Discovering the circle of kindness

Taking her first solo flight in years, Lou Zywicki Prudhomme was beyond nervous. But a few strangers helped her realize she wasn’t alone at all

The instant I put down the phone, I regretted my decision. I’d just promised my daughter Karin that I would fly from northern Minnesota to Chicago to spend Thanksgiving with her family and my two sons. While I was on the phone, I was excited. Then one minute later, I was terrified.

Soon, things got worse. Karin called back. “I got a good deal on your ticket, Mom. You fly out of Duluth at 6 am and then change planes in Minneapolis.” Change planes?

The airplane trip scared me for two reasons. My late husband, Ernie, wouldn’t fly, so I hadn’t been on a plane for many years. Secondly, Ernie had only died three months ago and my grief had truly damaged my memory. My doctor assured me it would come back, but right now I had difficulty performing routine tasks and I got lost easily.

I couldn’t face my empty bed unless I took a sleeping pill, and I caught every bug that came within a 100-mile radius. During the last seven months of my husband’s illness, my main contact with the world outside our 40 isolated acres was by email. When he was able to sleep for an hour or two, I would write to our friends and family, sharing little stories about our struggle. Two of the friends on this list, Frannie and Larry, were neighbors we’d known for only a short time.

After Ernie’s death, Frannie, a teacher, used her precious Saturdays to stop in and check on me. She’d haul me off to the farmers market or invite me to a local concert. Above all, she listened without judging.

I was supposed to fly the day before Thanksgiving. The television increased my panic, reminding everyone that Wednesday was always the worst travel day of the year. On Tuesday, Frannie stopped in on her way home from work. I confessed that I’d promised to go to Karin’s, but then, to my horror, I burst into tears. My new friend listened, hugged me patiently and hurried home. I scolded myself. Lou, you are going to ruin that friendship. You have to stop being so honest.

A few minutes later, my phone rang. It was Frannie. “Lou, Larry will pick you up at 4 am. He’ll drive you to the airport and help you check in.”

I started a weak protest.

Frannie continued firmly, “Don’t argue.” She hung up.

As promised, Larry knocked at my door at 4 am. At the ticket desk, the harried clerk quickly checked my driver’s license, and then moved me on to a check-in computer. Ignoring the confused look on my face, she turned to the next person.

The computer refused to cooperate. Larry studied the problem and then typed in the information it asked for. Once we were past that hurdle, Larry explained how to get through security.

My fears took over again as I sat waiting for my plane. A confident young mother with a teenage daughter, a new baby and a busy toddler sat next to me.

She smiled. “My husband has to work, so the children and I are going to spend Thanksgiving with my parents in France.”

“You’re going alone?” I was astonished.

She looked so confused by my surprise that I felt I had to explain.

Again, I was embarrassed. “I’m just going to Chicago and I’m scared. My husband just died and my memory won’t work.”

To my surprise, she hugged me. Then she pointed to her teenage daughter. “When she was six months

“I was supposed to fly the day before Thanksgiving. The television

increased my panic, reminding everyone that Wednesday was always

the worst travel day of the year.”

old, my first husband was killed in a car accident. I couldn’t function. I had to live with my parents for more than a year before I was ready to be on my own.”

My new friend and I talked until I boarded the plane. Then as I sat quietly in my seat, another worry hit me. I turned to the man next to me, already buried in his book. I felt foolish. “Excuse me, sir. I’m sorry to bother you. My husband just died and my memory isn’t working very well. Would you help me remember to take my things out of the overhead compartment when we land?”

He smiled. “I’d be happy to. My mother was so distraught when my dad died, she never would have attempted a trip by herself.”

His kind words gave me confidence. We talked all the way to Minneapolis, and then he walked me across the airport to the gate for my next connection.

Fear didn’t hit again until I stepped off the plane in Chicago. Karin had told me to meet her in front of the airport. I hadn’t been prepared for the size of O’Hare. My knees shaking, I started down the escalator wondering how I would find my bag and my daughter.

At that moment, I heard a child’s voice yelling, “Grandma Lou!” Once again, I was saved.

Our Thanksgiving visit was wonderful but, before I knew it, it was airport time.

My busy son-in-law took the time to help me check in. Then more panic. I turned to the man sitting next to me and asked for help. He nodded. Next, he told me that his wife’s twin sister had just died. Throughout our flight, and all the way to my next gate, he talked of his wife’s pain. When we parted, he reached for my hand. “Thank you for listening,” he said. “I needed to talk.”

Now, instead of panic, I felt joy. On my final flight, the woman next to me sat staring at the window. Then her shoulders began to shake.

“Excuse me,” I said, gently touching her arm. “Can I help?”

“No.”

She was quiet for a while, and then said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. My husband died last month, and I don’t want to return to my empty house.”

I passed on one of the many hugs

I’d received on my journey. She wept harder. Then I told her about my husband’s death, and we shared our stories.

“Thank you,” she said. “This is the first time I’ve talked about my pain. I thought it would make things worse, but it helped.”

When I got off the plane, I told Larry about my amazing conversations.

He didn’t seem surprised. “Your courage in sharing your fears created a circle of kindness. When you open your heart, life gives you what you need.”

Openness creates kindness?

The years have shown me that

Larry was right. Today, I’m happily remarried, have traveled extensively, became a certified grief counselor and started a grief support group at my church in sunny Florida.

And every time I’m brave enough to open my heart, I find a new circle of kindness.