At any rate...with only 5 hours of rest and a slight triple-creme cheese and red wine hangover, I hopped in the little blue Jag on Thursday morning and headed across the
Tappan Zee Bridge and I-287 to 95, taking the coastal route north so that I could swing by the beloved alma mater for a little "meeting" (read: bullsh*t session) with my Boston BFF/Class of '81 bestie,
the famous TL. I had packed a plate of lemon bars that Suse had made for our Wednesday night girl-fest to present TL, and just before I pulled onto campus, I grabbed two iced lattes at the Easton, MA Dunkin' Donuts drive-thru (my standard "hostess" gift when visiting a friend at work, midday iced coffee -- always a big fat, refreshing hit...). So we sat in TL's office in the historically landmark-ish Stonehill "Big House," upon whose steps much naughty collegiate
behavior always ensues...even after graduation. And we caught up on all the chit chat and happenings and developments in the weeks since we had last shared a drink back in June in New York City, our other '81 bestie alongside us...though those were definitely not lattes we were pounding that night... And we sat together for an hour and a half, our lattes perched upon his fancy Stonehill College coasters...in the middle of a work day...the day before he left for a long weekend and in between meetings...and I thought to myself: there is nothing I love more than a friend whose busy day does not interfere with my slacking off...I can always count on TL for that. So, the weekend started out well...
I spent the next 24 hours with Jeanne and Bob, who
hosted me overnight and treated me to a fantastic dinner, lots of catching up and sorting out...and I saw some great old friends, the Orleans House Girls...the kind of friends with whom you always feel familiar, to whom you will always be bonded... But, it was an emotional day and a half, and I was ready to go home that Friday afternoon...ready to get back to my life...so I didn't even change out of my serious clothes, I just hopped in and drove out of Jeanne and Bob's driveway in the pouring, driving rain at 12:50 p.m....I plugged "Go Home" into my Garmin GPS and it predicted my arrival in Wyckoff to be 5:00 that evening. The roads were a little tight -- a Friday afternoon in the summer -- but I circumnavigated my way around Town to the Mass Pike. It started as a typical roadtrip with my bottle of water by my side and the 5-CD shuffle going, playing a mixed bag of classics and filling the Jag with Roy Orbison: "
One look from you, I drift away..." and Tracy Chapman: "
And your
arms felt nice wrapped round my shoulder/And I had a feeling that I belonged..." and CSN: "
This does not mean I don't love you/I do, that's forever/And for always..." and of course a little Backstreet Boys...we don't need a reminder of their a**-kicking lyrics to set the mood, though, do we??? Of course we do!..."
So many words for the broken heart/It's hard to see in a crimson love..." Yeah, I am unsure of exactly what that means...but it is heartbreaking sappy saccharine gold, no?
So anyway...I was there, singing along at the top of my lungs, and all was going smoothly...I was catching up on phone calls...checking in with Dana on the planned sleepover for our girls that night at my house....and I chatted with Gwen, giving her the low-down on my visit to Boston...and I even caught up with RJP, who is off at Notre Dame this summer working on his Masters. And traffic was crawling a little, lots of volume, like there was a Barry Manilow concert somewhere in the area or something...but eventually I made it to Connecticut, the Constitution State...
And that, my dear friends and beloveds, is where all hell broke the f$#@ loose...
It happened as I traveled on Route 91, heading towards the
Merritt Parkway and the promised land of NYC-metro...my GPS had already added an extra hour onto my estimated arrival time due to all that traffic, now predicting 6:06 p.m. But all
of a sudden it was Arma-f$%&ing-geddon...the sky was black...ink black...as if it were the middle of the night...it was somewhere around 3:45. And there was so much rain...this abrupt, heavy burst, like someone was standing on the roof of the little blue Jag pelting it with rocks....and I was cringeing and ducking at the sound, as if the raindrops were hard enough to penetrate the roof and knock me out, bloody me and make me spin out, splashing across the highway. And, even so...even as this is happening, there I was, steering my car onto the Merritt...that twisty little two-laned country road/state highway, cut through the woods of Connecticut like a narrow path to the Big City....and I knew that it was a mistake...I had this dread feeling...but I did it anyway.
