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Too Good at Goodbyes

I don't remember much of the first move I had.  I was four.  I mean, there were those cool moving sidewalks (escalators), I got to watch a lot of movies on my own little screen in the seat, and I guess it was a lot hotter when we got off the magic flying contraption.  But hey, it was all good.

As I got older, I started putting two and two together.  I developed a dislike for the "drop-off" points at the airports, you know, right before you enter the building.  I had a hatred of that little spot right outside the security checkpoint.  Those were the "good-bye" spots to a ten year old.  Those were the spots that Mimi and Papa couldn't pass, those were the places where the whole family stayed for the next five minutes, waving sadly.  To me, those were the boundary lines between my two worlds.  
I remember when my sister and I travelled down to Missouri one last time before we headed back to South Africa.  My grandfather walked us to the boarding gate and he cou…

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