Angels of Mercy

I don't know their names, but I owe two Southwest Airlines flight attendants (oops, I almost said stewardess) a debt of gratitude.

As I was crying and sobbing in my seat on the packed flight from Houston to Nashville, they very gently helped me up, took me to the back of the plane, propped me in a corner away from the boxes of snacks and the door to the lavatory, handed me a box of tissue, a glass of water and let me stay there the entire flight, even when we hit turbulence.

Have you ever tried to blow your nose at 36,000 feet when you've been crying non-stop? I thought I was going to have a stroke.

Now I'm sure it made their jobs easier to have me tucked away, not disturbing the other passengers, but I'd like to think they recognized a freshly broken heart and served a good dose of Southern comfort along with a bag of peanuts.