September 2, 2008--Bearer of Consolation
A waitress, let’s call her Ruth, at one of our favorite morning places was full of talk the other day. We were propped up at the counter as usual and honestly more eager for our first cup of wakeup coffee than the latest from Ruth.
Ignoring our relative unconsciousness and vacant faces, she went on about last weekend’s weather and the outdoor wedding she went to. She reported that she had bought a new pair of “stilettos” and had been worried all week that they would sink into the still wet ground and her husband, who told her to wear flats, would want to kill her. Not literally, she assured us, but he would have been “peeved,” that was her euphemism, if he had had to extract her or her shoes when she or they got stuck in the mud of the meadow. And that it was a full moon and so, since she “gets crazy” at those times, she couldn’t drink as much as she normally would have liked. But that was OK since her shoes worked out fine and the band was “hot” and she and “him,” she always referred to him as either “him” or “he,” “stepped out,” as she described it, and put on a pretty good show.
And all the while she chattered on she kept us lubricated with a second and then a third cup of just-right coffee; and, as a consequence, Rona and I came to our version of early morning awareness.
Noticing this, Ruth, always the kidder, said, “So I see you to have returned to the land of the living. I’ll bet,” she was at least half right, “that you didn’t hear a word I said.”
“No, no,” Rona fibbed. “I heard about the stilettos and about how you and your husband danced the night away under a full moon. Did I get that right?”
I marveled at Rona’s powers of concentration at such an early, uncaffeinated hour, and so did Ruth who shot her a skeptical look. “So then I should tell you about my pool. I already filled you in about how it’s nothing that special, just a place to splash around in after work and I dig around in my garden. And how refreshing it is. Well you know how frigid it’s been these past few nights and you can only imagine how cold it is by now. So, yesterday, when I finished weeding I was all sweated up and, silly me, without even thinking I stuck a toe in and then took the full plunge. Well, I almost died. Good thing he was around so he could call 911.”
This got our full attention. I even put down my coffee and got ready to express concern. But before I could she rolled with laughter and said, “I was doing a little exaggerating. I did feel like I was having a stroke or something, but he only needed to drag me out and give me a little mouth-to-mouth, if you get my drift. To warm me up. Let’s say it was a fun afternoon.” She winked. “More coffee?”
“It does sound like you had a fun weekend,” I finally managed to say, “and I’m glad you’re OK.”
“Never better,” she bubbled, “But I should take your order. You’d better put something in your stomachs besides coffee. We do have banana-apple muffins this morning. I know you like the bran but these I can vouch for. I had one right out of the oven and it was perfect. Made me feel I didn’t mind being back here at work after yesterday.” She winked again. “I guess by now you know that I like to enjoy my time. I’ve lived up here in Vermont all my life and to get through the winters you have to figure out ways to have fun while you can. And I mean more than just figuring out to deal with the winter weather. But I’m sure you two lovebirds know all about those! I mean you never know from one day to the next what to expect from life.” From the shifting timbre or her voice I knew that she was now, as she often did, turning serious. I pulled my stool closer to the counter so I could hear her better.
“Take my sister for example. She had it all. Enough education not to have to do this work.” Ruth’s sweep of a gesture took in all of the luncheonette. “She worked in real estate when things were going good. Married to the sweetest man you’d ever want to know. Two perfect kids. Cute. Smart in school. Just what anyone would dream of having. They were going along just fine, she’s a little older than me, when one day she felt a lump and before two long she had to have a mastectomy.”
“My God,” Rona said, “I’m so sorry to hear this. How is she doing?”
“Well that was more than ten years ago . . .”
“I suppose that’s good then,” I said. “They must have gotten everything.”
“That’s what we thought. Specialy after five years. They consider that a cure don’t they? Well, in her case maybe she was cured by that definition but two years after that she had a recurrence. She lasted another two years, poor thing. As good as things had been that’s how bad they became. She suffered so. But Bob, her husband, I told you how sweet he is, he took care of her every day of the last years and days of her life.
