This is a story about kindness. About humanness. Humaneness. It could have gone so differently, but, it went like this:
I had just boarded an airplane in Midland on my way to Las Vegas. It was a Friday morning and my little Momma was in Mesquite, Nevada. She was alone except for her chihuahua and my Dad had passed away completely unexpectedly overnight. She had been in the hotel room with him. He had not been feeling well that day. He was very low energy and not interested in anything. Dad was always interested in everything so this was very unusual. Anyway, they were driving from Montana headed toward Arizona to get Mom’s knee replaced. They were on a mission and Mesquite NV was about halfway. They stopped for the night and, we believe, Dad had a massive heart attack in the early hours of that Friday. I had spoken to Mom on the phone and my main priority was just to get to her. My husband drove me the hour and a half to the airport and I was a wreck. I was intermittently crying and spending the time I wasn’t trying to *NOT*. Resting Bit$h face ain’t got nuthin’ on “trying not to cry” face. Anyway, I took the first seat that was open so that I could get OFF that plane and get to my Mom as fast as humanly possible. I took an aisle seat next to a woman with a baby. It was a smaller plane with only 2 seats on each side so it was “just us”. I don’t think it was long after takeoff and I was attempting to hold it together and she looks at me and asks “Are you OK?” I said “No. I just lost my Dad and my Mom is alone and I’m trying to get to her.” She said “Oh. I’m sorry. Had he been ill?” No, he hadn’t. “I’m sorry”, she said. And, I cried a little. And, she just sat there with her baby and let me have my feelings. The baby was being really good and she was a beautiful child and I asked how old she was. The little one was 6 months old and was going to be fitted for a temporary skull shaping helmet. We talked about her daughter some, just easy get-to-know-you things and we would fall silent. Then, she would ask me a question like “How old was your Dad?” and I would answer and she would say, so kindly, “I’m sorry.” I learned that a lot of babies need to have their little heads shaped but that she would only be in her helmet for 6 weeks. This momma was grateful that her daughter would be out of her headgear before the hottest part of the summer. She was the third child to her family but the first to have this need. Dad worked in the oil business and she was a stay-at-home Mom. She asked, gently, “What did your Dad do?” and she gave me the opportunity to tell her how he was a chiropractor, who did what he loved. He took early retirement at the age of 45 so he could “pack all the fun in his life” that was possible. He and my Mom played tennis, strung rackets and were both USPTA pros who taught lessons. Tennis was their passion until just recently with the discovery of pickleball, which had moved into the forefront of fun for both of them. She asked me how long it had been since I had seen my Dad. I told her how I had been with my parents just 9 days before for a long weekend. It had been such a great visit. My oldest and dearest friend and childhood neighbor “my Thister” had gone with me to Montana and we had spent 4 days hanging out with Mom & Dad. Dad had taught us how to play pickleball and we had explored beautiful Montana and met their friends there. Mom & Dad were summering in their 5th wheel trailer and we had been able to stay in the neighboring home. It was one of the best and most fun visits we ever got to have. With every exchange, as it would end, this gentle Mom would say, in the most compassionate way, “I’m sorry”. She offered me the chance to think of things besides losing him, besides the trauma my Mom was going through and ever so gently guided my focus to happy memories. I have heard the term “holding space” previously. I kinda/sorta understood it, but with my seatmate I experienced it ever so compassionately, firsthand. I had gotten on that flight hoping to survive it, but, I came off it stronger and already starting to heal from this loss because of the kindness of the lady on the plane.