Airport encounters

Airports have a funny way of compressing time.

Everyone is in between something—cities, lives, versions of themselves. We’re caffeinated, slightly disoriented, guarding our carry-ons like they’re family heirlooms. And yet, every once in a while, the universe slides a small story into the seat next to you.

This one happened at SFO.

It was that awkward hour that’s too late for lunch and too early for dinner, so I ordered something anyway—because travel logic. I sat down, grateful to be still for a moment, watching planes taxi like they had all the time in the world, and pulled out the computer to get in a few emails

A couple came in and took seats nearby. Clearly older. Clearly comfortable. The kind of togetherness that doesn’t need narration.

We exchanged the usual airport niceties—the polite smile, the brief acknowledgment that says we are humans sharing oxygen. Easy. Warm. Unforced.

At one point, I asked the woman if she wanted me to move over so her husband could sit next to her.

She smiled and said, “Oh no, the view is better over here.”

Without thinking, I replied, “I think he already has the best view—of you.”

She laughed. He smiled. That kind of smile that’s quiet but earned.

That’s when they told me they’ve been together for 58 years.

Fifty-eight.

Years of airports and kitchens and arguments and forgiveness. Years of choosing each other again and again—through eras, hairstyles, world events, and probably more than a few missed flights.

There was no grand speech about love. No lesson wrapped in a bow. Just two people sitting near each other, still enjoying the view.

It struck me how rarely we talk about that version of love—the one that doesn’t perform, doesn’t rush, doesn’t need to convince anyone. The kind that shows up as ease. As humor. As staying.

Airports are full of departures. But sometimes, if you’re paying attention, they quietly remind you what it looks like to arrive.

I boarded my flight with that thought tucked into my carry-on—lighter than luggage, heavier than it looks.

Here’s to unexpected conversations.

Here’s to long love.

And here’s to always sitting where the view is best.