CONVERSATION WITH A ” NOT SO MUCH A” STRANGER ... MARCH 18, 2021
If I met you on a plane today, I would sink into my seat with a sigh -breathing a little forcefully into the mask layer closest to my perspiring face I am sure. You understand of course how stressful that walk and wait in the airport was, having just experienced it yourself for the first time in what is surely the longest year on record! Strangers we may be, but our bond is unquestionable-two grandmothers returning from a long awaited visit with our loved ones in the nation's capital. Is it serendipity that we landed our weary bones in adjacent seats? Adjacent now allows for the required seat between us of course. For reasons you can probably understand, I am traveling without my husband. He and I agreed to a much anticipated retreat from each other after a year of being attached at the hip...most days quite literally as I dragged my tired legs through all kinds of weather and sidewalk conditions to keep healthy and sane...using his body in the absence of a crutch or radiator.
After adjusting garments, carry ons and seatbelts we might share niceties and then set our ears and eyes on the guidance of the perky steward at the top of our aisle. Moments of wonder ensue-I am always exhilarated at the ascent from Washington’s Reagan Int’l. Airport, as I bid a silent farewell to my family below in their home on the campus of Georgetown. Seems like just moments ago I looked up with my grandson Andre, at the sound of such an airplane as this passing overhead! Of course, those memories would bring up a conversation between you and I about the wonder of our visit to precious folks. I might tell you with a little (maybe a lot) of pride about my son Jacques and the Georgetown journey that commenced with his Freshman year there. It’s just so fun to see him living in a prominent and historic building now, diagonally across from his first dorm, which was not nearly as spacious nor impressive! I might tell you what a thrill it was to see his five year old racing across Healy Lawn on a two wheeled bike, and heading toward Grosvenor Hall-the site of a photo with Jacques moments before we headed back to RI twenty four years ago, our car empty of his belongings and my eyes filled with tears.
You might share the news of your daughter’s pregnancy, just revealed on your week long visit. My, how speaking of births and babies can keep two women engaged! Years from now we will wonder at those lovely creatures conceived and born in a world wearied and strained by a Pandemic. These children no doubt will convey the sense of hope their parents gifted them with...they will bear names like Grace, Hope and many derivatives of Greek words that speak of light and miracles. My own seven week old grandbaby Lucille, whose name means “of the light”, will hear stories of the struggles and ultimate joy her parents lived to see on the day of her birth, January 20th, 2021. You and I , Dear Stranger No More, will share the knowing that all cannot be lost when there is new life still!
As we fly over the eastern coastline, our good fortune in making such a trip as this is not lost upon us. The gratitude we feel is surely amplified by our understanding of the heartache and loss experienced by so many. Our world is changed, our lives different in ways we cannot even fully grasp, our bodies bent a little more perhaps. But, we agree, that as sure as the sap swells the branches in spring, slowly feeding buds and blossoms, our own lifeblood is flowing a little more gently these days. The cold and damp of a RI March will still make us grumpy, but for shorter spells thank goodness! You will seek out and find the crocuses that emerged in your absence, I will note the greening of the grass in my yard.
We will part as a new type of friend, that once in a lifetime couple of hours relationship, shared and not to be forgotten. There are no expectations, just memories and smiles to carry home in our hearts. We are like so many moving through life, sharing spirited and colorful conversation on a waiting palate, and moving gracefully off the page again-off to our grandmotherly and womanly lives, gently renewed for the knowing of each other.