Almost immediately the sky darkened further...and the rain intensified...and I turned off the music so I could concentrate, lowering my speed to 40 mph and sitting on the edge of the driver's seat, white-knuckling it...truly shaking with a deep fear....because....I could see nothing out my windshield...nothing, as if I were under water or in a white-out blizzard or that same someone who was pelting my roof with rocks a few miles back was now standing up there
drenching my windshield with a power hose. As I crawled along the road, I saw other vehicles pulling over with their hazards flashing, but I was too scared to stop, afraid I would be hit if I parked on the shoulder...too confused and wanting to get home. So even though I could not see a thing, I kept going... Finally I thought to put on
WCBS 880 for info and, god help me, there were alerts and bells ringing and earnest weather reporters telling me this:
A string of strong thunderstorms are blanketing the area, the most deadly and destructive of which are currently traveling across Connecticut, moving up Fairfield County to New Haven County...heavy rains, dangerous lightening, 70 mph winds expected and a tornado warning is in effect.
Now...I don't know if I have ever mentioned that I have a rather pronounced phobia of being caught in a tornado...I have been known to run frantically from the beach or the playground or my backyard, dragging my kids by the wrist, if I see the wind blow the leaves inside out....Perhaps it was brought on by an early viewing of Wizard of Oz...or maybe I died in a twister in a former life...am not sure... Whatever the cause...twisters have been starring in my nightmares since I was a child (vampires too, by the way...thank god the weatherman didn't mention any of those in his report....). So anyway...I think you can forgive me for my reaction to the realization that a tornado was quite possibly on its way, and I was most certainly driving right into the center of the bullseye....
Jesus, Mary, Joseph and all the saints...I am f&%$ed!!!
And then I saw the cloud to ground lightening bolts all angry and reckless strike the road in front of me...and a crash of thunder so damn loud it made me think I had been rear-ended. I winced and then I started to bawl like a baby...with all my heart pouring out and my kids faces flashing before me. And out came those
prayers I say during take-off every single time I am on a plane...Please Jesus, watch over me....please.... Still shaking I took notice of the giant branches arching over me, so threatening as I pass under in this little blue Jag...I was certain I was going to be crushed by one of them...so I chastised myself -- why the hell did I leave the Volvo home? That tank would keep me safe, I thought... I am telling you, it felt like somehow I got caught in the movie
Poltergeist (WHAT'S HAPPENING????????)...some pissed off evil force taking hold...the trees and the ground and the entire world surrounding me trying to suck me up and eat me alive. And I know I am prone to drama and all, but I am not exaggerating in the least...
I was really frightened...this was no bullsh*t. I thought I might
die...whether it was irrational or
not, who can say...either way, I believed it. And in my fear I thought back to the last few days...how I got to spend time with my old friends and people I love...how I had scarfed that extra delicious supreme brie and laughed my a** off with the girls...and shared a la
tte with TL...and most of all, how I had written that post about Will last week, and I thought it would be fitting should I not make it home...my son would know that I loved him so very much and all of you would remember me that way. But I didn't want to miss out on his birthday...it was the next day, and I had promised him that I would never miss it...never. I wanted so much to keep that promise. But for the first time ever in my life, I was truly unsure that I would be able to keep my promises to my kids.
And I know promises are kind of BS...you know, we never can say for sure that we can keep them anyway, right? Because things change...people and feelings change...love changes....and so does life.
