It was early June and I was sitting in the aisle seat of one of those little commuter planes that a three year old would have to bend down to get into. I’m not partial to those conveyances. Not sure I’ve ever talked to anybody that does like ’em.

It was the big airport in Memphis. Her voice pulled the grumpiness out of me. It was Appalachian and had a mix of kindness and confidence in it.

“Excuse me, sir. I have that window seat right over next to you. Don’t get up. I can just scooch over by you.”

“Be better if I got up, ma’am.”

After we both got settled, she asked, “What you giggling about?”

“Was I giggling?” That got me a punch in the shoulder.

“No need for violence. Was just thinking, if I didn’t look old enough to be your daddy, I don’t believe you’d have offered to ‘scooch over’ by me.”

“Maybe. Probably had more to do with the radar women have for sizing up men. You come off as a gentleman … somebody who wasn’t gonna squeeze my butt and pretend like it was an accident.”

“Well, that’s nice to hear. Being a gentleman’s important to me. Momma drilled that into me starting off when I was little. I think she sensed how much I liked women even back then. She’d say, ‘Looking’s okay, Virgil. Touchin’, unless the lady invites it, is not okay.’”

“She’s still with us, I hope.”

“Yes, ma’am. Very much so. By the way, talking about mommas, how many kids you got?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“It is.”

“Got three boys.”

“How old?”

“Six.”

“Beg pardon.”

“Triplets.”

“Well, bless your heart.”

She took the next ten minutes or so to tell me about the boys. How different they were. How much energy they had and how her husband had decided he couldn’t handle the stress and took off shortly after the trio was born.

“Damn,” I croaked and wiped something out of my eye.

“It’s okay. Really. It’s okay. We’re doing pretty good. He comes from money so there’s no problem with child support. And my parents love looking after them when I’m working.”

“Still …”

“Yep. But he did give me those little treasures. And, well, better to find out he wasn’t cut out for the job early in the game.”

“‘I’m glad you can look at it that way.”

Just about then the plane pulled away from the gate, the flight attendant started telling us stuff about safety, and we were roaring down the runway. Took a good ten minutes for the commotion to settle down so we could talk without hollering.

“You said he wasn’t cut out for the job. Truth told, I don’t believe most people are cut out for marriage, much less bein’ a parent. Look at me. I’ve never even lived with a woman, unless you count an occasional two or three week stay over.”

“Why you think that is?”

“Not sure. If you press me, I’m gonna say it’s plain old selfishness. You wanta be a good spouse, you got to be willing to put a lot of what you want off to the side and focus hard on the needs of your wife or your husband.”

“And you know that because …”

“My grandparents on momma’s side. Saw it play out over the years with those two. Wasn’t any doubt about how much they were in love. Looking goo goo eyed at each other when they thought nobody was watching. Holding hands. Tickling each other. Chatting about nothing at all with each other out on the swing chaise on their porch. That kinda stuff.”

As I talked, she turned and looked at me like we were the only two people on the plane.

“I don’t know. When I was your age, maybe a bit younger, gramma started to fall off. Arthritis so bad she had to hobble around. Couldn’t go up stairs anymore. Then the forgetfulness set in. We’re all pretty sure now it was Alzheimer’s.”

“Through all that grampa was right there for her. Worse she got, the softer and sweeter he was with her. She’d shriveled up to the size of a little girl. Can still see him carrying her around, sort of rocking her in his arms and whispering and singing to her. I’d choke up when I’d see that. So would Momma. Saddened us to the core, but all that love? Uplifted us, too.”

“Then it happened. Winter time. Cold. Like you could throw a glass of water up in the air and it’d freeze before it hit the ground. One morning they were nowhere to be found. Nowhere. Us kin, sheriff, deputies, we start looking everywhere. Right in the middle of all that, Momma grabbed me by the arm and took off at a trot up a steep path.”

“Took us about fifteen minutes to make our way up to a big meadow that looked out on to Crumpkin Mountain. Big old maple right in the middle of the meadow. And there they were. Holding hands and looking as happy as I’d ever seen ’em.”

Right about then she started squeezing my hand and wiping the tears off my face with a handkerchief that smelled like lilacs.