Rainy Strings

This was supposed to be a short flight, and it was supposed to be a simple visit to home before noon.

But I asked too much.

My flight got delayed and canceled at the last possible minute due to bad weather. It was terrible and baffling when I arrived at the Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport. The first bad omen I wished I could foresee was when the gate that I was supposed to be got shifted to another one in a whole different area. It wasn't so bad; it happens to many people regularly, but one had to wonder if it was bad luck or a just life can't give you a break.

I was playing ping-pong across the airport, but I was the ball bouncing from one terminal to another. Worst part? It could be considered an endless game as the gates kept changing every half hour or so. One couldn't (or better said, shouldn't) feel the frustration of having to go around circles in a gargantuan place such as here. The mood was a little more dismal when seeing the windows being obscured by fog and raindrops. One thing was sure, every time I looked at the windows from a different side of the airport, I could always see a green light outside where the airplanes were at. Probably it was the only reminder of the fact that I was still here and not somewhere far. It was most visible when taking the Skylink (a small bullet train inside the airport) to change between terminals. I could see it from the windows as if it was dead-center by the airfield.

I was traveling alone to my old home to see family for a week. You could say I was feeling homesick after moving on my own, but there was more that it could take me all day to explain. It was, at best, just saying the basics and necessary details. All I could tell for the moment is that it was going to be a long week. The fact that I was stuck in the airport longer than expected proved to be the first thing in my trip.

Eating in the airport could be considered a blessing and a curse: There was a lot to choose from, but the costs were ridiculous. One could find anything every step you make across the terminal. From left to right, anyone could find their favorite brand restaurant or store, and Dallas-Fort Worth was practically a massive mall with all the things you could hope for. When I was taking a long walk to find my corresponding gate (I ended up looking for the wrong gate, by the way), two things caught my eye as I was looking around. First, the complex mosaics adorning the floor and the tall two-story sculptures that could reach the ceiling. Those cool colors were unusual and hypnotic but sort of random when you see those while walking. The only crime would be that you wouldn't be able to stand near them to look closely since chances were that you would be in a hurry. The sculpture was a different matter, unlike the mosaics, in which you could find more than one while walking. Second, the sculpture was in a single place: It resembled a castle made of iron. The very bottom of the structure had a tunnel that any person could go underneath it. Not the most exciting thing, but it seemed interesting nonetheless.

I had to move faster if I didn't want to miss my flight. That was the ever-constant thought during my stay while being stranded from home. It was clear that seeing all kinds of people from all places was the only aspect that never got me bored out of my mind. Some looked unique due to their unique cultures and religions. And sometimes, people who seemed that didn't care where to go.

After my first flight got canceled and having to rush yet again for the next one, I got exhausted. I wanted to sit and take a break from all that non-stop chase. So I stopped at a restaurant and decided to eat something alongside a cold drink. A Mojito Berry was something maybe I could get, but too bad it was pretty pricey, and there was no way I would know until paying the check. Nevertheless, the food was undoubtedly reasonable and admittedly appropriate for its price. It had the buttered steak, mashed potatoes, and steamed broccoli with a touch of lemon. At first, I doubted choosing such a meal due to the time bringing it and the number of people inside the restaurant. But luck was on my side, at least. It took shorter than expected for everything. My necessity of rushing disappeared in an instant after taking the first sip of my Mojito.

Sitting to eat and taking my time made me recount how long I had been in the airport; 4 hours already passed, and it felt that I did more tourism here than Dallas itself. I wished it would end there, but that would be asking too much, as I said before. So what could I do until then?

My new flight was scheduled to be during the evening, at first.

To much time to kill until then, and my options were limited. All I knew was to move to the gate and wait for the meantime. But, unfortunately, it turned into an endless loop when the gate kept changing constantly, and I couldn't even know if to stick to one place or else. Oh, the maze of life.

When I finally found where my departure flight would be, I got the bad news that it was delayed again. I shook my head and sighed while taking the most available seat among the other travelers. I could find the best spot by the corner next to the window, but far from the gate. I could not do much except look at my phone or listen to my music, but my headphones were out of charge after using them for so long today. Yeah, just my luck.

