Out of the blue, she says to me, "I’d rather be 40,000 feet in the air than 6 feet underground." I look up from my uninteresting lap, glance over to her and she’s radiantly beaming at me. A teardrop starts to form in my eye. I hope to be this woman someday. This time, instead of looking at my lap, I stare straight into her eyes. She’s a wise-cracker, but more importantly, she’s a loving sage.

I hold her hand. She hums, "We shall overcome…." I wonder whether I took magic mushrooms before this flight. I ask about her life and, whoa, here comes the gusher! Marilyn has been around the block a few times. I’m enraptured by her story...or is it the myth of Marilyn? Either way, I love her.

At some point, after a few more tears, I tell her I need to write something. I pull out this laptop and write this post about my slightly unbelievable experience.