Writing prompt: "The train was crowded..."
I've been in crowded trains before, most notably during the strike in 1979. Ko Man Singh, our driver, had to physically lift my mother and me through the crowds onto the train in Lucknow so that I could get to school on time. Since then I've tried not to think what it was like for my mother coming back alone.
But right now, my brain is crowded, with pain. My whole body aches like the flu, because our cat Furrgus died. Sweet memories of how happy he was to be let outside and the knowledge of how inevitable it was that he would get run over because he was deaf jostle and shout in my head. How he was so ravenous when he came to us as a tiny kitten rescued off the city streets, how he flopped down on the ground whenever we pet him, how he liked to help everyone with our projects whatever they involved (home improvement, lesson prep, sorting the mail), and how much laughter he brought to our family with his silly, relaxed personality, so much in contrast to Stella's high-maintenance mode. They finally figured out how to play off of each other without squabbling.
It all happened so fast, and now he's gone, leaving this painful ache. We all agreed how it was better this way than any other way--instantaneous death, no half-dead questions to answer. But it still hurts so incredibly.
And on top of that, the month of May had already been crowded. A couple days before Furrgus, I finally had to surrender and replace my 5-year-old "dumb phone" with a "smart phone" ('not sure who's really smart). We all did a lot of traveling and packing, what with graduation in Boston and end of the year in Minnesota, visiting Grampi in between. My office moved from 30 years of renting space into our own new building. We spent two entire weekends at church for special events, with no day off. I started a new term teaching English at Wilmington University (grammar and writing: my favorite!), and also started and finished my own training for online teaching. ...All good things, just, there's only so many good things you can pack into one mental month.
I end with gratitude: thanks to be traveling on this crowded train, even though it's a bit uncomfortable at times.
Because that's the only way to go that makes any sense.
I've been in crowded trains before, most notably during the strike in 1979. Ko Man Singh, our driver, had to physically lift my mother and me through the crowds onto the train in Lucknow so that I could get to school on time. Since then I've tried not to think what it was like for my mother coming back alone.
But right now, my brain is crowded, with pain. My whole body aches like the flu, because our cat Furrgus died. Sweet memories of how happy he was to be let outside and the knowledge of how inevitable it was that he would get run over because he was deaf jostle and shout in my head. How he was so ravenous when he came to us as a tiny kitten rescued off the city streets, how he flopped down on the ground whenever we pet him, how he liked to help everyone with our projects whatever they involved (home improvement, lesson prep, sorting the mail), and how much laughter he brought to our family with his silly, relaxed personality, so much in contrast to Stella's high-maintenance mode. They finally figured out how to play off of each other without squabbling.
It all happened so fast, and now he's gone, leaving this painful ache. We all agreed how it was better this way than any other way--instantaneous death, no half-dead questions to answer. But it still hurts so incredibly.
And on top of that, the month of May had already been crowded. A couple days before Furrgus, I finally had to surrender and replace my 5-year-old "dumb phone" with a "smart phone" ('not sure who's really smart). We all did a lot of traveling and packing, what with graduation in Boston and end of the year in Minnesota, visiting Grampi in between. My office moved from 30 years of renting space into our own new building. We spent two entire weekends at church for special events, with no day off. I started a new term teaching English at Wilmington University (grammar and writing: my favorite!), and also started and finished my own training for online teaching. ...All good things, just, there's only so many good things you can pack into one mental month.
I end with gratitude: thanks to be traveling on this crowded train, even though it's a bit uncomfortable at times.
Because that's the only way to go that makes any sense.
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