But then, the mayhem ended...a few miles down, the rain
seemed to lighten slightly...and the highway all of a sudden was in a dead stand still. And there I sat...WCBS not explaining what the hold up was until I was there, sitting on the Merritt for 45 minutes, terrorized and terrified that the storm would find its fury again (of course, I was thinking of all of you...and grabbed my camera so I could document the rest of this trip...kind of like a blogger
Blair Witch Project...). Soon I learned that only two exits hence, two trees had uprooted in the storm and fallen across the parkway...and the road was now closed in both directions. Well...at least I was not trapped underneath one of those trees, so that was a minor victory... So inch-by-inch down the Merritt, I was re-routed and diverted and stuck in some Connecticut tow
n called Orange...and my GPS had added another hour to my estimated arrival time. And I called Rob and he told me not to worry, that he was with our children and if I needed to go stay in a hotel and sleep and chill out and come home in the morning, that they would understand. But I wanted to see the kids...I wanted to wake up with Will on his sixth birthday. So even though the rain was still driving and p*ssing down on me...I grabbed that GPS, plugged an alternate route into the "Where To?" function and ended up on Route 95 South...that same coastal route that took me to New England in the first place.
And I was jittery and weepy most of the way, but I made it
to New York...and as I crossed the border it was like the end of the Poltergeist movie, when they have little Carol Ann back and all is calm and lovely even though she is covered in that plasma grossness...and the TV and the pool and the tree and the rain and that freaky clown are no longer terrorizing them, trying to swallow them up whole. Instead, as I merged onto Route 287 there was this break in the clouds and this brilliant yellow sun was streaming through those clouds...like, forgive me for being such a complete cheeseball and over the
top, but it was like God and my angels and everyone who has ever loved me was sending me their good vibes...welcoming me back to the safe serene little fold. For the first time in hours, I knew for certain I would make it home.
A sigh of relief....I hit the FM button on the radio, I wanted no more of that WCBS scare tactic radio...and I was greeted by
Friday Night '80's on
103.9 WFAS (Westchester's Best Music Variety!). And it was like the perfect medicine...with a succession of amazing '80's guilty pleasures coming over the airwaves my mood lifted and I began to sing again...for the first time since I had crossed the state line from Massachusetts to Connecticut. First it was Survivor with
High On You...("
Such complete intoxication, I'm high on you!")...and then we got the Phil Collins break-up classic,
Against All Odds, which almost had me crying again...followed by another break-up classic, Journey with
Separate Ways ...and who doesn't love a little Power Station with
Some Like It Hot...(Feel the heat!)...and
then Tina Turner telling some SOB off with
Better Be Good to Me...("
Cause I don't have the time for your overloaded lines...")...but, the tune that brought me back from the depths, the ultra-cheesy and lame
Make Me Lose Control by puffy hair-sprayed '80's relic Eric Carmen...("
When I look in your eyes, I go crazy/Fever's high with the lights down low..."). I think back to '88, possibly the last time I heard that song, when this sappy and fakely-retro tune made me think of my high school beau...how god-awful and stupid the song was...but hearing it made my g*ddamn night. It felt so good...
I arrived home at 8:15 p.m....a full 7 hours and 25 minutes after I pulled out of Jeanne and Bob's driveway, 3 hours and 15 minutes behind schedule. I had not stepped out of the car in all that time...and I was kind of a mess, makeup streaked, hair all askew, dark circles under my eyes and frazzled n
erves...still wearing my black dress from that morning. And I praised Jesus, Mary, Joseph and all the saints...and I threw in Buddha and Vishnu and my angels and guides and loved ones...whoever it was that brought me back here... I busted in that door and the kids were sitting around the kitchen table, hysterically laughing and making birthday cards for Will. And they ran to me and we hugged and I had Rob take a picture...and they had no idea how draining my day had been, that I wasn't sure I would make it back...so they had no idea how much their hugs and juicy kisses meant at this point...and even though seconds later they were back at the table teasing one another and laughing, ignoring me completely....it was amazing and fun and delicious....the best greeting ever....
The next morning was Will's birthday...I made these scrumptious and gooey chocolate chip pancakes with sticky maple-glazed bacon and he opened his gifts...and in his excitement and thanks he told me again and again in his innocent words of wisdom the same thing I always mean to say with all my heart...because I appreciate what you all mean to me...and that you are the kind of friends who don't let your busy day interfere with my slacking off...so I don't want to waste anymore time...
I love you eight-thousand, nine hundred, infinity and a google....
xoxo...S
PS Always in my heart, Heidi....
