Airport: Memory #3

At the end of my freshman year at BYU, I flew home for the summer. Although sad to be leaving some amazing friends, I was elated.

I got to go home.

I sat at the airport for hours, endured the terrifying plane ride, and then set off into the craziness that is Los Angeles airport, all the while texting my mom with my progress.

As I stood in baggage claim, waiting for my two enormous bags, I could feel the anticipation literally buzzing through my body. I wanted to run to the curb and to my family with a triumphant "Screw my luggage!"

But I didn't have to.

Because I heard my name and when I turned, my mom and my brother were both running through the crowds toward me.