Connectedness

I watched a passenger on a flight to California squeeze this old tattered bear she carried aboard for the entire flight. The bear looked like it had been through the test of time. It's red vest was tattered and it's face was reminiscent of the 50's.
I told her I would be traveling to London soon, alone, for my birthday, and I wanted to visit Paddington Station because I grew up with Paddington Bear and it reminded me of my childhood. She said her mother had made that bear for her, the bear she held to tightly, and she was going to the beach to leave some baggage behind.
I told her I just wanted to watch the sunset and have a cocktail in a foreign country and enjoy the moment. She laughed and said she would be having a mimosa on the beach. 
Another little yellow sticky note from the Universe. I spent the summer before last traveling back and forth  to the beach to get over someone that hurt me, really the first person I thought I was destined to spend the rest of my life with. The first man to really break my heart. A month back and forth to the beach to just sit, listening to the ocean, and possibly a voice. Someone to tell me everything would be OK. I sat and cried and watched the sun rise and set while my tears cleansed my soul. A hard summer for me, and I understood what she was doing. Her trip with this lifetime bear-friend to soothe the pain.
And at some point during the flight, she looked over at me and said, "I just want to tell you, it's going to be OK". And I nodded.
Weird from any standpoint. Strangers connecting over empty space.
Strangers cross paths every day. Strangers have a voice in the universe.
As we landed, her tears flowed and I felt a little emotional for her, because those moments when you are so alone are the ones which change your life. That bear symbolized something I will never know, but she clung to it with the desperation of her future. We were connected. I don't know how and I don't know why, but I wanted to give this woman a hug and cry with her over a drink and then laugh because life goes on.
The sun will rise tomorrow.
For her and for me.
As she exited, I thanked her for flying and said, "enjoy your time", and she gave me the biggest hug and told me to enjoy my trip. The hug was so personal, as if we had been friends for decades, and again, I was reminded that we all touch each other. We all matter. It only takes 30 seconds to acknowledge someone. Their life, their pain, their importance.
I am so lucky to have the job I have and get to come into contact with a gazillion more of these people than I would if I sat home every night.
Connecting.