To Provincetown, Sandwich, Shirley, Ayer and Boston, for showing me what I needed to.
Angela offers to take us to Provincetown. I have never been, I tell her. Did you know that it was Mary Oliver’s favorite place? I recited for them the night before my favorite poem,
When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes like the measle-pox;
when death comes like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,
I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?
And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,
and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,
and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
tending, as all music does, toward silence,
and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.
When it's over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.
I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.
I’d rather hang out at her house instead of being confined to a moving vehicle. Always feeling this way after traveling for a long time. But I take her up on her generous offer.
We stop at a beach, looking for flat rock, for Johnny to paint. She flies a kite that looks like a jellyfish. We talk and catch up a lot, and we get a nice meal at Provincetown, and ice cream. Both, which I pay for.
She is happiest and healthiest I’ve ever seen her. Grounded in her family. Taking medications for her depression. Seeing a group therapist with her sisters.
She tells me she always wanted to be a teacher, but went to Massachusetts Maritime Academy because her father told her to. Only to graduate and attend community college to chase her original passion. Her mother saw an ad which was shared with Angela to apply for a teaching post where she would meet her husband, the father of her wonderful and loving child.
Going around and around, she is doing what she’s always wanted to. Getting recognized by her students in a week’s time, for seeing students as people, beyond their grades. A well-timed and most deserved recognition.
After coming back from Ptown, I lay down to rest, getting ready for my next destination. I wish I could stay here and sleep but I have plans, and two brothers are waiting for me. I think we both would have preferred to chill at home, after dropping off little J at the bus stop. And I know I have been to enough beaches to know they all look about the same. It’s the people I care about.
It’s a long drive, and I can feel my body ache. I put on a blazer thinking I’ll be cold. N jokes, “You didn’t have to put a jacket on for us.” I laugh. When the bill comes, they offer to pay, and I respond, “Of course, I knew you’d want to pay for me, and so, I don’t want to rob you of such pleasures.”
It’s wonderful to be with them, and I’m grateful for the time they made for me. They look the same, except middle age showing on both stomachs, which surprise me. I knew them in our early twenties, when we were all chopsticks. N takes over the conversation, and after, we go to TJ Maxx to look around with N buying a toy truck for his boy whose birthday is tomorrow. I tell C that I’d like to stay over the whole day and not leave when he goes off to work. Because I am too tired and I need to rest.
We meet at his new place. Purchased during his separation process with his ex-wife. With N gone, he becomes chatty, telling me all about the new lady in his life. Free to express his enthusiasm, without naysayers of his siblings who love him and doesn’t want him to get hurt. After his wife, the mother of his three children. Going out with women, drinking and partying. Wanting to live the single life that perhaps she didn’t get enough of. Getting caught cheating on him, in their shared bed.
He is excited about this lady and he can’t stop talking about her. Until I hit a point of I need to get some rest. I ask for a pair of pants and sweatshirt as jammies, and we go to sleep. The next day, I make myself salad with different cheeses, and a bag of potato chips. Watching Netflix until he comes home, staying horizontal as much as possible, before heading out again.
I write him a thank you card before leaving.
On the way towards the Airport, I stop by a Walmart to rest and check out the mother ship in America. I try on two pairs of boots that fit me perfectly for the Cape Town winter. Leggings made from Africa, sold in America at a higher quality and lower price. I spent few hours here, only buying leggings, planning to order the boots online.
I drive off to the next destination, airbnb. The host gives me a recommendation for a Thai dinner that is utterly disappointing. I eat still, because I’m hungry. Thai off my list, though not satisfied. The place is full of cats, and I can feel my lungs itch. I pick up my little sister, and we go to sleep. We wake up, walk to have (bad) coffee, reminding me why I don’t like living in small towns. Then to the grocery store to buy some apples (win) and yogurt (so so). But really, there to buy ginger and lime, my remedy for aching body.
Her morning meeting is canceled, and we drive to Appa’s cemetery. Getting Marlboro Reds he used to smoke, and two scratch off tickets. Faintly remembering the last time I was here, tears blocking my views. I’m shocked to read an addition to his tombstone, listing his mother. Immediately, I think it’s his sister. Who behaved more like his daughter, his everything. Angering me the more I thought about the meaning. He couldn’t escape the reaching hands of his mother until his death, and her name marks his final tombstone.
With the cigarette and 꽝 Lotto tickets, we bow thrice.
We then meet my cousin, who is six months younger than me. At a Korean restaurant that shocks my taste buds with such low quality food. Yet, it is good to see him and his wife.
On the way back to Boston, we call the tombstone company to find out what happened. Messaging the eldest sister, we see that she gave permission based on the simple fact of there being space. I am upset. Had she asked me, I would have said no. This is unacceptable behavior, I say over and over again.
We go to North End for a seafood dinner. No reservations, we wait in line, skipping few groups as we are an easier duo to sit for a quick meal. Crudo is ceviche in American. I didn’t know. A crudo of scallops in red pepper that felt weird. I wish it was drizzled with lemon and olive oil.
The lobster roll with crunchy fries is delicious. The majority of oysters are too salty for my liking. A wonderful seat in front of the oyster bar, looking out into the window with people peering in, wanting to be us. Just like we used to be just half hour ago. We pay the bill and leave, to get ice cream, inspired by people walking down, licking their fingers.
Seeing an MBA cohort from years ago. He doesn’t hear me, and I don’t have the energy to flag him down. This world is small, when you move in similar circles.
The food here doesn’t really excite me. Even ice cream, after being spoiled with Moro Gelato.
The city of Boston where I used to spent my summers, working at Long Wharf. The Faneuil Hall, where I stood next to a journalist to be sworn in as American citizen. Where I was captured, with caption, “As American as American Pie.” Now show down for renovation. Sephora sits where there used to be empty space. The building where I applied for my citizenship. Everything feels unfamiliar, and unlike previous experiences, this place is bigger than I remembered. Everything gigantic and expansive.
We see a Korean food truck and another Michelin star Korean restaurant as we go back to Government Centre to take the train to Winthrop, and getting gas before resting to wake up the next more before 4am.