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Trinity

Out Of Control And Flying High

Sitting on a plane you cannot get away from yourself, not to mention the person beside you whose stomach may be rumbling from lack of nutrition on today’s service and happy or sad your innermost feelings show themselves surrounding like a cocoon for one, three, eight or eleven hours of your life with intensity.

My most recent rollercoaster of a flight was three plus hours to warm and sunny Miami from a dark and gloomy Toronto for my work. May I add it was Friday the 13th at the 13th hour………….I am still here!

I passed through the cabin looking for my undesirable patch of slightly padded foam, and breathing the air which would then be re-circulated countless times, air that was tainted with many different colognes and body odors of passengers squashed together was repugnant at this early stage.

The young exec in front of me stops to reorganize the entire contents of his oversized hand luggage before he attempts to ungallantly place it in the overhead bins. I wait as I have waited in traffic to get here, in line to check my baggage, in line to check in. I cannot be angry as I too made people wait en route through security.

My choice of travelling attire was not well thought out today. I wore my black skirt suit, fishnets and new $300 boots (which BTW I could not afford) with metallic heels. I was prepared to remove my boots, but to my horror and the up most irritation to all those in line behind me, I could not unzip them because the boot accessory (which fits over each boot like a bridle) was impossible to remove. In the end a middle aged woman, whom I imagine has daughters my age, threw down her laptop, bent down and removed the offending accessories in two easy movements. With a fiery red flush to my cheeks I thanked her and finally walked gingerly through the metal detector I am officially a bimbo and blond to boot if you will excuse that pun!

As I take my seat, relief is written on the face of a middle aged rather grey and stern corporate suited gentleman in the assigned seat next to mine .The words on his forehead read ‘Thank God she doesn’t have a baby, isn’t drunk and won't take up an extra room’ .Oh he hadn’t experienced anything yet!!

After some more waiting we receive sound distorted information from the attendant, who sounded as if she may actually be outside the plane and shouting through the plane door, that turbulence is expected so the seatbelt sign will remain on for the duration of the flight.

My underlying state of mind at the moment is of sadness, my mother passed away recently. Sitting on that plane my usually deeply suppressed emotion is right beneath the surface, I can hear a British lady behind me talking to her husband, this reminds me of her and I bury myself into a magazine trying to flip over every other article entitled ‘Your relationship with your mother’ or ‘Mothers know the real you’ etc. etc. The movie comes on starring Cameron Diaz; I am elated as this movie couldn't possibly have any substance. However I am wrong, and as I watch I feel the tears welling, I take off the earphones & rummage in my bag for a distraction, makeup, nail file, anything…………..but to no avail. I don’t even have a tissue. Looking forward I can apparently now lip read and I cannot shut off my mind. I feel my throat close and the sadness starts to flow from my eyes. The tears come quicker & quicker I cannot stop it now, my cardigan becomes a handkerchief. My plane neighbor looks directly forward beads of sweat visible on his brow. Everyone in the movie is smiling but I am crying. Mr. Grey now glances at me with a horrified expression, I must actually be his worst nightmare, better the baby or the drunk!

Then to the rescue came turbulence, no one likes it but not many people feel relief at its arrival. The bumps become more and more aggressive and Mr. Grey .is holding his red wine high above the table. Now the plane is jolting Mr. Grey in a futile attempt not to spill seems to throw his wine at his white shirt each time with thrusting force, obviously this is not on purpose but he literally appears to be helplessly unable to control his hand movements. My tears turned to laughter, he looked like he was in a comedy skit, it was hilarious. I offered him my cardigan he refused (not that blame him) Laughing & crying at the same time I felt like I was on the edge of insanity. The turbulence eased and he gulped the last of his wine in exasperated desperation but also with a surprising smile on his face.

Mr. Grey reached out and held my hand tight; ‘what ever is wrong’ he said ‘I am honored that I can be of some amusement or distraction.’

I did not know him and he did not know me but that grey stranger showed his true colors and touched me when I needed it most. I will not forget him.

Trinity in recovery.

Trinity

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