As we were about to take off, the woman beside me was struggling with her phone.
She gave me a frantic look and said, “I had a stroke last September. Can you help me?”
To my left a gentleman leaned over and said, “She should give up the thing.”
Upon takeoff, his phone rang.
“You’re no better,” I quipped.
He gave me a sheepish smile.
What I envisioned as a chance to catch up on some reading from Nashville to Kansas City last weekend turned into an hour-long marriage encounter session. Sometimes I served as the buffer between the couple who clearly had chosen to take their chances with a stranger in the middle seat rather than sit side by side.
“Before that stroke she was a different person. She used to be an angel,” he barked.
Time stood still before he added, “She’s still an angel. Just a different kind of angel.”
As the flight wore on I could see that after 65 years of marriage, their life stories had melded into one. They were no strangers to challenge.
The stroke had left the woman’s speech impeded. More than anything else, it required patience.
Not his strong suit.
Her voice also was barely above a whisper — a trial in the best of circumstances for her hearing-impaired husband.
The stroke had affected her short-term memory, she said.
They also had that in common, I thought.
