning sun awakens me: “Kern?” I ask my Friend. “Is that my name?”