“You know what, sweetheart?

Maybe the best seats are in the back.

We’ll get to see the whole plane from there.” She nodded, but the tears were already gathering.

That was what nearly broke me.

It wasn’t the seat — I had slept in far worse places than the last row of an airplane.

It was watching my daughter realize, right in front of me, that some people could look at her father and decide he wasn’t important enough to matter.