Saying good-bye was not a hard thing for me. I thought we could meet again some time soon, and I guess I couldn’t still believe I was leaving the country.
One April morning, my family got in the car as my grandpa drove to the airport. On the car I couldn’t stop questioning about the unknown experiences I was going to have.
“Dad, is the airplane huge? Is airport huge as well? The airplane we are going to ride in won’t crash, right? For how many hours will it take? What time are we going to arrive in America? The house there is huge, right? Will I get sick riding on the airplane? Dad, are we there yet?”
The closer we got to the airport, the larger the airplanes looked. Arriving at the airport, I felt like I was already in different country. I had never left my home country before or even gone to the airport. I was excited to see all people rushing past me with their suitcases rolling on the shiny floor. Stewardesses were all pretty and smiling in front of the counter as they welcomed the passengers.
My relatives, too, arrived at the airport. We sat on the sofas, and chatted about the life I would enjoy in America.
The time passed by quick. My family and I started to walk toward the gate. I looked back to see my grandma and grandpas again. Through the crowd, I found them waving their hands at us from far, far away. I wanted to say something. I felt my words just about to come out. Instead a flood of tears came out.
My mom gently put her hand on my shoulder and passed through the gate. I couldn’t see them anymore.
We got on the airplane. The seats were in the business class, and there was a tremendous amount of space compared to the economy class. Then a pretty, red-haired, American stewardess came by me and asked, “Dear, do you want something to drink?”
I knew what to say, so I answered, “Orange juice, please.”
I was proud of myself for being able to understand what she said, and for knowing what to say.
I looked out the tiny window. All I could see was an endless grayish road that continued to spread beside the airplane, and many orange uniformed people rushing back and forth. I became bored with the nonstop scenes spreading before me, so I moved my eyes inside the plane.
I remembered my friends and my relatives, as well as my beloved hometown. And then I tried to think about things that were waiting for me in America. I couldn’t think of any. I felt salty water coming up and overflowing from my eyes. The airplane, after speeding up, took off from the ground. As Japan was getting smaller like a model, I couldn’t stop my tears. All I wanted at that moment was to go back and say good-bye properly.