Monday morning

February, 2019

 

Brushing second coat of mascara on too few lashes

Wide-open eyes glance over the vanity mirror

Dad’s Feb 1973 Commuter Pass

Tucked behind photos and momentoes

On a satin-padded bulletin board

 

Dad traveled miles and miles for a better life

On The Erie Lackawanna Railway

Between Murray Hill and Hoboken

An hour and a half each way

Five days per week

For decades

 

Hustled to the PATH train

Aka the “Tubes”

Brisk walk down Wall Street

Elevator to the 18th floor

Plush carpets, windowed offices

Corporate America

 

Three young daughters

Middle child, me

Just shy of my 10th birthday

In February, 1973

 

Home ownership

Two car garage

Suburban bedroom community

On the right side of the tracks

Long way from The Great Depression

 

I found his Feb 73 Commuter Pass,

His bookmark,

In a home improvement book

He gave to me

You know…

One of a series

Tiling Floors?

Building Shelves?

No world wide web back then

Just manuals and books

Fathers teaching sons

 

His father,

Before his death,

Earned wages as a butcher

Bought drafting tools

Designed and built their home

On Park Place

Not like in Monopoly

But in the shadow of elevated tracks

Gifted mind

Gifted hands

 

Trains captured Dad’s imagination

Even as a child

Saved his life

After his father’s suicide

 

My father,

A little boy,

Found his way to the train yard

Befriended by other men

Engineers, conductors

Sat up front in the locomotives

No ticket to ride

Repressed in his grief

 

All aboard!

Get on

Get moving

Hurry

You can do it!!

 

Used his brain

3 jobs for tuition

Teachers’ college

Designed a life with my mother

MBA, CPA

Recruiters, NYC

Senior Vice President

Golden handcuffs

Before 911

Before The Great Recession

 

College educated 3 smart kids

Middle child, me

Moved to NYC

Finished growing up

Subways from Union Square to Wall Street

Internships and lunches

Dinners and plays with Dad

 

Fridays

Met in Hoboken

Saved seats

On the Erie Lackawanna Railroad

If broken windows opened

Hot summer breezes

Ragged wicker seats

Pulled panty hose

Wrinkled suits

An imperfect father teaching his daughter

An imperfect daughter teaching her father

 

Never blinked

When I fell in love

With my childhood sweetheart

An ambitious young musician

Captured my imagination

 

Middle child, me

Worried about money

A legacy of insecurity

But told by my father

Marriage is not a final destination

Can be an accelerator of individual dreams

Many tracks to take

Go get married

Go see the world

You've got a ticket to ride

On the express train of life

 

So we did

In February, 1989

Between world tours

And flights to distant places

 

When I landed

Stepped off my Type A career

Psychoanalysis had captured my imagination

Healed me

Healed my father

 

Found my calling

Became a therapist

Private practice

Home office

A 30 second commute

 

 2 daughters of our own

White picket fence

Short walk to the beach

Husband writing songs

Husband building shelves

Gifted minds

Gifted hands

      …………

 

Monday morning

February, 2019

 

6:58 train whistles toward the station

Architect daughter

Ticket on the phone app

Hops on the double-decker car

NJ Transit to Penn Station, NY

Designs a life of her own

Buildings now capture her imagination

               ~~

Clock tick-tocking

Gaze shifts to my reflection

Now blurry

Waterproof mascara cradling

Holy water in my eyes

 

But no time for tears

Almost late for work

Pull on my jeans

No more panty hose

Head downstairs

Time for other people’s tears

Other people’s imaginations

Renovating their lives

How fortunate am I?   

 

Before his death

Dad gave up commuting

Gave up home improvement

For walks around Washington Square Park

My old stomping grounds

 

Walked with me on the Boardwalk

Last stop, the Jersey Shore

A Grandpa and his daughter

At peace

An ordinary life

At last