Disappearances

Both the Madame Tootsie Bagel Blog and I took an impromptu hiatus for the last couple of days. I’m sorry if you logged on and thought we had disappeared. Well, we kind of did. On Friday afternoon I had an impulse to get into the car and start driving out to the Midwest. I wanted to go back to Cincinnati, where I lived for four years after college and haven’t been back to since the early 90’s. I wanted to see it again, to see the places I had lived, and my old neighborhood. And I wanted to see my old friend Laura, who I hadn’t heard from since shortly after Sarah died. I was worried that something had happened to her. Because these days, if I don’t hear from someone, I have a fear that they are dying or already dead.

Yes, I could have searched for Laura’s email and telephone number, written her a letter saying “Please call me now” or some such thing, but my choice was to simply get in the car and drive across Western Maryland, a little bit of Pennsylvania, West Virginia, and all of Ohio. It’s at least a very nice drive, with the Alleghenies and no toll roads and no traffic jams to speak of and very few speed traps. Not like the East Coast at all.

My behavior might have had something to do with the fact that Max was off at an AA meeting and then went out for Chinese food with his AA friends, and I was feeling lonely and bored and not very happy. I didn’t want to face another weekend sitting around being the Documentary Queen. As I say that, I hear my mother’s voice in my head: Why aren’t you getting out? Why aren’t you getting together with friends? Why aren’t you calling people up and meeting them? Because I’m not, Mom.

Anyway. Car. Westward direction. I did stop for the night at a Best Western in Bentleyville PA, which was nice, other than the billboards asking me to choose between Heaven and Hell, which I thought were a bit unnecessary. I got to Cincinnati on Saturday around 10 a.m. and drove around. The city was pretty quiet, maybe because the students are gone, and I looked at the old Victorian house where Laura and I were once roommates. Then I looked at the little apartment building I lived in by myself and with a boyfriend. I walked around and ate a strawberry Graeter’s ice cream cone, which made the whole trip worthwhile. I drove over to try to find Laura at the address I had for her and she wasn’t home. She wasn’t at the library where she used to work either. I emailed her a message. I hung around a few more hours seeing a few things and then I decided it was time to go home. I missed Max and Polly and this really wasn’t the place for me. I also felt like Sarah wasn’t with me at all.

So I started the drive back East. (I still hadn’t heard anything back from Laura). I drove back again across flat Ohio and then the Alleghenies and I got home early Sunday morning after stopping again overnight, this time in Hopwell, Pennsylvania. Max and Polly and I were glad to be reunited. Max and I promised each other to plan more things, to do more things, to try to have more fun and lift each other up more and perhaps find a personal grief counselor.

My Dad called, concerned about my impromptu road trip. He said it reminded him of a couple of other spontaneous travels I’ve undertaken. Once five or six years ago, Max and I had a fight and I jumped into the car and drove to NYC and spent the day with my parents. The other time, I was 16 and on my way to school and decided on an impromptu basis to go and visit my brother at Yale via Amtrak. I guess sometimes I just need to get away, now.

I did hear from Laura on Sunday and she was sorry she hadn’t seen the message I sent her on Facebook on Saturday. She and her husband had been on a garden tour on Saturday. I was really glad to hear from her and told her I had a phobia about people I hadn’t heard from being dead. She emailed me a selfie and said she was definitely okay. She sent her phone number and said we should talk and she knew I was still processing Sarah’s death. I felt really relieved.