Water Through a Straw at 35,000 Feet
On Friends In Unlikely Places ✈️
*I wrote this entry on April 28th.
Dear Treasure,
I’m on a connecting flight to Baltimore heading to a surf camp in North Carolina for people impacted by cancer. I genuinely cannot believe it! I get to learn to surf, something I’ve wanted to do but have been too scared to try.
I find that’s true about a lot of things in my life. I hold a longing in one hand and a pesky fear in the other that keeps that longing quiet.
For example, I kept this newsletter going for eight weeks until I dropped the ball on the ninth. Since then, I've been too embarrassed to pick it up again.
Perhaps, it’s not that deep or maybe it is. Anyway, it is really hard to get back on the proverbial horse after falling off. Since pausing this newsletter, I’ve been extremely reluctant to write again.
But this is me back on the horse.
On the plane, I am in the aisle seat. I sit beside two mothers and behind a third carrying a baby in her arms. The one holding the baby has hair that is the color of bronze coils, the ones that carry power from place to place.
And she does that with her words, when she turns around, eases into our aisle’s long conversation and adds, “we love people where they’re at and not where we want them to be.”
The second mother’s shirt, the one closest to the window, is bright pink like a highlighter that makes things fun and prominent in a notebook. She tells us, “worry is like a rocking chair, you just don’t go anywhere.”
As we chat about our lives on the ground, she interjects pleas for us to look out the window at something beautiful. We all do, leaning over each other like we hadn’t just met.
The mother in the middle seat lets tears roll as we talk about our worries, our sorrows, and the people we love on the ground.
She is on her way to see her son graduate college.
At 35,000 feet, we share more than tissues and mints; we share ourselves.
Then, I open my new water bottle to take a quick sip. To my surprise, water shoots up like a hose through the plastic straw and out the nozzle!
“I am so sorry!”
I say it over and over again, wiping my darkened jeans and the now damp leather blue seats with my sweaty palms.
They say, “Oh! It’s just water,” and laugh. The mom by the window pulls out a few napkins from her purse. Then, they all wipe the seats with me.
Embarrassment flushes my cheeks, yet their laughter and kindness washes away shame.
One mom says her daughter has a hard time making friends and spends a lot of time in the library, my eyes well up with tears and I say, “I did too.”
I share with her that in middle school, the librarians were my very best friends.
They took me in when I struggled to make friends at a new school.
I tell her, “the right people will find her like they found me.” She nods as we hear other’s stories and fly to Baltimore. That same mother gives me a book and writes me this note.
I’ve come to learn that friends find us at the right time. And I am thankful to have found friends in those three mothers who shared their wisdom and napkins with me.
Where have you found some unexpected friends this week? 💌
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Thanks for being here,
Ash
Sims Library of Poetry Feature
In April, the Sims Library of Poetry featured my poem in their newsletter! Check it out here. 📚
Dear Treasure
If you’re new here, I shared the story behind the newsletter on my first post. Learn more about the inspiration behind this newsletter here.
The Miracle & The Mending
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Glad you kept writing this!