It had been 10 years since I had seen her. I had fought long an hard with the immigration department and my application had finally been approved. And, she was granted a visa to join me. I started thinking of all the possible hugs and kisses I could give her when she arrived.
My daughter was now 13 years old. She was only three-years-old when I left her in Rwanda. And now that we could be reunited, nothing could stop me from making sure she would get all the motherly love and care she had missed. On the morning of her arrival, I awoke up four hours early and was at the airport four hours ahead of her arrival. Armed with lilies I had bought the evening earlier, I anxiously waited for her at the airport.
When she emerged from the lobby, my heart skipped a bit. I started smiling and eventually tears of joy started to flow endlessly. I cried as I hugged her and told her how much I loved and had missed her. I had never seen such a lovely, drop-dead gorgeous young lady in my life. Soon, we were all set to go. We jumped a taxi and we were home in about 40 minutes.
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