Two and a half hours. That’s how long my wait was last Saturday morning from arriving at the Bismarck, North Dakota airport until the first of three flights heading home from vacation.

When you look at the photo above, you see four black chairs by the wall of windows. That’s where I chose to sit and wait. That’s where I met Isaac.

After the first 30 minutes, he moved to the chair beside me to accommodate a couple that walked up. I felt the need to start the small talk. Genuinely curious about his hoodie, I said, “The colors of your hoodie intrigue me.”

The rest of the conversation was mostly him telling me his story. About his marriage, their daughter, the challenge to bring them to America from the Philippines, his learning to walk again following a hospital stay, his struggles about making the right decision, being brought up Catholic, and his resistance to believe in just about anything due to imposters.

Somewhere in the middle he said, “I have no idea why I’m telling you all this.”

When the words ran out, he thanked me for listening and heading to the security line.

Something told me he needed to talk. Not make a decision. Not get advice. Not make a new friend. Just let it out.

Two strangers connected, around ten minutes. Over the colors of a hoodie. And life.