Our third son is low maintenance. He does his own laundry, cooks for himself, cleans his room (or not) and gets himself to work and school. But the other day he needed a ride to catch a train to catch a plane to Oregon. With a ticket I might add that he found and purchased with no parental assistance. 

We left enough time for a cautious driver like myself, not the skimmed estimate my daughter once gave me, because she leaves a trail of smoke behind her wheels. But early in the trip Zack noticed a temporary sign.

"Bridge to NJ closed"

Did we need to cross it? Where was the Trenton station exactly? He got on his phone and searched. Yes, it looked like we did indeed depend on that bridge. He began hunting for alternatives, which raised both of our blood pressures a tad. 

If only we had known then what we know now. 

I kept driving, a smidgen faster than is my wont, and we kept our eyes on signage. No more warnings were forthcoming, and when we approached the bridge, there were cars coming off which probably meant that we could get on. Which we did. I dropped Zack off at the curb with a sigh of relief, a hug and reminder to text when he boarded. 

In a couple of hours, as I was checking for proof that he was on his way, he let me know that the plane was delayed two hours. Then three more after that. He went on to describe the sense of community that emerged as travelers realized this was an ordeal they were facing together. People shared phone chargers, and information. They watched one another's bags while the owners ran to the bathroom. They exchanged recommendations for places to use their meal vouchers. 

It sounded like he made lemonade. He did not even express annoyance.

A collection of people who had no reason to speak to one another... didn't. But when circumstances got dicey, they crossed the invisible divide that keeps us separate like cubes in an ice tray. 

Perhaps a few years or decades from now we will be privy to knowledge that will make those separations melt.