Stories Never Told

While I’m flying home I think about all the different stories that I see in people. I always wonder where people are coming from and where they are going. Are they on their way back from somewhere or are they leaving to go somewhere? Is it business, pleasure, or holidays?

All I know is that I’m a volleyball player flying from RI to the beautiful CO for Thanksgiving. This raises a question for me. When I fly I feel in between lives. I have a life and a home in RI but my real home has been CO for 18 years. I live two lives. Is it like that for most college kids? Or do most leave behind their previous life and begin an entirely new one? Do they leave behind everything in hopes of finding something different? I don’t think I’ll ever be able to move on completely from the past. The past holds my CO family and friends. That was my life and, to me, it still is.

But back to the people I see while I’m traveling from point A to point B. You wonder what their story is but why don’t I ever ask? I’m curious about people and want to get to know ‘em. Are they business people just on the job or are they traveling to go kick it on a beach somewhere? Or for that matter, are they going to tear it up on the slopes of some world class mountain? Could it be sports taking them somewhere or the death of a family member? So many paths cross and so many stories go untold. You can people watch easily while sitting in an airport, like I am right now, but I’ll never know the stories of the two children playing across the aisle from me or the elderly woman with the sweet smile. To me each person is not just that. They are their own story that is waiting to be learned by someone who cares… someone who will mean something to that person holding the story.