Vivi is officially a horrible flier. I gave her a pass on horrible flights one and two, but flights three, four and six were all equally as terrible. Notice how I left the fifth flight out? Yeah, that’s because horrible isn’t an adequate enough adjective for how bad our flight from Salt Lake to Chicago was last night. You guys, she SCREAMED the entire flight. And not just gentle complaints, but backwards head throwing screaming at the top of her lungs so loud people probably thought I was smuggling razor blades in her intestines.
She’s getting her top molars which has to have contributed to the misery but YOU GUYS. I did my best. Oh my gosh I did my best.
Once we got off the plane I realized because of delays in Salt Lake I didn’t have 40 minutes between flights, I had 4.
The thought of immediately getting on another plane with Vivi sent me into sobbing fits. I was all alone. I had at least another hour on a plane with her. I haven’t cried that hard in a long time.
I’m not even sure I’ve cried that hard in public, ever.
Despite dozens, if not hundreds of people seeing me crying while pushing a stroller through the terminal, no one said anything. One flight attendant on my flight was gracious enough to ask if I was okay, take my bags and get me some water.
When someone is visibly sobbing it’s not like someone who may or may not be pregnant, something is clearly going on. You say something, you do something. You don’t just look the other way because emotions make you uncomfortable. I have sat with many people in many different places who have been crying. With a mom who lost her son in Disneyworld, another woman who was having a panic attack in the Chicago Children’s Museum, one woman who was simply having a hard time at Blissdom and I hugged another mom when she got a call that her son was being rushed to the ER for a severe cut on his finger.
If you’re having a hard time? I hug.
I’m a hugger.
Even if you’re a stranger.
I’m also a hand holder or shoulder patter.
Someone once told me that it had been months since they had had any physical contact with another human. We’re not even talking physical bow chicka contact, we’re talking a hug or a hand hold. This wasn’t a smelly mean person either, this was a normal well adjusted human whom I like a lot. Just because someone is of a certain age, has a partner, kids or still lives at home doesn’t mean they get the physical interaction we all need as humans. Hugs can change lives. Hand squeezes can brighten dire situations.
I’m not saying you should make out with strangers or hug crying women in the airport for an awkward amount of time…but you guys. We’re all in this together, so why did I go through a panic attack in a very public place alone last night?
What stops you from helping people or reaching out?
(I should mention that when it comes to people asking for money, I’m more than happy to buy them food or a cup of coffee, or offer them food or bottled water I keep in my car. (Literally, beggars can’t be choosers right?) I have been told “I don’t want food, I want a dollar.” more than I have been taken up on my offer to buy/give food. Well then. Responses like this keep a tiny little cynic alive inside me.)