The long ride back from Brooklyn is magically shortened by caring company. I close my eyes, sigh, and suppose that this is the sort of pause I had been seeking. Or is it fast-forward? It is suspension of some kind.
I have trouble with Time lately. Time spent. Time wasted and lost. Even Time as money. This reminds me.
“I have another late fee at Blockbuster,” I confess with shame.
“But it’s just across the street!”
“I know. In nine days, I can’t cross the damn street to return a DVD. I can’t even get that right.”
“Awwww…”
I sound pathetic. The train rocks and I close my eyes again. My glasses dig into the bridge of my nose -- I’d take them off , but I’m supposed to wear them when my eyes feel tired. After a long Tuesday, they are tired. I won’t admit to anyone that even when I am wearing them, I don’t look through them. Over, under. Never through.
“Well, even if you can’t get your life together, at least you get to be pretty.”
At this, I laugh. One of those Bette Davis laughs that sounds icy, if not a little bit cruel.
Ice melts and puddles as my hair is petted, stroked along with tonight’s unusually fragile ego. I love touch. I read an article once in the Reader’s Digest about orphan babies, who, though fed and sheltered, when deprived of human affection, turned their faces to the wall and died. In my classic sensitivity towards such issues, I cried for hours after I’d read it -- and every time after that I thought about it. Like my friend Sarah does on the subject of elephants.
When the slow train from Brooklyn finally jolts into the station, we say our good-byes. We exchange “I love you”s as we head to meet our separate train connections. I also love “I love you”. No one says it enough. We get afraid of its potential to mean too much, forgetting how much hearing it (much less saying it) matters.
An “I love you” and a kiss – it’s like getting tucked in for the night, right there on the subway’s Uptown platform. Like closing a prayer with ‘amen,’ it seems a wholly appropriate way to close a day.
That was lovely. You captured those moments of fragility perfectly. Thank you.
Posted by: carrie at October 6, 2004 11:51 AMglad to hear you got some love and hugs last night, baby.
Posted by: k at October 6, 2004 12:54 PMAnd that is why when one is trying not to do inappropriate things with inappropriate men one gets professional massages one cannot really afford. Because touch is very important, and when you outgrow your theater crowd in college that are always in a big puppy pile, you need to make sure you get enough touching.
Posted by: mathematician at October 6, 2004 01:14 PMI'd watched some show about US families that had adopted children from Russia. The ones left in orphanages to die, basically.
THEY have come to the conclusion that unless a child was adopted before they were about a year old, they would not enjoy hugs, touch, etc. And they had more trouble fitting in, causing trouble, than those that were adopted younger than about 12 months.
And the studies THEY've done on the baby monkeys given the choice of food over a wire Mama monkey shaped to hold them would always choose to be held.
Touch is very important, indeed.
Posted by: GrumpyBunny at October 6, 2004 03:59 PMLadymath: "Puppy pile"! That is the perfect way to describe the bouncy, happy theater kid experience. I miss being part of a puppy pile.
Posted by: carrie at October 6, 2004 04:14 PMI used to sleep in puppy piles with my sisters! Heart = warmed.
Posted by: Fish at October 6, 2004 04:48 PMThere's a "sushi deluxe" comment to be made here. Somebody, please?
Posted by: LiAps at October 6, 2004 05:13 PMOne word. Netflix. It really works (most of the time).
Posted by: John at October 6, 2004 06:26 PMOh, touch is very important. My friends-who-I-don't-see-much can always tell if I'm seeing someone or not without asking: If I'm single, I much more touchy-feely around my friends. Compensating, I suppose.
Posted by: Dani at October 6, 2004 08:20 PMBeautifully written, but it still makes me so sad for you.
I am so glad you at least know you're loved!
Posted by: DeAnn at October 7, 2004 03:12 AMTiVO for the cat? But the cat already has paws! (get it?) Oh, never mind...
Posted by: Dave M at October 7, 2004 04:42 PM