atoms into suns

The plane ride back was miraculously uneventful and the kids made friends with people all around us on the plane (really!), but it was nice to finally land in Denver. We were the last ones off the plane, of course -- us and the lady sitting in our row. I asked her if she wanted to get past us and out, but she said no, she could wait.

She followed us down the aisle of the now-empty plane, and once inside she asked if she could walk with us to the terminal. Sure, of course. I wondered why. She was friendly, grandmotherly, but after herding Small Children through three airports (while carrying two backpacks and a car seat), the paranoia was still flowing.

Before long it became apparent that she didn't really know where she was going, so I figured that was why she was walking with us. I made small talk, asking if she lived here or if she was here visiting family.

Sad news, she said. Her granddaughter had been in a bad car accident and was in the hospital. I got the impression that they weren't sure if she'd live or die.

We came up the escalator to the place where we were going to meet Bill. She asked how to get to baggage claim, and as I told her, her family walked up to her with tears in their eyes. The kids and I kept walking, toward a happy reunion with Bill.

Prayers (energy, mojo, good thoughts, etc.) for the woman's granddaughter are welcome. Her name is Alicia, and she's in a hospital in Aurora (southeast Denver, Colorado).