Early morning. Missed flight.
Rebooked and rerouted. Charlotte, North Carolina to Denver, Colorado.
3-hour flight. Beside a stranger.
Slumped on the seat. Exhaustion prompted by the 4 a.m. wake up call.
Stranger says, “Can you help me?”
I turn my head, look into the stranger’s eyes, and put on an invisible smile. “Of course!”
Many firsts.
It was her first time flying. First time in an airport. In a few hours, she would see her first grandchild for the first time.
“Are you nervous, excited?” I asked.
“I am all of it,” she responded.
Reassuring words from me. Then, sharing personal stories.
Observing the expression in her eyes as we exchanged words.
The eyes in front of the mask began speaking to me. It was her only unguarded feature and I accessed their story easily.
The woman’s jaundiced eyes revealed a battle with health. A soft look of tired surrender indicated a life of long-suffering and a determined resolution of hope.
Naturally, my eyes reciprocated expression and emotion.
Wetness in her eyes. As if on the verge of tears.
They imparted an infectious posture of raw excitement and awe.
We connected. Trust as we discussed.
A stranger not five minutes ago opened up to me in ways I couldn’t expect.
It was difficult to overlook the feelings of expectant curiosity swelling within me.
Experiencing her world.
3 hours later, arrived in Denver.
An image of a broken, yet whole individual painted in my mind.
An understanding of life’s betrayal, yet the ever-present beauty it holds.
A resolution to authentically connect with people. To learn their stories.
End of hour three.
Found treasure sitting beside me.
Final destination: Sacramento, California.