Tom

by Anthony Rowe

My older brother Tom and his family were coming into town for Christmas. Tom arrived first because he had been on the road, working as a stage manager for the Cleveland Ballet. His wife Gertie and two-year-old son Charlie were flying into O’Hare, and Tom and I were on our way to the airport to pick them up.

In the car, Tom shared the conflict he had been wrestling with. He told me how he had spent his life working hard in order to establish himself as a theater professional, but his work required him to travel and to be away from home. Tom told me that he was torn, but the cracking emotion in his voice expressed how much he loved Charlie, and how hard it was to be away from his son.

We were waiting at the gate. Gertie’s and Charlie’s plane had landed. The passengers started filing through the doorway. We saw Gertie and Charlie before they saw us. When Charlie spotted his dad, he broke into a wide smile, held his arms out wide, and bolted straight for Tom, yelling, “Daddy!” He ran full speed into Tom’s arms. Tom picked him up, and as Charlie wrapped his arms tightly around his father’s neck, Tom turned to me with tears in his eyes and said, “See?”