Ulf Berge stood near the airport gate, his grown daughter in tow and clutching a vase of pink, yellow and purple flowers.
The flight was a few minutes early, but Berge was ready, his blue eyes straining a look down the long corridor where arriving passengers were heading his way.
Berge, 82, bounced slightly in anticipation.
Then he saw her, his only sister, walking toward him.
His mouth agape, Berge shuffled forward, kissing and hugging his elder by one year.
