When I’m at an airport, I often wonder where people are going to or from and why. Airports provide some good people watching, especially for a writer’s imagination. Sometimes it’s obvious like the energized children with Disney apparel headed to catch a flight with their families to Orlando. I once saw a young couple on a flight and the guy was fiddling with his wedding band constantly. It’s new, I thought. Sure enough, they’d gotten married the night before and were on the first leg of their honeymoon. The business travelers with only a briefcase or backpack these days are usually easy to spot. 

But I’ve also wondered about the sad reasons people fly. Someone is going home after visiting their significant other who just broke up with them. Someone is traveling to see their loved one for the last time or for their funeral. I finally fell into the sad category last week. In the middle of the night after conversations with my brother and mother, it became obvious that my dad was at the end of his earthly journey. So, at 3:00 am, my husband Ben booked a flight for me for later in the morning. 

I wondered how I was going to keep myself together in the airport. When one of my kids called to discuss the situation while I waited in the security line, I started crying and said I had to get off the phone so I could at least get through the necessary steps to reach the flight. I don’t think anyone noticed because we were all facing forward, and I wiped away the tears as quickly as possible. I made it without crying until I secured my rental car and was completely alone on the two-hour drive to the hospital. Two days later, I flew home having said goodbye to my father. I had to prepare for the family road trip back for the funeral over the weekend. 

I’m certain I will write more about my dad’s passing later when I’ve had more time to process. About the outpouring of love from family and friends. But right now, a week later, I just can’t help but come back to a lesson I’ve learned over and over and of which I still need to be reminded. Unless you are intimately involved in someone’s story, you have no idea what another person is going through, so be kind. Give them grace. Allow for the idea that someone may be dealing with problems under the surface that you know absolutely nothing about. 

I was on the verge of tears during my travels and had every reason to be in that state. I hid my fragility behind a very thin mask.  Thankfully, my travels went smoothly because if one thing had gone wrong, I might’ve crumbled. If one person had been unkind, I might’ve broken down. We must remember that we may be the difference between someone falling apart or keeping it together when they feel they must. We may never know when our generosity of spirit could make the way smoother for another. But perhaps we should assume that we are the ones who can ease another’s pain, whether we are aware of their struggle or not.