My early recollections are rooted in my grandmother Eleanor’s kitchen, where she would arrange apple slices on a saucer and let me to listen to the radio as she prepared meals for her four children. Her hands, which had penned several birthday cards in exquisite handwriting and kneaded bread every Sunday for sixty years, captured my attention for hours. I used to think those hands were capable of anything. Because of this, witnessing Parkinson’s illness gradually take away her independence felt like such a harsh and intimate theft. Grandma’s only wish when she reached eighty-five in March was to meet Noah, my cousin’s kid, who was born in January in California. In an effort to provide her with a little more comfort and dignity, my mother and I scraped together our cash to upgrade her to business class for the lengthy flight. Fearful of being hurried, she was already wearing her best lavender sweater and pearl earrings hours before we had to leave for the airport. She had never flown anything except economy, and her enthusiasm was evident.
Twenty minutes into the flight, a high-pitched, entitled voice broke the relative calm of the plane. I overheard a woman in seat 2A, a passenger wearing a high-end Gucci coat, insisting that my grandmother be relocated. She gestured to Eleanor with a well-groomed finger and said to the whole business class cabin that Eleanor’s hands were trembling, which disturbed her tranquil experience. She insisted that the employees either relocate my grandmother or give her a better seat so she wouldn’t have to see her shaking. My grandmother, who had always prioritized the needs of others over her own, instantly froze. She tried to conceal the very thing she couldn’t control by tucking her hands under the duvet, but her face was devoid of color. She offered to move if she was upsetting others in a voice so tiny it broke my heart.
The flight attendant arrived at the row before me, but I was already halfway out of my seat, rushing with a protective wrath. With a steely resolve in place of her professional grin, she put down the tray she was holding. The attendant did not flinch as the woman in the Gucci coat increased her demands. She told the traveler that she would not relocate a passenger because of a medical condition that caused discomfort for another person. The woman doubled down on her entitlement as she mocked, but the attendant interrupted her with precise clarity, saying that she would transfer a passenger whose actions were bothering other people. Startled, the woman protested that she was being penalized for demanding a high level of service. All the attendant had to do was hit the call button, summon the senior purser, and present the information. The woman was immediately reseated in economy as a result of discriminatory harassment, which was against airline rules.
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