Forget Coronavirus For Just a Minute

As the virus gained momentum in the United States, and was no longer an Asian or European phenomenon, I was on a series of airplanes traveling up the east coast with stops in Charlotte, NC, Baltimore, MD, Philadelphia, PA, and Boston, MA (oh, and I started my journey in Atlanta, GA). Each of these airports are major hubs, and home to a vast number of international flights. To say that travelers buttholes were puckered tighter than a baby's mouth after sucking a lemon would be an understatement. The Coronavirus seems to have us all rather distraught at the moment!

People are nervous, and for good reason. We are being bombarded with growing death rates without valid testing and recovery data. Most understand that the virus is more hype than dangerous, but there is still a significant amount of concern to be given to this twenty-first century plague. Before I move on, allow me to say this: I have never seen passengers so courteous, aware, and cognizant of their surroundings. At no time in all my years of air travel have I seen airports and airplanes so clean and sanitary. It is truly a shame it took a global pandemic to get us to this point, but as the saying goes, "It is what it is."

The reason for this entry, however, is one that has remained with me the past thirty-six hours. On my return flight from Boston to Atlanta, I had a layover in Philadelphia. I noticed an older woman whose head was held high; her face a haughty facade. I notice these things about people and make mental notes of them as I move about public places.

As luck would have it, the lady sat across the aisle from me once we boarded our flight from Philly to Atlanta. She quickly ordered a Bloody Mary (it was bloody 10:30 AM and I was astounded!) and drank it down before boarding group six was seated. She and I were seated in first class (upgrades were available for forty dollars, and I could not pass that deal up), and were in boarding group one. American Airlines has made remarkable progress in the expediency of seating airline passengers--thank you, Southwest Airlines for the model!

I was battling a cold and cough and attempting, rather feebly, to mask my cough as the hypersensitivity of winter sickness ran amuck through the plane. If you dared cough or sneeze, the consensus was you were infected with Covid-19, do not pass go, do not collect $200.00. I am currently on the mend if you are wondering. :)

About forty-five minutes into the flight, and three or four Bloody Mary's later, I noticed the haughty woman crying. I watched tears roll down her face as she stared blankly out her window, the bright morning sky reflecting on her shiny face. Not wanting to touch her, or anyone since I was sick, I leaned closer to her and asked if she was alright. The next few minutes rocked me to my core.

"Yes, I'm fine," she lied. She then followed with, "No, I'm not."

"Well, whatever is bothering you, I hope it turns out okay," I responded.

The tears really began flowing after our exchange, and I noticed her hand as it shook the empty cup that formerly held her drink. She spun the ice clockwise then counter-clockwise, her mind lost in thought. After a few minutes she looked at me and said, "I bought a one-way ticket to Atlanta. My daughter has cancer, and I'm trying to get all these tears out of me before I see her. I've never dealt with anything like this before."

Whew! I thought back to my original impression of her and realized how wrong I was. This poor lady was trying to maintain her composure in a chaotic environment.

"Where are you from," I inquired?

"Central Jersey," she replied.

For a few minutes, this glorious lady went on to tell me that her daughter and her daughter's husband had moved to Atlanta less than a year earlier. It was then that she was diagnosed with cancer in her adenoid and tongue. She showed me a picture of her smiling daughter lying in her hospital bed, a smile on her face, but beneath her chin a cut in her neck from her right ear to just past the midway point of her throat.

"How old is your daughter," I asked?

"Thirty-one," she said.

"I'm so sorry," I told her. "That's way too young for these kind of problems."

The lady wiped another tear away from her cheek, as she told me about how strong and wilful her daughter is. She was obviously a distraught mom going to a new city to provide something only a mom can give.

She and I talked for the remainder of the flight, and I helped her to baggage claim and to the location where her ride would find her. I let her know that she and her daughter would be in my prayers. It dawned on me after we parted that I never asked her name, nor she mine. But what she did do was thank me for letting her cry on my shoulder.

For that I am forever grateful.

Be good to one another, y'all.

~h