The Pocket Inn

How does one come to acquire a dear friend?

Two weekends ago I traveled back to Phoenix. Upon arriving at the airport I promptly got in line…number 57 group A. 56 people ahead of me stepped onto the plane and found their seats. In stepping on to the plane and rounding the corner I noticed a woman three rows back on the right hand side, sitting by herself reading what I later found out was a book about Israel. I kindly asked if I could join her row to which she replied “sure”, but not in that sweet grandmother way, it was more of a cold tone. I took my seat and positioned my items under the seat in front of me. Within ten short minutes we were off the ground. A minute or so after take off I glanced over at her book, not out of nosiness but rather out of interest, and asked “what do you think of your book?” We then spent the next fifteen minutes talking about the wonders of Israel. After that her tone did change into the sweet grandmother tone that I had hoped for all along.

We continued on to discuss our travels, our husbands, our jobs, and our home towns, never missing a single beat. About forty-five minutes into the flight she started to tell me about her children. She expressed the deep love that she felt for her son and then for her daughter. I inquired about her son and learned all about what he does, why his wife doesn’t want to have children, and what a wonderful uncle he is. The conversation then shifted to her daughter. I looked into the eyes of this woman as they began to fill with tears. A moment of silence passed and this sixty-two year old woman grabbed my hand and proceeded to tell me the story of her daughter. Her daughter had passed away four years earlier from a brain tumor leaving a little four year old girl behind. Tears streamed from her face as she expressed her deeply rooted sadness and as she discussed her daughter’s life, the moments before her death, and the funeral. I was overwhelmed by her struggle and felt strongly that I needed to bear my testimony of life after this life and the promise of forever families. We cried together for the next five minutes in expressing our different beliefs and in bearing our souls to one another. This woman is a phenomenal person, a wonderful wife, a beautiful mother, and an exceptional grandmother.

I got off the plane, still talking with her until we reached the baggage claim area in Phoenix. She then stopped me, gave me a hug, and whispered in my ear “you are my dear friend.”