I think I suggested once that maybe there should be a stretcher waiting to catch my collapsing body at the airport. I was right. Since there was no stretcher in sight, it was up to Isla and Esther to support me. They did a brilliant job. I'll tell you more about it later, I think. Until then, let the pictures speak.
And wait while contemplating crashing the gate.
Needless to say, when he finally came through that gate, I couldn't even lift my arms to take a picture of him and the girls embracing. All I could do was push my fat, soggy, blubbering head into his chest and cry into his sweater.
Then I followed them out, like the kicked- puppy Paparazzi, camera in hand.