There's a poem that is always associated with the Challenger flight that went down, and specifically with Christa McCauliffe. Maybe I remember it because I went to Framingham State and it was posted in the auditorium. Or maybe for some other obscure reason. But it was written by a pilot and the first and last line are those most often quoted
"Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth...
Put out my hand and touched the face of God."
For whatever reason, every occasional now and then, I think of the last line. "I touched the face of God."
I'm not super religious but I believed in, I don't know, something. I believe in miracles, I believe that you can die of a broken heart, and I believe that sometimes you miss a bus so that the empty seat you didn't fill is taken by someone who worked all day and really needed to sit.
Yesterday, that happened.
Yesterday I went to a fall festival with my handsome almost hubby and cutie patootie baby. The festival was from 12-4, with plenty of time to make my nieces cheer competition at 5. Sure enough, by 4 we were done with kettle corn and bluegrass. Too early to go to the competition, we made a pit stop at a local restaurant scheduled for her christening dinner. Then the gas station, and finally, we pull up to the High School. It's late. So late. She's on at exactly 5.
He drops me off in traffic, it's 4:57. I thread my way through what looks like a sea of elderly people. There are at least a dozen charter buses. "All this for a cheer competition?" I'm thinking. I try top walk slow so as not to startle anyone but I know I need to hurry. I pass the crowd and frantically run to the door. Up stairs I blow by the ticket seller, and dash to the gym floor. I squat down in front of the stands and see her colors on the mats. WHEW! I look for her. Hmm, she's not in place. I see the tall black pretty girl that I know stands to the right of her. Where is she? Did she plead sickness? Was she mad that morning and hiding in the bathroom? I'm barely seeing the routine. I notice a pyramid and someone lets go of an ankle too soon. I think "Penalty for that. I didn't know her team moved up to that. I thought it was illegal" WHERE IS SHE?? I cheer anyway. I hoot and holler. GO W*LT*M! I scan for her. I just can't see her. The team exits the floor. I didn't see her. I look into the stands, and see my sister. She pointed looks left and right and mimics a rocking motion. "Where's the baby" she mouthes. "In the car" I mouth back while holding my hands at 10 and 2 and making the universal steering wheel movement. I hold up my hand, fingers splayed, signaling 5 and yell up "I can only stay 5 minutes" to which she shakes her head no. I squint. "No?" I shake back. "You already missed her" she mouths. "She went already".
I'm sad. She knows it. She looks at me sympathetically. I'm REALLY sad.
I shrug my shoulders, make a boo boo face, and wave. "Bye" I mouth. She waves back.
I leave, slower then I go in. It's empty out in the parking lot. Good for them, I think, they managed to move all those old people. I start to walk down the large hill to the middle school where I know sweet almost husband and baby are parked. I text my nieces mom. "I missed it" I type. She understands, she texts back. But I know she doesn't know how sad I feel. I'm bereft. I feel heavy. I missed it, I think, and it was important.
As I'm walking I see ahead, and older woman teetering on the edge of the sidewalk, she quick shuffles, grabs the pole, and steadies herself against it. I look around. No car, no bus. Maybe she's waiting for a cab. I approach, calling out so she knows I'm nearing.
"I'm certain you are alright" I say "But is there anything I can do to get you closer where you need to be." I ask
"I'm fine" she snaps.
Oh my god. It's my grandmothers voice. Oh my god. I freeze.
"I'm just getting off that hill. I don't need help." she says again.
I know that voice.
"Oh I know you don't need help," I say. "But I don't feel right walking by you. Can we at least walk together?"
"No," she says. "I'm going all the away down that hill" and she points to the large hill "My car is at the bottom, there were no spaces up here. I walked it once already. I can do it."
She even acts like her. I know it's not her, but she sounds like her, she's stubborn like her. She still drives...like grandma did.
"I'm going down the hill too," I say. "Really, I don't want to be a pest, but can't we walk together?"
She glares at me.
"I'm too slow," she finally admits. "You're in a hurry."
"I most certainly am not," I shot back. "I have a baby, she's in the car and I never get away from her. I love her but I could use a nice walk. A slow walk, You'd be doing me a favor." She refuses again.
Finally I say "Ok. I'll leave you alone. But just tell me. Is it me? Do you not like me? Was it something I said?"
She starts to admonish me "Don't like you, I don't even KNOW you.." and then she looks at me. She sees me smiling and realizes I'm not going to leave. I'll follow her if I have to.
"Ok, fine" she says begrudgingly. "But I CAN do it. It's just far."
"Thank you" I say. It's far for me too. And it's a beautiful day, and I'd enjoy your company."
So off we walked down the hill. I knew better then to take her arm, and I paced to her pace, but casually. As if it was my pace too. We talked. I wanted to get her car for her but it was clear that she would never have allowed it
And as we walked we talked. She had worked for the Herald for years. This was no "little old lady". She was smart...like my grandmother. I asked her where she was from. The voice, the voice. It was driving me crazy. Local, she said. Local I knew. But why did she talk the same exact way? "I grew up in Brighton," I said. I'm local too. She looked at me closely. "I live in Brighton". So did my grandmother. "I was born at Saint E's" I said. "I worked there for 16 years" she said. She said "My parish was Saint Gabes". St Gabes was behind my grandmothers house. "I was baptisied there" I said. We both said "I was sad when they closed it." I recognized her in spirit, although not in body. WE walked on and up ahead, I saw Doug walking towards us holding the baby. He understood that I needed him to show her to the woman.
We finally stop. That's my car, she pointed. And of course it was. It was a grandmothers car. A smart bright sassy grandmother who's life was coming to an end but who had all the fire and brilliance of a much younger woman. "I'm 79" she said. And she wasn't the Fidelity scuba diving 79. She was a housedress coral lipstick 79. The kind of 79 that knew about busing, about Whitey Bulger, about Charlestown in the 70s. She was my grandmother. We held hands to say goodbye. She looked at Doug and said "Your wife is a very special girl" and he thanked her. She touched Ellie's foot, and told us we were blessed. Then she turned and walked towards her car. I saw her stop and rest her bag on the hood. She was pretending to look for her keys but I knew the curb had scared her. I turned my back to give her her privacy. I pretended to fidget with Ellie.
"Goodbye" I casually called over my shoulder.
"Goodbye" she said
I turned back "Thank you for letting me walk with you"
She nodded and moved towards the door.
Doug and I walked away.
"I miss my grandmother" I said. I started to cry.
"I know, he said. I miss mine too."
And as we buckled ourselves into the car I realized that I was meant to miss the cheer competition. That I was meant to walk with Mary down that hill, and I was meant that day to be a gift to Mary and she a gift to me. That it was God's plan for each of us, and had I been but 2 minutes earlier, we would have passed each other by. That I wasn't there for my neice, I was there for my grandmother.
So God brought to me my grandmother, and to Mary a friend for a moment in time.
and I felt as if I had..."Put out my hand and touched the face of God."
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