A Powerful Place

I sat between the trees again, tonight after class. I felt drawn there, once again.

I guess I haven’t really broken any of my promises to myself. The only thing I really promised is that I wouldn’t cry every night anymore. Well, I haven’t cried for three nights. Tonight was the first time since my promise.

I don’t know who I was kidding. I couldn’t have held back if I tried. My tears began falling as I walked past the payphones. Just the sight of our trees green with the leaves of summer made me sad for time that has passed. They were barren on our wedding day. We said our vows and I was glad I didn’t ask the J.P. what I had planned ot ask her --to leave out “Til Death Do us Part”. Back then, I thought those words would be too harsh to hear. Back then I thought Chris was going to die and I was afraid to bring any attention to that thought at all, so I left well enough alone.

Tonight I sat there and tried to call Meira, Carol, Robby, Teri and my mother. Robby was the only person who answered the phone, but he had dinner guests so I didn’t let on that I was sitting in the middle of Boston Common trying to hold myself together. I stifled myself. I’m not in the business of ruining anybody’s evening.

I tried Carol again and she answered this time and I let it flow out. Man, it felt good.

I have realized that my situation at work these days has been causing me some distress. The woman who sits in front of me is a breast cancer survivor and last week I was asking her all kinds of questions about how she felt when she was diagnosed, how her family felt, how the chemo felt, how it turned her life upside-down and she was generous enough to share with me. In a bizarre sense, I felt as though I was getting answers from Chris about how he felt about all of those things.

The other woman who sits across from me is currently battling colon cancer. She was diagnosed at stage three out of four stages. She underwent surgery and is now being treated with chemo. She has just returned to work on a part-time basis. Because her white blood cell count is low, she has been coughing the worst kind of cough imaginable. It sounds like it must be very painful and frustrating for her and it has caused me to think way too much about what Chris might have gone through upon his return to his job at the school. I know he felt isolated, strange and conspicuous and remembering that makes me really sad.

To top it all off, the other woman I have been working with for the past few weeks just got a research job with the Dana Farber Cancer Institute. I can’t seem to get away from cancer these days. I guess it all added up and ambushed me.

It has been the longest time since I walked the streets of Boston and Davis Square hyperventilating and fighting back tears only to arrive home and burst like a dike in a tidal wave. It happened tonight. I guess it will happen. That’s what Ativan is for.

When I arrived at my car in Davis Square, there was a piece of notebook paper under my windshield wiper. It was a note from Meira saying that she hoped I had a good time in class and NOT walking home with her. Even in the midst of my breakdown, it made me laugh out loud. I love my friends.