I Was Blind

It was what I affectionately call The Geriatric Express. I was on my connecting flight from Chicago to Manchester, NH -- for a business trip and to race the Timberman 70.3 Ironman -- and I was by far the youngest passenger in the first 10 rows of the plane.

I had scored an aisle seat near the front which was no small feat in itself, as the flight was completely sold out and I boarded after 70 or so passengers had already gotten on. Southwest Airlines’ policy is open seating once you board, so having a decent aisle seat near the front was really beyond my expectations.

However, things are not always as they seem. As I got seated, I came to realize the aisle seat was more like half an aisle seat, the middle being taken up by a an older gentleman who was rather tall and lanky in build. This is ordinarily not a problem for me since I’m average size, and there is some liberty with space in the aisle. It was also not a long flight, maybe an hour and 40 minutes, so I was willing to deal.

The gentleman’s travel companion was an equally senior woman, presumably his wife. I couldn’t help but overhear snippets of their conversation, and it sounded on several occasions like she was speaking to him in somewhat childlike tones. His manner of responding to her was similar, so naturally I assumed he had dementia, the beginnings of Alzheimer’s, or was simply mentally slow.

When the flight service started, he began to move around in earnest for his belongings. Several times his left arm and entire shoulder came right across my face, into my line of sight. The left side of his body would overtake the space in my aisle seat. When not moving around at random, his arm fully occupied the armrest between us – no “sharing space” or even a word about it.

A bit later the flight attendant came around to collect used cups and cans, and he didn’t make a move to hand anything back to her. He simply waited for her to take it from his tray.

I chalked it up to lack of experience in flying very much, or the sense of “entitlement-behavior” that seniors sometimes sadly exhibit. I can only imagine the trials many older people experience in the sunset years of their lives: chronic pains, weaker hearts, digestion ailments, slowness of memory as well as gait, family who don’t call or visit – in short, the world rushing by without so much as giving them a second, much less, respectful, glance.

I wish I could say my heart poured patience and compassion for my seatmates, but unfortunately that was not exactly the case. I was under more stress than usual, or I should say I wasn’t handling elevated stress as well as I could. I packed for 1) a business trip; 2) an endurance race that required air travel; and 3) some R&R with my awesome stepmom after the race. In addition, I was also traveling with my race bike for the first time. It was in the cargo hold as checked luggage, zipped up tight in a high-tech ballistic nylon bag with screws and padding in all the right places (sounds like some “enhancements” I’ll need in my 60s, but I digress…). All told, about $5,000 worth of gear was in that bag, with the bike, all its carbon fiber parts, and deep dish race wheels. I was a bit anxious to say the least – please be gentle with my baby! :)

In addition I was immensely tired. I had gotten up before 5am to ride and run, so I could get it in before heading to the airport. Then I packed the bike, race gear and clothes, ran an errand, ate breakfast, and waited for the cab driver to take me to the airport. Now the fatigue was catching up to me and my eyelids felt like lead shades over a window.

To be blunt, none of this was an excuse to be anything less than gracious to my seatmates. However, to be honest it was a struggle to not be annoyed with them. After falling asleep and jerking awake for the 10th time, I finally got up from my seat and went to the restroom. Upon returning I settled myself back in for a good read from my book, and…

…on the floor, sitting at the feet of my senior seatmates, in perfect peaceful repose, …was a beautiful young Golden retriever, his loving brown eyes inquisitively moving back and forth at his owners’ feet, as if to say Do you need anything? Is there anything I can do for you?

I was astonished to say the least. I’ve flown literally millions of miles around the world - several times over. I’ve seen service dogs at airports, but never actually in the cabin with passengers. Usually they’re crated and placed into checked luggage.

Not this time. I leaned over and asked the woman:

What is your dog’s name?

Woman (with a distinct Southern accent): He’s mah husband’s dowg…

I turn to the older gentleman sitting next to me, and…

Where one would expect to see two eyes looking out, instead there were empty and squinting sockets.

The man was blind.

Waves of understanding poured over me – the slow talk, the lack of awareness of “personal space”, not handing his cup to the flight attendant…it all made sense now...and my heart suddenly ached with pity, compassion,...and guilt.

Somehow I had the presence of mind to ask What is your dog’s name?

Man (quite amiably): His name is Gyro, but I call him Killer because he kills and dismembers Teddy Bears :).

He’s precious! How old is he?

Man: He’s 3 ½ years old and he’s the best. He’s helped me through so many struggles in life.

I murmured a polite affirmation and turned back to my book. It was a struggle to keep the tears back. Even writing this now tugs at my heartstrings.

I was the one who didn’t see. I was the one who was blind and it was worse than any physical handicap my neighbor had. I was annoyed and didn’t bother talking to them for an array of minor infractions - until I saw their dog - and even then I didn’t fully see.

I wondered Is this how I appear to God sometimes? Am I blundering about in life, blind to what He has for me, annoyed at the “inconveniences” of life, really because sometimes things don’t go the way I would like? How EASY it is to be a Christian when everything is “right” – people are nice, job is good, family relationships are strong.

I’ve viewed firsthand the jaw-dropping majesty of some of the most spectacular places on earth. I marvel at the Hand that created such beauty…and I’m ashamed that I would have the nerve to be annoyed with Him when things don’t go my way. I really can’t see what He sees – I am limited in my vision in endless ways, an ant crawling on a Rembrandt painting.

I’m grateful that, among His other magnificent traits, God is long on patience and loving kindness. That He is rich in unmerited favor, or grace, and doesn’t kill me on the spot for feeling this way. Sure, I'm "ok" compared to my human counterparts. But in God's standard, I'm well into the red. God could hit the Smite Button and be perfectly justified - I've wronged him endless times.

Instead He enriches my life with other people who help me see where my blind spots are. I pray for the humility to see these lessons no matter where they come from.

“I once was blind, but now I see…”

God’s grace is truly amazing.