As time went by, more people started to show up and more packed that there were few seats to wait for the flight. So some sat on the floor and having their backs against the wall or window. Others were standing around or pacing themselves back and forth with little hope. I assumed that more people lost their flights and had not many options but to take the ones that would depart late at night.

Whether it be families, groups of friends, or solo. I would admit there was no denying that seeing people passing by across the airport made me wonder what their destinations awaited them. But, of course, there were exceptions.

A man in his 50's, long mustache, black cowboy hat, and a guitar case sat on the seat in front of me. He looked somewhat tired, his eyes were squinting, and his hands moved slowly. Then, after fifteen minutes or so, he began to doze off. I would do the same if I were his age. All that back and forth really got my head spinning.

I looked to the left and began seeing more raindrops hitting the windows as the sky gradually turned dark. It seemed so serene and foreboding. The fact that this was what caused me so much trouble at all was unimaginable. How long would it take? I just wished that dreadful weather be gone already.

And then I heard it.

The old man pulled his guitar before I could notice and started playing it. He pulled strings and let the music speak for itself. The ambient became more uplifting than before as I saw people's moods improving and humming with the rhythms. It was catchy for all I could say. "Nice music," I complimented the old man.

"Thanks," he replied. He kept playing his guitar for a couple more minutes until he finished up and put the instrument back in its case. It was entertaining while it lasts.

"Are you a musician or something?" I asked.

"You could say that," he said comfortably. "What about you?"

"I'm no good with music, that is all I can say honestly."

"But you seemed interested."

"For the moment, I spent more than six hours in this airport."

"Only six hours? You got lucky. I was here since yesterday."

I heard him clearly and almost didn't believe him. "Are you serious?"

"I am."

"Then how come you didn't fill a complaint or something?"

"If I'm frank, that doesn't bother me at all as I'm in no rush."

"Then what exactly are you doing?"

"Whatever I can while I have time to spare." An inquisitive and confusing process of thought the old man displayed with his words and eyes. What exactly was his deal? The easy answer would be that one is too tired to even bother to argue at his age. That is what I speculated until he said this to me: "You know, there is something I always asked myself when I was probably at your age."

"What is it?"

"People worry too much about looking for a goal or destination for all hard work in their lives. But is there ever a moment you just want to do nothing at all for one day?" He spoke while taking a long gaze at the people passing by. "We usually live in constant movement. So what's good about that? I lived long enough, trying to make others happy. So I don't mind it. Since I give some of my time good use while I'm here. Future or not, people tend to forget about the present." The old man's face turned back at me, looking straight at me. "What do you think of what I say?"

"I'm not sure."

"Sorry if I meddling in other folk's lives, but mind to tell me where are you heading at? That's okay if you don't want to answer."

Despite the option I was given to speak, I felt compelled to humor him for a moment and just share a little bit of myself. "I'm just heading to see family for a bit."

"Oh, really? That sounds nice. It is always good to see them once in a while," he said while leaning back against his seat, looking more relaxed while looking at the window. "Then you wouldn't mind listening to what I'm about to say to you. Because the moment I saw you, it was for sure that you wanted the day to be over. However, what exactly did you do with your time here? Was there something you liked during your stay? Because this would be one of those few opportunities that you could have the time I'm telling you. And visiting family is not different. Try to enjoy whatever you can while being with them. Do you think you can do that?"

I had difficulty looking for the right words. But, oddly, that old man saw it right through me; he was more perceptive than I could imagine. He wasn't wrong. What was I doing while being stuck here? I probably wasted a day here, but I still had more days ahead of me. "I can," I said with a nod.

"Good. Glad that you had the time to listen for a minute," the old man laughed for a bit.

Minutes later, I could hear through the speakers about my flight already arriving and ready to depart. People began forming lines. I said thanks to the old man before standing up and going to my flight. I was patient enough while going through the tunnel and finally taking my seat next to the window.

It was dark, so there was nothing at sight except the green light from the airfield. Then, finally, after thirty minutes, the airplane began moving. That was probably the last thing I saw before taking off from the ground and reaching the sky.