Travel is a part of my life.  The airport is a common destination on my busy calendar.  In domestic and foreign destinations, I have both hurried and waited in airports.

Thursday I was admiring my roller duffel bag.  It appeared on the airport conveyor system, seemingly popping out of no where.  Then, it slid down on to the carousel. 

The seemingly endless line of luggage was like a semi-orderly parade of lost orphans hoping for a reunion with someone who would claim them.  Off to the side, surrounded by yellow warning tape was a pile of unclaimed luggage.  They all looked so sad.

My Navy, grey and black bag with striking orange highlights had no worries.  I have been waiting for that personal luggage many times and have only had an occasional episode of a temporary separation.  It was separated from me in Israel, Amsterdam, Johannesburg, Seoul, Singapore and Phenom Phen. 

But we’re together and still racking up the long air miles.  While more and more travelers bring as much carry-on as possible, I still choose to check as much luggage as I can.  My check-in personal cargo unit always my choice for travel.

Last night I couldn’t sleep.  In the wee morning hours I got up and did some work.  Even in the dark I can reach into my duffel bag and find the same pouches, slots, cubby holes that I use to keep myself organized.  That kind of calming familiarity comes over time.

What is certain and familiar about travelling together gives me confidence and personal ease.  He now shows his years.  There are flaws in his fabric.

The tough braided handles have frizzled.  One of the seams on the back pouch is torn.  Red electrical tape at points helps quickly identify my bag in case someone else has the same unit. 

It happened once.  She glared at me when I grabbed the bag off the conveyor.  I said sorry when I looked at her name tag.  I remember the burning red embarrassment that must have been visible to everyone within 10 yards of me.

There are worn spots, other minor tears and a couple of sliding pieces that don’t work well any more.  But we are familiar companions.  That kind of comfort is hard to replace.

Familiarity doesn’t always breed contempt.  In fact this is one of those times when familiarity boosts confidence.  Two old bags moving through an international airport…together as usual.

photo credit: Google image