Meet me at Alaska

At least every other week for two-and-one-half years, I flew into the Denver International Airport to spend the weekend with my handsome fiance in Colorado Springs. DIA's arrivals pick-up area is constantly busy so we found a way to avoid the traffic and, in the process, established a little tradition all our own.

Rather than deal with the busyness below, Matt would pick me up on the departures level--at the Alaska sign, to be exact. Consequently, every pre-flight phone call would end with an "I love you" and the now-familiar phrase: "Meet me at Alaska." And without fail for two-and-one-half years, Matt would be there at Alaska, waiting patiently with a smile on his face and a single rose in his hand. It was incredibly romantic and will always be one of my favorite memories of our courtship.

(From one such Alaska meeting about a year ago.)

This past weekend, Matt and I enjoyed a visit to our much-beloved Colorado Springs. I flew out on Thursday and Matt joined me on Friday night... which meant for the first time ever in our relationship, I got to pick HIM up at DIA. As you can imagine, I was pretty excited for the role reversal. And when Matt got off the plane, I was there at Alaska, waiting patiently with a smile on my face and a single rose in my hand.

The roles may have been reversed, but the moment was every bit as perfect as I remembered. And those butterflies I used to get the second I caught a glimpse of my Mister waiting for me? They were there, too.