As Good As It Gets

Every time, I retell this story, I shut my eyes. And every time I shut my eyes when I retell this story, I’m blinded by a white light. Then I realize that the blinding , white light surrounding me, was not, in fact, a light at all. As a matter of fact, when I was finally able to open my eyes the first thing that I was able to see was my own breath fogging up the airplane window.

The bright white light I thought I saw was nothing more than the one of the very large clouds my humungous aircraft was flying through during it’s nine hour and forty -five minute flight from J.F.K. International Airport in New York to Istanbul, Turkey.

I didn’t know it at the time, but apparently my flight was first class. The flight attendant kept shooing away my money for the alcohol she was serving me, and I didn’t understand until my seatmates left. The attendant leaned in and pointed to the money I had tucked under my tray.

“You can put that away,” she whispered. “You’re one hundred percent comped by the Air Force. Ma’am. My condolences as well.”

That’s when the lump filled my throat and I couldn’t swallow; so instead, I just nodded. That’s when the tears fell. I did manage to clear my throat and then I had called out to the lady, “I apologize, Miss.”

“No need to apologize ma’am, how may I help you?”

That was the first time I looked at her name badge. It spelled out Rosemarie but the “O” had been replaced by a smiling rose cartoon. To this day, I’m unsure why that made me giggle, but it did. And at the time, I remember feeling completely embarrassed that I was giggling. So, I had to clear my throat again to ask,

“Can you just keep these coming? But can I have cranberry juice instead?”

“Absolutely, she mouthed more than she whispered. Then she winked at me and disappeared into the mistiness of the cloud covered cabin.

It was then that my seatmates had returned, from what I had first assumed was the rest room, but I am assuming from what they had to say to me next, I was completely wrong. Unbeknownst to me, I was traveling overseas on one of those large luxury aircraft where every seat was first class and apparently it had its own dining room and bar.

My seatmates were coming back from the dining car and they both had an after dinner cocktail in their hands. They were both seniors. One had copper hair and the other was a brunette. Their polyester pantsuits matched their hair color impeccably to the point I often wondered if it was deliberate.

“Oh Agnes, look she’s awake!” The brunette said in an excited whisper while pointing at me.

“Oh Bertie, hush the child just barely opened her eyes. She’s probably starving. Poor thing slept through all the movies and straight through dinner. You hungry honey?”

I don’t believe the expression that came across my face was actually a smile. It was more like my cheeks just pulled my lips until they were stretched taught across my teeth. I did, however, manage, to answer Mrs. Coppertop, otherwise known as, Bertie.

“No Ma’am, I’m really don’t have an appetite.”

Bertie decided I needed a mother at that point.

“Well the way you’ve got those whiskey bottles lined up across your meal tray there, you may want to put somethin on your stomach.”

Agnes decided to also chime in, “But you may want to wait until a little later cuz the meal they served was a little too rich for my liking. I don’t know why they make lamb that way. It kills the flavor. I just hope when we get to Greece, we get some good lamb. For whatever reason it’s fresher there.”

“If you say so,” Bertie smirked and shrugged unenthusiastically.

“You don’t?”

“You know what Agnes, you’re the one who likes to go to Greece to eat, I was never a fan, to be honest. What about you dear? Do you like Greece?”

“Never been.” I said feigning politeness. “I’m headed to Istanbul.”

“Really?!” Bertie exclaimed eyes wide with excitement. “What are you headed to Turkey for?”

Without any emotion whatsoever I replied, “To identify my husband’s body and bring it home.”

All I remember after that was the hush that came over the cabin. I swear if I thought harder I could picture Rosemarie float back into the cabin and magically place the gin bottle and cranberry juice on my tray just as the opening credits for As Good As It Gets scrolled across the screen in front of my fluttering eyelids.

***For the record, my now ex-husband survived his brain aneurysm rupture, and we blame the water in Turkey for my rupture in 2012.