During my time as a flight attendant, I encountered every type of passenger imaginable.
But there is one passenger I will never forget. Two years later, she impacted my life in ways I could not have predicted.
Allow me to paint a picture of my life first. My basement flat was just what I expected for $600 per month in the city.
But it was all I could afford at 26, after everything that had happened. The kitchen counter served as both my desk, workspace, and dining table. A little twin bed occupied one corner, with the metal frame evident where the linens had come pulled loose.
I looked at the stack of unpaid invoices on my fold-out table.
I grabbed my phone, fingers lingering over Mom’s number out of habit, before remembering. Six months. It had been six months since I had had someone to call.
