My Dad and a Danish Woman

 

At the airport yesterday, an older woman from Denmark sat beside me in the lounge. As it often goes, I struck up a conversation and we began talking about life and work and family. We snacked on chips and she offered me a piece of sweet frosted apple bread she had brought from home.

 

When I told her that my father had died recently at the age of 98, she asked me “Can you take a minute to tell me how your father died.”

 

I hesitated for a heartbeat and then said thoughtfully, “No. but if you have an hour, I can tell you how he lived.”

 

She bowed her head to conceal her emotion. We sat in silence for a moment as she wiped a tear from her eye. I did the same. She put her hand on mine and let it rest there for a breath.