I love seeing Mrs. C. She was/is like a second mother to me, as I've blogged about before. I'm so grateful that she and Moey walk the earth at the same time I do.
I'll never forget seeing her on the morning my Mom died--May 20, 1981. The doctor had called early in the morning with the news [just like Dad later did, she slipped away at the hospital before dawn, when none of us were there to hold her back].
I walked the 10 minutes to Saint Mary's Church as if on autopilot, rounding the bend at Manhattan Terrace, crossing the railroad tracks, heading to the polished pews I had sat on so often with my mother. It just seemed the right place, the only place, to go. I studied the stained-glass windows, blurry through my tears, the white marble altar, the statue of Mary. I knelt, and I cried. And when I left to walk back home, who was outside in her car but Mrs. C., dropping her youngest son, Jimmy, off to Saint Mary's School.
She said something kind to me. I don't remember what it was, but it was kind. And even Jimmy had compassion in his eyes, wearing his Catholic school uniform with navy sweater vest. He ended up being a psychologist and I figure he must be pretty good at his job based on the look in his eyes that day when he was only maybe 11.
Mrs. C., an angel in my midst. Good night.
- Private Benjamin with H. All I can say is, God bless Joanna for having the patience and insight to hear us out and offer suggestions.
- Walked Sug around block, and walked home from Private Benjamin appointment.
- Had some salad.