We bundled up as well against the prevailing icy wind and cold as though we were headed off for an hour's walk in the ravine. But this trip was to the Ottawa International Airport when our younger son was due to arrive around five. He would be receiving a shock on arrival, from mild-temperatured, rarely-snowed-in Vancouver to his old home town. But he usually comes prepared, packing ample layers against the cold. And it's just as well that he loves snow, because there's plenty of it already this winter.

Traffic wasn't bad at all, so that was a point in our favour. And we were grateful for the intense cold since usually that is accompanied with clear skies and no untoward, unexpected storms in the near offing. It can be rather hellish driving in poor conditions to the airport; this time it was pretty smooth sailing driving.

The last time we arrived at the airport to pick him up in the winter, and in fact, many times previous to that as well, we drove through slick, icy road conditions and accompanying snowfogs with thick  traffic to trip us up our on-time plans. Similarly, the last time, which would have been this time last winter, we found the parking to be packed right in, and nowhere to be found was an empty parking spot. Not so this time. And we arrived with a bit of time to spare. His plane had already touched down and passengers were disembarking within ten minutes.

When we arrived the spacious arrivals area was clear of people. In an instant, it seemed, people were streaming in and soon the place was well crowded. Children are always drawn to the bronze one-and-a-half-times-lifesize sculpture of Canada's first Prime Minister, Sir John A. Macdonald and his cabinet colleague Sir George-Étienne Cartier.They love to clamber over the bench and into Sir John's lap, tweaking his cold metal nose and getting away with it.

The seasonal decorations in the hall were as colourful and comforting as always, with one large tree alight with decorations and a collection of Christmas-like objects sitting over the luggage carousels bearing the spirit of the season.

As usual, I anxiously scanned the people riding down on the escalators, trying to espie him as soon as I could. He's usually the one who brings up the rear, so to speak, never in a hurry like most other passengers. I was still looking through the steady arrival of people down the escalator to find others awaiting their arrival, little cries of pleasure and lots of hugging and hand-shaking taking place.

Then I turned around, hearing my husband say something, and directly beside me was our son, beaming mischievously like a rascal having managed his way toward us without my having spotted him. I threw up my arms and hugged him, overjoyed to see him after too long a wait, the intervening months full of activities and responsibilities that busies all of us.