Souvenir

Wayde had already spent too much time looking for that perfect gift – gifts to be exact – one each for his wife and two children. It had been a busy week, running over with important conversations and meetings and thinking and being and doing many things. It was now a busy layover in a busy airport in a busy city with a connecting flight in forty-five minutes.

It would have been difficult to say exactly what Wayde was hoping to find. Something nice. Something fun. Something to remind… Well, who? And, of what? What remembrance could a tee shirt or baseball cap convey? What message could a mug or a snow globe bear that he could not? Wayde considered upping the ante. Perhaps he should check one of the specialty boutiques lining the terminal? Gourmet sweets. A designer handbag. Stuffed animals or a good book –

His phone started ringing. At a glance Wayde could see that it was his wife Sharon and that his flight would leave in half-an-hour.

Out of respect for this young couple's privacy, we will leave the details of their conversation to them. But, there was one thing Wayde’s wife said that I do not think she would mind our sharing. Wayde went on for some time – wasting time, in fact – trying to fetch subtle hints from Sharon; clues to put him on the trail of the gifts he was seeking. Presents that could only be received with bright-eyed laughter and a, “Oh! It’s just what I’ve always wanted!”

But, Mrs. Mortgenson was one step ahead of him. And, she meant what she said when she said, “Just get on that plane, Wayde, and come home. We miss you.”

That evening, as he walked in the front door of his house and set his bags down, Wayde, Sharon, their children and even the family dog all got what any of us really want; to be reminded that we belong together.