The familiar landscape disappears below you as the plane gently lifts you into the clouds. The muffled voice of the captain can be faintly heard under the noise-cancelling headphones you bought with the gift card your aunt gave you the summer before she passed away.
The smell of coffee brewing wafts down from the front of the cabin. The twenty-somethings who got seated next to each other in the row ahead of you are deeply engaged in a conversation carried by soft whispers. They met during boarding, when he offered to help her put her beat-up roller bag in the overhead bid. They get married in a couple years.
You’re going far away, and you’re not sure when you’re coming home. Your soul aches for something you can’t define, and you’ll chase the vapors of it around the world until it materializes. For now, you have settled into a deep contentment, ready to meet whatever lies ahead with a clear mind and an open heart.
Made for Tony’s Mom.
