Today, a conversation triggered the face and phrase of a woman I knew years ago. ‘Clear as a bell,’ as my mother would say, in my mind’s eye, there she was before me: late 60’s, classicly beautiful, a natural-blonde- in-navy-blue-stylish, and recently retired.
She had been an airline stewardess for forty years, was most proud to be one of the activists that overturned restrictions based on gender, looks, height and weight: those who were qualified to perform that job or not. Because of her efforts, the industry is served by more than just a few people’s idea of perfect beauty. For many passengers of today, diversity is a given. But it did not used to be true.
In our first conversation, she explained that her current activity was ‘mud wrestling with God’. Until today, I had no clue what that meant. I thought I did, but at this stage in life, where all lenses are colored by the importance of how I spend time, whom I love, where I give, the care I take within and without, only now do I think I know what she meant. And it is humbling.