Flight 4161

I was 30,000 feet above ground on my way home from putting my father six feet under. He'd passed a week prior in his sleep. Such a gentle way to go.

I watched the clouds ripple below the wingtip below my window. Watched the day turn into twilight.

"Miss?" A soft voice startled me from my thoughts. I turned my gaze to the flight attendant piloting the refreshment cart in the aisleway. "Miss, would you like anything?"

It seemed like only moments ago the same woman had helped me with my carry-on bag. Recent events had left me easily lost and what was normally a simple task, stowing my things away, had suddenly become next to impossible. She'd been keen to offer her assistance with a smile. Gently taking the bag I clutched to my chest. Had she known my late father's most prized posessions were secured inside? Maybe she knew the look. A red-eyed flight suddenly had a new meaning.

I hadn't felt hunger in days. I'd had to force myself to eat to avert nausea that now took the place of hunger. And here she was offering snacks.

"We have pretzels or peanuts and cola or water to drink. I could get you something stronger if you need it, miss."

"Maybe I should," I was dazed. "Yes. Pretzels and a diet please."

She smiled and placed the snack on the tray before me, then noticed the obituary program clutched in my hand. Its pages had begun to furl on the edges.

"Oh dear, I am so sorry for your loss." Her eyes were earnest.

"He was my father." It was easy to state facts without feeling.

"A difficult journey for you." She paused. "How are you feeling?" She leaned against the empty seat next to me. Her comfort gave me comfort.

"Numb." My eyes ached to cry but they were dry.

"To be expected, nothing wrong with that." I nodded and took a sip from my drink. "May I share with you something that was shared with me when my father passed?"

She knew the aching in my heart from personal experience. I turned to her and nodded ready to receive any advice from a place of experience.

"It's a good time to share it too," she said gesturing toward the window. "Stars are openings where our loved ones shine down to let us know they are happy. It's a beautiful sentiment."

It was beautiful. "Thank you," I smiled a quick smile and turned my eyes back to the horizon to watch the stars and nurse my diet cola.

When it was time to exit the plane, the flight attendant was back at my side gently pulling my carry-on from the overhead compartment. She had most definitely seen my white knuckles clutching it earlier.

"Here you are," She handed me the bag carefully then put a hand on my arm. "Please take care of yourself and get some rest dear."

I left flight 4161 that day not with a stunning revelation or new purpose but with the realization of solidarity. I was not alone in this experience. Someday I would pass that knowledge and kindness on.

No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.