It was oversized, worn at the cuffs, and worth almost nothing compared with the clothes hanging in my closet.
But I loved it.
My sister laughed when she saw me.
"You could afford something newer."
I smiled.
"Mom liked this one."
She nodded.
Then hugged me.
The memorial was small.
Several former coworkers spoke.
One man described how my mother once stayed after her shift to help an elderly passenger who had missed a connection.
A woman remembered Evelyn buying lunch for a young father who had spent the night at the airport with two children after their flight was canceled.
Another employee said my mother always kept extra napkins beside the counter because she believed people should be able to wipe away tears without feeling embarrassed.
I listened.
And cried.
Afterward, I sat alone beside a window overlooking the aircraft.
For a moment, I could almost hear my mother's voice.
You'd be surprised how much a sandwich matters when somebody hasn't eaten all day.
Then I looked toward the terminal.
Hundreds of people moved past.
Some hurried.
Some laughed.
Some argued with airline employees.
And some stood quietly with the exhausted expressions of people carrying problems nobody else could see.
I thought about the company I was preparing to lead.
The aircraft.
The software.
The financial statements.
And the people.
Especially the people.
I decided that when I returned to Atlanta, I'd begin reviewing the airline's customer complaints personally with the appropriate team.
I wanted to understand the stories behind the numbers.
Then I booked my return ticket.
First Class.
Seat 2A.
I paid for it using my personal card.
Not a corporate travel account.
Not an executive privilege.
Just an ordinary confirmed reservation.
My flight was Crestline Airways Flight 617, scheduled to depart Chicago O'Hare for Atlanta shortly after ten on Tuesday morning.
I arrived at the airport early.
My sister dropped me near the terminal and insisted on giving me a hug even though she'd already done so outside her apartment.
"You call when you land."
I smiled.
"I will."
She looked at the hoodie.
Then at me.
"Mom would be proud."
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Then I nodded.
"Thanks."
I watched her drive away.
And entered the terminal.
I passed through security, bought a small breakfast, and walked toward the gate.
The airport was crowded but functioning smoothly.
Families gathered near charging stations.
Business travelers typed on laptops.
A group of college students laughed over something on a phone.
And airline employees moved between counters, answering questions and preparing for boarding.
I checked the Crestline app.