Yes, he did.
The acknowledgment of something true that does not require embellishment.
We flew out of Raleigh on a Thursday morning.
I had chosen the flight time carefully.
Not too early, because early was hard on Rose’s joints.
Not too late, because I wanted us to have the full afternoon at the hotel once we arrived.
The airport was the airport.
The security line was the security line.
Rose had the experience that first-time fliers have at security, which is the specific disorientation of learning the rules of a system that everyone else appears to know already.
She forgot to take off her shoes.
She forgot about the water bottle.
She was patient about both mistakes.
She had the quality of someone who is slightly overwhelmed and choosing not to let the overwhelm define the experience.
She said, after we cleared security: that was exciting.
I said: it was.
She said: is the plane that way?
I pointed.
We found the gate.
We found two seats.
We sat and I got her coffee from the airport coffee place and she looked around at the airport with the specific quality of someone who is very present in a place that is not normally their world.
She said: all these people going places.
I said: yes.
She said: all of them off to see something.
I said: some of them coming back too.
She said: still.
She said: still, all of this motion.
She watched the gate across from ours.
A family with a small child.
A man in a suit who was doing something important on his phone.
A group of young women with matching shirts that appeared to be celebrating something.
She watched all of it with the attention she gave everything.
The specific attention of someone who finds people interesting.
We boarded.
The seats were not together.
This had been the compromise.
Together seats had been available when I booked but they had cost significantly more and the budget was what it was, and I had made the decision that separated seats were manageable.
I would check on her.
She would be fine.
The flight was two hours.
We found her row.
I had booked her the aisle seat because Rose’s arthritis makes the compression of tight spaces painful and the aisle at least meant she could extend her right leg periodically.
The window seat was occupied.
