then he said: one night in Frankfurt

How would you answer the question “Who are you?” No really, I mean what defines us? Sure, socially we’ll talk about our marriages or lack of, kids or lack of, our color, sexuality, gender, or job. What really defines someone—because for the life of me, I wish I could answer when someone asked “Who was he?”

Jason was my friend. He was married to his high school sweetheart, that is until she passed away—from brain cancer. He was the son of two lovely parents, who just a few weeks after his wife passed away, were killed in a car wreck by a drunk driver. He was a brother and an uncle. He worked hard, owned his own business, had an assistant that had worked for him for most of her adult life thus far. He traveled for work—emailing me from such places as Cape Town, Moscow, Kuala Lumpur.

So why me? How in the world did he find me? As it turns out, on a plane. You know those (often annoying) people who just want to talk to you on a plane? Well, it was either him, or the other gal (who was the annoying one), but someone I know, or knows of me steered him to my blog, based on their conversation on that plane. I would give almost anything to know who it was, I would sit at their feet, prepare a meal just to hear them wax eloquent about that meeting. Here is what he says about how he found me:

Someone I sat next to on a plane back in May recommended your blog to
me- I don’t know her name, she was from Minneapolis- that is all I
remember. It was in the context of a great discussion regarding the
GLBTQ community- I told her I was seeking to understand…. I made the
comment after a few too many drinks one night in Frankfort Germany.

Who are you woman from the plane? Do you know how far the ripple has spread in this vast ocean of connectedness? You cannot imagine how my life has changed because of what must have surely been a passing comment. You brought together two souls who, for a time, clung to one another, seeking to hear the thread and listen in to what was growing in them. You can’t possibly know it, but you opened doors for us—spaces only deemed safe in the quiet anonymity of text across the screen. Come forward, woman from the plane, I’ve got so many questions for you.

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