So full of grief and tears, that I can't tamp it down any more.
Everyday there is something new. One day it's little Frankie finding a book in a box in my bedroom that Frank bought on how to be a better father. Another day it's realizing that I have to take Frank's name off of my health care proxy.
And God help the person who aggravates me!
Is it because all the heavy lifting is done? Making sure the right people knew. Planning the celebration of life. Listening to all those people who wanted to talk about Frank. Taking care of his affairs and possessions.
All that's left is time to think.
Whatever it is, I knew I had to leave Boston. I needed the opposite of the theme from "Cheers". I needed a place where nobody knows my name. So I jumped on line and used all my Amtrak credits to arrange a train out of Boston, down to Staunton. I need days to sleep and cry without worrying who can hear me and who I might upset. And I need to make Tommy dinner and listen to what he has to say.
And considering how close I am to smacking the two old people behind me here on Amtrak train 65, I can't get to my hidey-hole in the Shenandoah Valley fast enough. They boarded somewhere in Rhode Island and haven't shut up since. At one point when I was trying to sleep (I brought pillows), she began reading him news stories off of the Internet. It was 1:30 in the friggin' morning! And apparently the two foot rests provided at her seat were not to her liking because I looked down at my arm rest (that I had wiped down with antibacterial wipes) and saw her dirty shoe! I quietly said "For Heaven's Sake" and she pulled it away. He just whines "Why is the train stopped?" and "The train is moving so fast I can't stir my hot cocoa!"
Thursday, my new least favorite day of the week was also Infusion Day. I got up early so I could vote - it was Primary Day here in Massachusetts. Packed. I don't really need to transport stuff between Boston & Virginia, but I had some stuff I was going to ship down, so I figured I'd put it in suitcases and check them and save the shipping costs on some stuff at least. Anyway, then it was off to Tufts. I had my gadgets & a magazine and snacks and water and lunch. I was prepared. After entering the main lobby, I walked over to a bench to pull my stuff together. Hitch up my shorts, put my Charlie Card away, sling my backpack.....and I sensed someone moving into my personal space. A woman about my age asking where her purse was. I told her it wasn't here. She gestured to my bags and said she left it right there. I said well it's gone now and I pointed out a guy in uniform "Go talk to that guy." Then she became a little more insistent telling me she put her purse right there before going into the Au Bon Pain next to us. "You left your bag and walked away? That was stupid." Meanwhile, I am proceeding with what I am doing, gathering my stuff. "Can I look in your bag?" My head snaps up "No, you can not look in my bag, now get the hell away from me!" She turns to the guy in the blue uniform (hospital security, BPD, I don't know I haven't replaced my lost glasses) and he turns to walk away. She looks at me surprised "You won't let me look in your bag?" I just walked away. I felt good, like I had opened a valve and let a little pressure bleed off when I told her to get the hell away from me.
Sunday, September 11, 2016
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1 comment:
Tears can be a good thing. I once read that they help wash the poisons of grief out of one's system. Mourning someone you love is a good thing, as it confirms how strong your love is. You are a Good Woman, Maggie, and never forget that you are Badger Approved.
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