JUST PLANE KINDNESS

I recently had to spend several days in NYC, and because my outgoing flight had been hastily rescheduled, due to a major storm, my entire itinerary got all jumbled and, long story short, I missed my return flight to Chicago... and then the one after that... and then the one after that.

While missing 3 consecutive flights is impressive, even for me, some of the blame has to be shared with LaGuardia Airport, its out-dated, garbled Public Address system, and the way they routinely change gates without making major announcements.

So after a full 24 hours in that hellhole, and approximately 36 hours without sleep, I was a veritable zombie when I finally took my seat, right in between two strangers — a woman to my left on the aisle, and a man to my right, who had the window seat. I employed a little trick I'd picked up to anchor myself in my seat and prevent accidentally rolling onto an adjacent passenger, by slipping both arms underneath my fastened seat belt, keeping them tight against my body.

I was out cold before the plane had even left the gate and remained in a deep sleep until a flight attendant poked me awake to offer me a mid flight beverage. I vaguely recall opening my eyes to refuse the offer, while remaining half asleep. But the shock to my system of that abrupt awakening, must have triggered some sort of involuntary emotional response, because, as I hovered in mid-unconsciousness, I realized my eyes were welling up. Still quite dazed, I dislodged my right arm and tried my best to inconspicuously wipe my away my tears. But the closer I came to consciousness, the greater the flow of tears, until it was a full-on torrent, complete with running nose, and silent, though visibly heaving sobs.

I had fallen into some bottomless chasm of grief, which didn't seem to rely on any one particular tragedy for its depths, but on the amorphous pain of mere existence. All I could do was cover my face with my right hand, as my left arm was still locked against my body and to lift it to my face would signal even more dramatically. This sobbing continued for an inordinately long time, and the harder I tried to contain it, the worse it got, until ultimately, I just gave myself over to the experience, which seems to have been the secret to ending the agony. Even before I'd fully stopped crying, I was already drifting back asleep, never having opened my eyes, nor taken my right hand from my face.

I continued sleeping until the man to my right, nudged me awake so he could exit the mostly empty plane. As I looked down for the seat belt clasp, I saw that someone — presumably the woman who sat to my left and who was now already gone — had pressed some beverage napkins into my left hand. Of course, she, and most likely several other passengers had witnessed my display, but respectfully allowed me the illusion of privacy.

Even now, I can't imagine what caused this eruption of grief to occur, beyond profound physical and emotional exhaustion. But upon reflection, I must confess that I can't help feeling genuine emotion, when I consider that gentle, even noble gesture of kindness, so beautiful in its simplicity.