Kindness of Strangers

During my trip to San Diego and subsequent surprise detour to LA, in March, I had to rely heavily on the kindness of strangers. 

Losing purses and ID’s and having to figure out how to get money wired to get a car took more time and effort than our schedule allowed, and by the time we had made it back safely from LA to San Diego, I had missed my flight back to Dallas. 

I was having anxiety attacks so my friend’s boyfriend took over, called the airline, and rebooked my flight for the next day. 

He also took my phone and plugged in where I needed to go to return the rental car in my Maps, and set an alarm so I would wake up in time. 

I thanked him and said I was turning in for the evening. At 7 pm. 

I was exhausted from what was suppose to be our one day excursion to LA that turned into five days, a trip to Skid Row, lost purses, phones, ID’s, cash, credit cards, sunglasses, which the LAPD now possess, also a different story… 

I was still groggy and tired when the alarm went off, but I drug myself off the couch and got ready. 

I check the time. I needed to get going. 

I gathered my things and instead of making two trips, which would have made sense, I hobbled with all my bags to the rental car. 

I hit “Go” on my Maps and started driving. 

Traffic. 

When I got to the spot to drop off the rental car there were huge “WE’VE MOVED!” signs, but no address as to where they moved too. 

I google. The google address is where I am parked in the rental car. 

I start panicking.

 Shit. 

I could not miss my flight. Again. 

I started driving. And crying. Isn’t that a band? 

Anyway, I pulled into the valet lot, about to give up on making my flight, when I see a woman walking towards my car. 

I rolled down the window and ask for directions. 

She kindly rattled off about 10 minutes worth of information and could tell I was panicking. 

“When is your flight?” She ask. 

“Oh… in about 52 minutes.” 

She looked at me, looked at the car, came around to the drivers side and opened my door. 

“Here, let me drive you, but we gotta hurry, come on,” she gently pushed.

I jumped out and ran to the passenger door thanking her over and over. 

As we drove she assured me to stop saying thank you, that she was proud to see me traveling alone. Then she shared her story with me. 

She was sixty. An adoptive mother of five, and when she was forty, my age, she was going through a divorce and was in Thailand. 

She said her now ex cut off all her cards, her bank accounts, everything, while she was overseas. 

She told me how she had to rely on the kindness of strangers to eat, to bathe, for everything. 

I told her I was divorced and had just come from Skid Row… 

She got me to the rental car place. She came inside with me, got my luggage on my flight. Got me through security, and walked me to my gate. 

I thanked her again. 

“I knew there was a reason I was 20 minutes late to work this morning,” she replied and gave me a hug. 

Thank you San Diego Airport Meredith. You, are an angel. 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s