magic on sunday: text me when it happens

i told my mom to text me when it happened. i’d spent the previous week in maine for the thanksgiving holiday, but really it was a week of waiting for my papa to pass away from cancer.

in between games of cribbage and puzzle construction with cousins, aunts and uncles, we waited for the inevitable. papa mostly slept that week, but at least once a day there was a false alarm of his final breath. we’d all run to the bedroom, leaning against the wall, sitting on the floor, at the feet of his bed, pleading with him to not worry, to let go if he needed to. i remember holding his hand and telling him with tears racing down my face, “you’ve taught us how to be good people, we’ll be ok.” and if you knew him, you’d know that he was the textbook example of a good man, a kind human. he was love in the flesh.

i left maine knowing that his days were numbered and knew that any phone call from my mom in the next few days would mean that it was the worst day of my life. not wanting that sort of anxiety looming for the phone to ring, i told my mom that i wanted to know the news via text.

four days later, i woke up to a text message from her telling me that papa was gone (more accurately: “he went to heaven last night”). it was a wednesday morning, and i was scheduled to travel to cleveland for work the next day for a meeting. i went to work, made arrangements to get to maine after my meeting in cleveland, and floated through billable houses in a haze.

that night i went on a first date because it was already planned, and being sad with a stranger sounded better than being sad by myself. i met tom at the st. catherine, a bar in crown heights, and immediate upon exchanging pleasantries, i told him my grandfather had died that morning.

“sorry if my energy is low.”

he told me his dad passed away a few years ago from cancer too and offered his condolences. we shared drinks, sandwiches, and conversation until 1am, and i only peeled myself away because i had to get on a 6:30am flight to cleveland. he kissed me goodnight and i raced home to pack for a business meeting and a funeral.

as i sat on the tarmac waiting to take off while the sun was coming up, i sent tom a poem that we’d discussed the night before. a few hours later when i touched down in cleveland, he’d written me back, sending “having a coke with you” by frank o’hara.

“if this isn't the best poem about love that there ever was, i don't know what is. i'm sorry your weekend will be what it will be; stay in touch.”

eight hours after landing in cleveland, i found myself landing once again in new york, only to take off for maine in an hour and a half. as i disembarked the plane to walk to the terminal, i broke out in exhausted tears. i called my mom and she told me not to worry, that she’d have a pillow and a blanket waiting for me when i walked out of the airport in maine and that i could sleep all the way home to my grandparent’s house. “get something to eat and a glass of wine.” she instructed. so i pulled myself together, ordered something unremarkable, had a few glasses of wine, and waited.

when they started boarding my plane, the reality of the situation sunk in. i’d been running in such a blur for the past 24 hours that the emotion hadn't quite had a chance to land. waiting for my boarding group to be called, silent tears poured from my eyes once again and i frantically tore open my suitcase to find the tissues that i’d hastily packed.

“are...are you ok dear?” a woman a little bit older than my mom said as she approached me. shaking my head i told her, “my grandpa just passed away and i’m going to say goodbye.”

“i lost a grandpa once too” she told me as she hugged me and walked with to board the plane.

it’s been two years now and sometimes the sadness of him being gone stops me in my tracks like a punch to the gut. i have dreams about him from time to time too, most recently in october. in it, my cousins and i were eating fancy donut ice cream sandwiches and papa just got the biggest kick out of it. inspecting it, he took a bite and laughed as to say, “what’ll they think of next!?”

i love remembering him this way, and i’m pretty sure there’s an ice cream sandwich in my future this week in his honor.

magic on sunday: 12.03.17
up with people - lambchop
grass - xtc
suzuki - zach mexico
love and happiness - landlady
dog milk - palm
no buzz - secret guest
koreatown - sure sure

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