I mentioned that I have a vacation to New England coming up. I have been preoccupied with daily life and realized that I’m scheduled to leave in ten days. My friend whom I’ve known since the age of eight had planned to accompany me on our various trips along the coastline, however due to a family illness; she may not be able to do this at this time. I of course have a fear of driving and being alone for any length of time, although I am getting better, so I have to decide if I want to cancel the trip or continue with the plans and go into Boston by myself for a day and wait for my daughter to join me and continue with another itinerary. At present I cannot decide. With “chat sessions” there is such a delicate balance, especially with the current events, I am cautious to keep everything in sync – if that makes sense. I go from feeling numb to sad and scared in a matter of moments for no apparent cause or reason. I feel like I’m acting a part in a play to get by for the time being, just to give me time until I can figure out what it is I am supposed to do. The grand scheme in life – where was I when they gave out copies? Yes I won the appeal, but are chat sessions really worth the upheaval in my life at present?
When my friend Lisa, moved back to Massachusetts after the fourth grade, I was devastated. I don’t know if I even knew what depression or loneliness was, but I was determined that I was going to save every dime I could and fly up to visit her as soon as I could. I saved most of allowance, earned money every conceivable way from sweeping our driveway (10 cents) to doing odd jobs as a young child. I had a vivacious older neighbor who would call and ask me to come over to help her tie her laces on her beautiful little shoes. I still remember she would pay me $2.00. She was a widow, Mrs. Reichert, and had lived a very charming, comfortable life. Our neighborhood was established in the 1920 -1930’s, large stately homes for the upper-class professionals. Everyone had a maid, gardener and belonged to the country club if they so desired, except my family, apparently we did not desire. Mrs. Reichert was a wonderful woman who spent a lot of time showing me her possessions from the past. One afternoon she showed me this egg-shaped sock darner and told me all about how it was used in the early 1900’s. I was amazed. She never had a daughter, only a son who was a lawyer. She was an amazing teacher to a young girl growing up in such a turbulent time. Mrs. Reichert was a special gift to me and I have never lost sight of that.
By the time I was finishing ninth grade, I had finally saved up enough money to buy a ticket to fly up to see Lisa! I was so excited I couldn’t believe the day had come. Five long years had finally been the magic number, how ever my mother had her own plans and I was part of these “special” plans. She had decided to go to Colorado, by Greyhound Bus, to Colorado to visit her mother, her mother who had only been to Florida once since I was a young child. She asked me if I wanted to join her, paying with my very own money to buy a ticket to travel to Colorado on a Greyhound bus to visit my grandmother whom I had only seen one time in my life. Yes- I know I repeated this. I’m still to this day incredulous at why she would manipulate me, but why not? Why the fucking hell not? As we traveled trough small towns and past fields of produce,cotton and wheat I saw my dreams of New England slowly slip away. I held no animosity towards my mother – I wasn’t in a place to say “no” to any of her decisions until I left home three days after I graduated High School. It would be another 17 years or so before I would finally step off a plane for the first time in New England and have never stopped the love affair since. Maine apparently draws my attention the most, without knowing why.
As for my dear mother, funeral arrangements in the future will be a breeze, I have a “special plan” I checked the Greyhound bus policy on baggage restrictions and found that they will not accept corpse’s or cremated remains. I do know that Service Animals are permitted on all public transportation. So if a Service Animal were to die, wouldn’t a coffin marked “Service Animal” be acceptable? Seems like a plan. I see one more trip on a Greyhound bus for my mother in the future – courtesy of me.
Humor – got to enjoy the perks when the pharmaceutical companies run out of options for people like me!!