it happened again
i stopped in at the walgreen's at 117th and detroit to pick up a toblerone on my way to kath's last night after work. as i fiddled with my wallet, the cashier suddenly said, "did you go to lamaze classes at metro?" i stared at her. for a minute i couldn't figure out what she was talking about. then i couldn't place her - i knew she wasn't a mother in the class.
and then it dawned on me - she was the coach/friend of the one mother in the class who didn't have a father with her. i asked her how her friend was. "oh, great," she said, and then told me in excruciating detail about her friend's daughter. as she talked, i thought to myself, maybe i can get out of here without her asking THE question if i keep talking, so as i closed my purse i said, "be sure to tell her i said hi!"
and then she said, "but how's your baby?"
i looked down a little and said gently, "well, my son died."
there is no way to cushion that blow to people, no way to say it honestly that isn't shocking.
there was a long pause and then she turned to look at the cases of cigarettes and said, "god, i feel like such an idiot!"
i assured her it was okay and that it was a natural question. i asked her again to say hi to her friend for me and got out of there. "take care of yourself!" she frantically cried after me.
i hate that.
*****
i hung out at kath's house and cried a little bit and we had the same conversations we seem to always have, or at least talked about the same topics, but it made me feel better.
then i picked justin up from work and we met greg at the winchester for acoustic jam night; it was midnight when greg went up, but it was worth the wait.
i took the slow way home, down detroit, since i had been drinking a little, and as we passed cleveland public theater, justin and i both spontaneously waved and greeted calvin, or at least his brick. it was pretty cool.
and then it dawned on me - she was the coach/friend of the one mother in the class who didn't have a father with her. i asked her how her friend was. "oh, great," she said, and then told me in excruciating detail about her friend's daughter. as she talked, i thought to myself, maybe i can get out of here without her asking THE question if i keep talking, so as i closed my purse i said, "be sure to tell her i said hi!"
and then she said, "but how's your baby?"
i looked down a little and said gently, "well, my son died."
there is no way to cushion that blow to people, no way to say it honestly that isn't shocking.
there was a long pause and then she turned to look at the cases of cigarettes and said, "god, i feel like such an idiot!"
i assured her it was okay and that it was a natural question. i asked her again to say hi to her friend for me and got out of there. "take care of yourself!" she frantically cried after me.
i hate that.
*****
i hung out at kath's house and cried a little bit and we had the same conversations we seem to always have, or at least talked about the same topics, but it made me feel better.
then i picked justin up from work and we met greg at the winchester for acoustic jam night; it was midnight when greg went up, but it was worth the wait.
i took the slow way home, down detroit, since i had been drinking a little, and as we passed cleveland public theater, justin and i both spontaneously waved and greeted calvin, or at least his brick. it was pretty cool.
posted by laura at 9:19 AM
2 Comments:
((((hugs)))) I am sorry that even a trip to Walgreens has to now be hard. I had a situation similar to that right after losing Caleb and it sucks. It just throws it all back up in your face. I am glad you managed to handle it so well (or at least appear to)
I'm sorry you had to go through that. There is no good way to cushion the blow. I'm always glad when people just don't ask. Luckily (or unluckily...depending on the circumstance) I'm from a small town and the word spread. Those moments always seem to sneak up on you, don't they?
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