“He owned a hardware store and it was doing pretty well and basically running itself. He was able to be away from it so he could be with her. Kept her home pretty much the whole time. It was quite a love affair. He was so kind, so nurturing. Taking care of her became his whole life so you can only imagine how he took it when she passed. He thought that he somehow had failed her. His job was to take care of her. Keep her alive. And then that happened. When he no longer had her to love and take care of he felt like his life had lost its purpose. Which I suppose in many ways it had. It broke your heart to see him. I’ve never seen anyone sadder or more lost. It was like he just wanted to die. To join her. I think if it wasn’t for the kids still needing him, during the first few months after she was gone, he too would have withered away.”
Ruth turned away from us and I saw her shoulders heave as she took in a few deep breaths. When she turned back to face us she was again her old buoyant self, coffee pot in hand. “Decaf time, isn’t it? I know you guys like to switch to it for your, what is it, your fifth cup? You New Yorkers sure know how to put it away!”
I wasn’t sure if this signaled that she no longer wanted to talk more about her sister and brother-in-law; but by then I knew her just well enough to recognize how she would often in an instant shift from joshing to serious talk, and so I offered, “That must have been really hard for you.”
She did in fact want to say more. “To tell you the truth, it at times was so painful that I found excuses not to visit. I’m not proud about that, but I was having some of my own troubles at the time, which we don’t have to get into. But I did get up there every few week, offering to try to help. On occasion, when she was really suffering I took the kids home with me for the weekend. So they could have some relief.”
“This was a few years ago,” Rona said, “how are they doing now?”
“You are not going to belief this,” Ruth brightened, “They are fine. Actually, all things considered, quite well. But that’s not the part you’re no going to believe. It’s how things got better for Bob that you’ll think I’m making up. But, thankfully, I have the pictures to show you as proof.”
“This sounds mysterious,” I said.
“So let me tell you about the bear.”
“The what?”
“You heard me—the bear. The bear who brought Bob back to the land of the living.”
"This I've got to hear."
To be continued . . .
Ignoring our relative unconsciousness and vacant faces, she went on about last weekend’s weather and the outdoor wedding she went to. She reported that she had bought a new pair of “stilettos” and had been worried all week that they would sink into the still wet ground and her husband, who told her to wear flats, would want to kill her. Not literally, she assured us, but he would have been “peeved,” that was her euphemism, if he had had to extract her or her shoes when she or they got stuck in the mud of the meadow. And that it was a full moon and so, since she “gets crazy” at those times, she couldn’t drink as much as she normally would have liked. But that was OK since her shoes worked out fine and the band was “hot” and she and “him,” she always referred to him as either “him” or “he,” “stepped out,” as she described it, and put on a pretty good show.
And all the while she chattered on she kept us lubricated with a second and then a third cup of just-right coffee; and, as a consequence, Rona and I came to our version of early morning awareness.
Noticing this, Ruth, always the kidder, said, “So I see you to have returned to the land of the living. I’ll bet,” she was at least half right, “that you didn’t hear a word I said.”
“No, no,” Rona fibbed. “I heard about the stilettos and about how you and your husband danced the night away under a full moon. Did I get that right?”
I marveled at Rona’s powers of concentration at such an early, uncaffeinated hour, and so did Ruth who shot her a skeptical look. “So then I should tell you about my pool. I already filled you in about how it’s nothing that special, just a place to splash around in after work and I dig around in my garden. And how refreshing it is. Well you know how frigid it’s been these past few nights and you can only imagine how cold it is by now. So, yesterday, when I finished weeding I was all sweated up and, silly me, without even thinking I stuck a toe in and then took the full plunge. Well, I almost died. Good thing he was around so he could call 911.”
This got our full attention. I even put down my coffee and got ready to express concern. But before I could she rolled with laughter and said, “I was doing a little exaggerating. I did feel like I was having a stroke or something, but he only needed to drag me out and give me a little mouth-to-mouth, if you get my drift. To warm me up. Let’s say it was a fun afternoon.” She winked. “More coffee?”
