Hey little sister

Emotions were raw this morning, and bubbling to the surface. 

We ate our breakfast outside and laughed.  Tooli Picked up the last of her belongings, and as we passed in the doorway, from one room to another, we tried desperately to avoid each other's eyes. 

There was nothing for it.  We just stood and howled, and Himself joined in, and then Boy...  I can't post the photo with Himself in it, he looks so sad, that it breaks my heart to look at it. 

Boy, Jess and Tooli said their Goodbyes, and we loaded into the car, for the drive to Edinburgh.  Tooli and I sniffled for a couple of miles and then we were okay. 

Then we parked at Ingleston park and Ride and took the Tram to the airport - rather than fight the car park over there.   For the first time since we've taken her over for Qatar flights (I think this is the third) the place was absolutely heaving. 

Himself stood in the queue with her, I did the cold drinks - it was roasting.    She was 1 kg over but got away with it.  The space between dropping the bags and entering the departure, is the shortest, most painful 5 minutes. 

Up the escalator,  along the corridor, and there it is. 

The tears start about 16 ft from the door.  We hug, we cry, we promise we will be fine in five minutes, and she is gone. 

We stand and watch as she walks back and forward, back and forward,  along the queue to security, sniffle as we watch her unload her hand luggage into the boxes, and then she disappears. 

I stood for a moment after she was gone.  My grief at her leaving momentarily overcomes me.  And then I'm okay.   She's on her way to a job she loves, and an apartment she loves and new friends. she adores. 

Himself puts his arm round me and we head off for the stairs, the exit and the great big outdoors. 

And we are okay.