A stranger cut in front of my 81-year-old father at airport security and called him a “confused old fellow.” Dad quietly told me to let it go.
An hour later, our flight’s captain ran across the gate and wrapped him in a hug, and the stranger pulled out his phone and whispered, “You’re the man from that story.”
Chapter 1: A Confused Old Fellow
My father has always been uneasy about flying.
At eighty-one, he still insists on doing everything himself.
He checks his boarding pass three times.
He keeps his ID in an inside pocket, with his hand pressed flat over it.
That is why I never leave him to find his way alone.
I’m Jill, his daughter.
I’m fifty-two, a dental hygienist in Marshfield, Missouri, and I have been Dad’s navigator through every airport since my mother, Maxine, passed away six years ago.
I should tell you a
