Stories of supporting or helping othersby Andi on TwosOn the 12th of April of 2025, at 1:30PM, I was sitting on the plane on my way to Lisbon, and realized a lady sitting next to my mom couldn’t stop crying. My immediate instinct was to switch seats with my mom and come up with a respectful and noninvasive way to ask her if she needed support, and that I have anti-anxiety medication and could give her 1/2 of a pill (I said half because that’s the average and usual dosage for anxiety management. A full pill can make you a bit drowsier if it’s not your usual medication). She immediately thanked me and said her dad died and she will be late to the funeral because the freaking flight got delayed by 2 hours. She told me she’s a doctor, asked what medication I had, and asked me for a full pill. Obviously since she’s a doctor, I trusted her judgement, but I was afraid because she had previously had wine, and I knew the pill could interact with the alcohol, but I didn’t want to add to her pain by doubting her judgement, so I gave her a full pill (I kept an eye on her for the whole time effect of the medication to make sure she was okay). I told her the flight was 2 hours long, and she didn’t need to go through this alone. That I know I’m much younger, just 23 years old (she looks between 55-60), which she replied “my daughter’s age” to. She said she only needed to cry. I obviously respected her wants and needs, backed away, and let her know I’d be there regardless in case she needed something, and that she shouldn’t hesitate to ask for anything, because there is no shame in asking for support when you’re struggling so much. I spent the rest of the flight wanting to hug her or hold her hand, which I didn’t do nor offer because she had been assertive about just needing to cry. I could feel her pain, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how she’s spending 2 hours “alone” with her thoughts and pain, in an enclosed place, full of people who judge, and with no way to reach a safe space. She fell asleep by hour 1 of the flight. Snoring. In a way, I was glad she was resting and not just suffering, but part of me was really worried because I knew it was the medication and I would feel responsible if she was later too drowsy to even attend the funeral properly, or the after hours of the funeral.