The Widow

by Norma Crown

How can I avoid sounding maudlin with such a title? But the scenario I am going to describe occurred because I was traveling alone to Florida for the first time in twenty years. I struck up a conversation with a woman sitting next to me as we waited at LaGuardia Airport for our plane to West Palm Beach. I learned her name, her age--in her sixties--about her two daughters--the brilliant one who had not yet reached her potential and the bright one who excelled vocationally and financially. We seemed to establish a tenuous rapport especially after we realized that we had an acquaintance in common, Fedora, whom I had met at a Florida creative writing group.

I mentioned that I had recently lost my husband and had acquired a cell phone for the first time which I wasn’t exactly sure how to operate. I had bought it for the express purpose of calling Scott, the taxi driver, to notify him when I landed in Florida. Edna assured me that she would be glad to show me how to make the call.

After an uneventful trip, we deplaned. I had been sitting in a bulkhead seat and was able to get off before Edna who sat many rows behind me. An attendant with a wheel chair was waiting for me, and I “hopped” in. I attempted to make the call to Scott, but my new cell phone was not working. It needed to be recharged. Edna then appeared and made the call to Scott on her cell phone. We learned that he would be at the airport in fifteen minutes. So, I thanked Edna and bid her adieu before being wheeled to the sidewalk just outside Delta awaiting Scott’s arrival. We had exchanged telephone numbers, and I learned that she lived in Boynton Beach.
As I sat there, Edna appeared and introduced me to her husband who had come to the airport to pick her up. I bid her adieu again and sat there waiting and waiting as other cabs came and picked up their calls. It began to grow dark, and it was chilly.

Suddenly it struck me that I was alone in the world--a poor widow--sitting in a wheel chair--how pathetic. For the first time since Davie’s passing this feeling pierced my heart. My brave front had a large crack in it.

Unbelievably, once again Edna appeared beside me saying, “Norma, I could not leave you sitting here alone.” She offered to drive me home, but I knew that Scott was on his way and said that I preferred to wait for him. She stood with me for half an hour while her husband patiently sat in his car nearby. Finally Scott showed up explaining that there had been an accident on the road--not involving him--but tying up traffic--and since my phone was dead, he could not call me.

I was overwhelmed by Edna’s kindness. Fortunately I was able to find her address in the phone book, and I shall send her this story in place of a simple thank-you note.
Edna you performed a mitzvah for this newly bereaved widow. Many, many thanks.