“It does sound like you had a fun weekend,” I finally managed to say, “and I’m glad you’re OK.”
“Never better,” she bubbled, “But I should take your order. You’d better put something in your stomachs besides coffee. We do have banana-apple muffins this morning. I know you like the bran but these I can vouch for. I had one right out of the oven and it was perfect. Made me feel I didn’t mind being back here at work after yesterday.” She winked again. “I guess by now you know that I like to enjoy my time. I’ve lived up here in Vermont all my life and to get through the winters you have to figure out ways to have fun while you can. And I mean more than just figuring out to deal with the winter weather. But I’m sure you two lovebirds know all about those! I mean you never know from one day to the next what to expect from life.” From the shifting timbre or her voice I knew that she was now, as she often did, turning serious. I pulled my stool closer to the counter so I could hear her better.
“Take my sister for example. She had it all. Enough education not to have to do this work.” Ruth’s sweep of a gesture took in all of the luncheonette. “She worked in real estate when things were going good. Married to the sweetest man you’d ever want to know. Two perfect kids. Cute. Smart in school. Just what anyone would dream of having. They were going along just fine, she’s a little older than me, when one day she felt a lump and before two long she had to have a mastectomy.”
“My God,” Rona said, “I’m so sorry to hear this. How is she doing?”
“Well that was more than ten years ago . . .”
“I suppose that’s good then,” I said. “They must have gotten everything.”
“That’s what we thought. Specialy after five years. They consider that a cure don’t they? Well, in her case maybe she was cured by that definition but two years after that she had a recurrence. She lasted another two years, poor thing. As good as things had been that’s how bad they became. She suffered so. But Bob, her husband, I told you how sweet he is, he took care of her every day of the last years and days of her life.
“He owned a hardware store and it was doing pretty well and basically running itself. He was able to be away from it so he could be with her. Kept her home pretty much the whole time. It was quite a love affair. He was so kind, so nurturing. Taking care of her became his whole life so you can only imagine how he took it when she passed. He thought that he somehow had failed her. His job was to take care of her. Keep her alive. And then that happened. When he no longer had her to love and take care of he felt like his life had lost its purpose. Which I suppose in many ways it had. It broke your heart to see him. I’ve never seen anyone sadder or more lost. It was like he just wanted to die. To join her. I think if it wasn’t for the kids still needing him, during the first few months after she was gone, he too would have withered away.”
Ruth turned away from us and I saw her shoulders heave as she took in a few deep breaths. When she turned back to face us she was again her old buoyant self, coffee pot in hand. “Decaf time, isn’t it? I know you guys like to switch to it for your, what is it, your fifth cup? You New Yorkers sure know how to put it away!”
I wasn’t sure if this signaled that she no longer wanted to talk more about her sister and brother-in-law; but by then I knew her just well enough to recognize how she would often in an instant shift from joshing to serious talk, and so I offered, “That must have been really hard for you.”
She did in fact want to say more. “To tell you the truth, it at times was so painful that I found excuses not to visit. I’m not proud about that, but I was having some of my own troubles at the time, which we don’t have to get into. But I did get up there every few week, offering to try to help. On occasion, when she was really suffering I took the kids home with me for the weekend. So they could have some relief.”
“This was a few years ago,” Rona said, “how are they doing now?”
“You are not going to belief this,” Ruth brightened, “They are fine. Actually, all things considered, quite well. But that’s not the part you’re no going to believe. It’s how things got better for Bob that you’ll think I’m making up. But, thankfully, I have the pictures to show you as proof.”
“This sounds mysterious,” I said.
“So let me tell you about the bear.”
“The what?”
“You heard me—the bear. The bear who brought Bob back to the land of the living.”
"This I've got to hear."
To be continued . . .
posted by Steven Zwerling at
6:58 AM
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