While Waiting at JFK...

We just escaped the nor'easter baring down on Maine and most of the northeast.  I didn't post that we were away for New Years, well, as you know, because of the burglars.  We are home and almost defrosted.

I was going to opine the early defeat of my first resolution, don't eat too much. I'm not particularly proud of this admission.  Any self-restraint I possessed flew out the window when a freshly baked four layer cake called my name.  I blame the bone chilling New England night for my voracious appetite.

I was going to tell you how bad I felt, blah, blah, blah...pants too tight...horrific fat kid memories... Except, as I sat in the JFK terminal, typing away, a woman sat next to me, seemingly out of sorts. Tears streamed from her eyes as she spoke on her cell.  I overheard her say she was scared.  I wanted to tell her I was scared too.  Who wants to fly in a blizzard? A woman across the way smirked, sitting in glaring judgement.  If I wasn't such a peace loving gal I'd smack some compassion into her.

The weeping woman asked if I'd keep an eye on her seat.  I said I would, without sharing my fears; I talk to strangers too much, I'm told.  As she wrangled her bag over her shoulder and patted her winter coat on the chair, willing it to stay, she said, "I got a call at noon today, there's a kidney for me in Miami." Shocked, I replied, "That's wonderful!"  She looked at me, wiping her eyes, "I'm not there yet.  A man, only fifty-one died from a stroke.  This hasn't all sunk in."

I nodded in agreement.  So there it is, a punch in the gut, knock you down reminder of what really matters.

I hope the weeping woman is well and all she will ever have to worry about is the mundane calories of a four layer cake.