His Last Flight

Holiday travel is stressful for the average person but imagine if you knew you were taking your partner on his last flight. 

I saw Mr. Richie as I reached for the handle of my bag, the moment I went to grab and toss it up and over the person below without dropping it on their head as you fake strength and don't ask for help. That moment you should be paying attention. 

That moment my eyes should have been locked on my business not Mr. Richie and something familiar to me.. his distant glossy, open mouthed, dry lips, pale skin, a frail tall man and sitting in the next seat is Mrs. Richie. 

It was clear they were a married couple of many years, she was sitting in the middle seat and he was in the aisle. She noticed me as I stood grabbing my bag and met her eyes with a no teeth smile. 

I was across the aisle and close enough to engage on this his last flight, and her journey to make sure he got there and back. 

The Richie's had met and married later in life, a second marriage for both and they both had children and grands grown. This flight was to see a gathering, a gathering of as many of them as possible, as many of them that could gather to say farewell. 

Mr. Richie is a great husband, father, stepfather and grandfather. Those that gathered on this his last trip thought he may not remember, that he may not hear them, that he may not see them, that he may not grip their hand like he use to. But he meant enough to them to journey to try, to let Mr. and Mrs. Richie know that he was great at all those roles, that he tried, that he made a mark their lives. 

Mr. Richie is on hospice. He has terminal cancer. As a hospice social worker in the past I know how difficult it is to get a "travel contract" and permission to travel on hospice care because it is the responsibility of the social worker. Mrs. Richie is thankful for her hospice teams and the care on both sides he is receiving. Because this is an important journey for both of them and everybody. 

As Mr. Richie sat in between us nonverbal, he had earbuds in attached to the backseat screen with a Disney moving running. His facial expression never changed, his fixed eyes never really blinked, his mouth remained open and every once in a while Mrs. Richie would wipe his chin as his mouth dripped. 

During the flight she and I spoke over him but tried to include him in our own way. From experience I knew he was there. I knew he could hear us, I knew he could feel my hand when I touched his because I couldn't reach Mrs. Richie. 

The love story of the Richie's is a sweet one, a second love, a chance given and some would say taken to soon. Mrs. Richie is thankful. 

Something I noticed about her immediately was how polished she was, she was dressed, dressed with jewelry, dressed like a woman of her generation, like a lady in spite of how her day or week was going. Her nails were done, she had lipstick on, she even took pride in how Mr. Richie was dressed for his journey.  

Of course I was impressed because in the same situation sweats, flip flops and nothing polished would be as dressed and together as you'd find me. Holding myself together, not. 

Yes, Thankful. 

Polished sweet Mrs. Richie spoke of how thankful she was for what she called their sweet rotation around the sun together, their second chance at a journey of caring for someone, their absolute resolve to take each other to what ever the end was for them. 

We both knew that Mr. Richie didn't have long when he returned home, that this was his last flight and he was in his last days. 

There wasn't a long goodbye for she and I.. 

As I was grabbing my bag from over his head, I just nodded and I know she could see the tear in my eyes and I saw them in hers.

I got just outside the plane and saw the high back wheel chair awaiting Mr. Richie

I just toughed it and walked by...

 

#hospice

#flight

#dying 

#family 

#love 

#social worker 

#marriage