I was flying home from my honeymoon, alone. My husband didn't make it. A heart attack, three days after the wedding, right there in the hotel room in Cancun. I was 26. I was wearing black yoga pants and a hoodie because I couldn't bear to look at the "Just Married" t-shirts in my suitcase.
I sat in 14B, sobbing quietly into a cocktail napkin. The plane was full. Noisy. Happy vacationers coming home. The man in 14A was a large guy, wearing headphones and a baseball cap. He looked like he didn't want to be bothered. I tried to stop shaking. I tried to be quiet. But when the turbulence hit, I let out a whimper I couldn't control.
He took off his headphones. I expected him to ask to move seats. Instead, he reached into his bag and pulled out a beaten-up paperback book. Harry Potter. "I read this when I'm scared," he said softly. "Do you want me to read to you?"
I nodded, unable to speak. For three hours, this stranger—a grown man who looked like a linebacker—read about wizards and magic in a low, steady voice. He didn't ask why I was crying. He didn't ask where my ring was. He just built a wall of words around me to keep the world out.
When the flight attendant came by with drinks, he ordered two ginger ales. "She's okay," he told the attendant, blocking the aisle so no one would bump into me. "We're just reading."
When we landed, everyone rushed to get their bags. I couldn't move. The grief was pinning me to the seat. He waited. He grabbed my carry-on. He walked me off the plane. At the gate, my mom was waiting, dissolving into tears when she saw me. The man handed my bag to my mother. "She did great," he told my mom. "She's incredibly brave."
He turned to walk away, and I realized I didn't know his name. "Wait!" I choked out. "Why?" He turned back, offering a sad, small smile. "I lost my daughter two years ago," he said. "Someone sat with me on the flight home. I'm just passing it on."
He disappeared into the crowd. I never saw him again. But whenever I fly now, I bring a copy of Harry Potter. Just in case someone in 14B needs a little magic to survive the flight.
Anonymous
I’ve had to cheat on @jet2tweets with the old dreaded @loveholidays.
I’m SORRYYYYYY but who the fffff is making up the outrageous prices on Jet2 for next year 🤯 the very same package holiday on Loveholidays for 2 grand cheaper, scandalous.