Comfort

I got home Tuesday night, finally, just before midnight. Denise picked me up at the airport, I drove home. (She really doesn't like driving in the dark.)

One last story from the trip.

Our 5:50 pm flight out of Milwaukee loaded a little late, but not too badly. Completely full flight, of course, making up for the previous day's cancellations. I was in seat 16B, next to the left wing; my neighbor in the window seat was a teenage girl who was a very fearful flyer. Are we supposed to feel vibrations? Yes, that's normal. Are the wings broken? No, those are flaps; they control the plane. What's happening now? We're taxiing to our runway--just driving along the ground. As we approached take-off, she asked, Do you mind if I hold your hand?

Not at all, I said. Would you like to borrow my bear?

We flew all the way to Denver with her right hand clutching my forearm, my hand over hers, and her left hand cradling Umberto.

Such a brave bear.