This has been a busy month. We have four boys, and we have visited each one over the past month.  First, we took a road trip to St. George, two weeks later we were in Missouri and now I’m sitting in the Provo Airport terminal waiting to board a plane for Mesa. I do not like the term airport terminal. It sounds, well, terminal, and that isn’t comforting.

I am not an experienced air-traveler. I much prefer a road trip to navigating airports. When we went to Missouri, we were scheduled to leave from SLC with a short layover in Dallas Fort Worth (DFW). I was not looking forward to the long trek from Terminal A to Terminal B in Salt Lake, nor was I looking forward to the short layover in the 5-terminal DFW airport. Given my experience getting from one terminal to another in Salt Lake, navigating five terminals with two granddaughters and only a short layover was concerning.

SLC ended up being a good experience. The girls acted like they knew what they were doing. They transported their suitcases and backpacks, with no help from Grandma or Grandpa; we went through the tunnel, along the walkways and ultimately arrived at our gate in plenty of time. Perhaps this younger generation has an airport-terminal-gene right next to their technology-gene that makes life in the 21st Century a piece of cake. 

When we landed in Dallas, we exited the plane as quickly as possible because we had to get from Terminal B to Terminal D in less than a half hour, and I knew B and D were not next to each other. Hadley spotted the sign directing us to SkyLift which was just down the hall. We got to Terminal D Gate 24 in six minutes flat. It would never have happened without the girls and SkyLift. Grandpa and I may have terminated our trip in Terminal B. We don’t have that gene that naturally computes SkyLift to get-where-you-need-to-be.

I still don’t like big airports with multiple terminals, but I am learning to be comfortable in a small airport. This morning Brent dropped me off at the Provo Airport, I walked right through security, almost like I knew what I was doing, filled my water bottle, found Gate 4 and sat down to wait for boarding. 

Now, I am trying to think of a different word for airport terminal. It is where your flight terminates, but it is also where your flight begins. I’m thinking airport origin or airport genesis. Think Genesis A to Genesis B, that is much more friendly than Terminal A to Terminal B. Life is Good when you are thinking about beginnings rather than endings. I just might book another flight!