ACROSS the AISLE there is a lady nicely bejeweled – a watch, 2 rings, several bracelets, simple necklace and earrings.
I’m wearing what I always wear, 2 gold bands (one on my pinkie whose history I do not know). I feel for a necklace. Nope, not today. None. Why do we do this, make comparisons? Oy.
She must be one of those people I hear tell of who dress for appearance rather than speed going through airport Security. We all have our guiding stars.
* * *
I GOT PATTED DOWN again, this time just my left arm, but still. I’m WAY over quota.
* * *
IN the WAITING AREA, there was a lookalike for someone I know well, but I know it’s not him, so this is maybe the one and only time in my life I don’t strike up a conversation thinking I’m talking to one person when really it’s another. There are a few towns in the US where I am considered a very friendly, outgoing person…when really it’s just that I think I see someone I know and go right up and start jabbering and asking after the family before I realize I’ve got it wrong. But by then the person believes we really are acquainted. And, now we are. Talk about building networks!
Anyway, I survive Security, I don’t talk to the lookalike and I stop comparing myself to the 86-yr-old woman across the aisle who knows how to carry it off, the jeweled look.
I read “Enchanted April” in the author’s own words and chuckle for the first time in a long time. I mean, for real chuckling. Spontaneous. Authentic (but sensibly muffled, of course).
Next thing I know, we’ve left the rain behind and risen above the clouds.
This is a momentous day, but like all the momentous days of my life, the momentousness doesn’t hit me. I’m too busy processing details. The sense of momentousness lags behind. It’ll catch up, though. It will. It will all of a sudden. Like the chuckling.