In the Bones

Six years after my father died
My mother was still wearing black

She wanted people to know
She was in mourning

She wanted to make that clear

Six months after Ted died
I wore my favorite red dress to a bar
And picked a man
Who looked nothing like Ted

I fragmented
I know that now
I split into so many parts

The grieving
The struggling
The surviving
The living
The dead

They say grieving is a process
But so often
It comes upon you all at once
All facets of it
Turning you around
To face parts of yourself
You didn't even know existed

My mother wore black
To signify her grieving
Because she felt...

I suppose she worried
That people would notice
How happy she was
That my father was dead

He was a very cruel man
And when he died
She mourned him only out of tradition

When Ted died
I didn't need a physical manifestation of my grieving
To signal to people
How painful it was

If anything, I needed to show people
That I was all right
That I could carry on

I didn't want anyone worrying about me
So I put on red dresses
And went to bars
Drank
Smoked
Flirted with men
And people saw this
People who knew me
And they called it 'healthy'

Even the people who knew Ted
Who knew me
Who knew I was well past the age
When it's attractive for a woman
To be kissing a strange man on a dance floor
Even with Sam Cooke blessing the whole thing
Everyone who saw me was just so relieved
That I wasn't falling apart

Nobody imagines that you can fall in
That you can fall inside yourself
Where the grief hides
And have it hold you hostage

I only wore black once
But when it was back in the closet
Tucked away where we used to keep the kids' Christmas presents
I still felt it
It wasn't something
I could take off

It was in my bones
Under my skin
Behind my eyes
Growing out of me

Like the tears
Like the sobs
Like the muscles in my body
Weak from shaking with disbelief

I took a man home from a bar
Because he was wearing my husband's cologne
And I wanted to fall asleep
With that smell wrapped around me

I wanted to wake up to it
It didn't matter to me
That the man
Left in the middle of the night
Without so much as a kiss on my neck

All that mattered was that I woke up
With the scent of my husband
On the pillow
For the first time in...

Quite awhile

By then the drinking had already gotten out of hand
And I felt myself being compelled to try stronger distractions
Things that would keep me numb
For longer periods of time

Someone should have noticed
But I wasn't missing work
And I wasn't snapping at anyone
And I wasn't losing a drastic amount of weight
So...

...Well I don't want to say nobody cared
But 'Nobody felt like they had the time to care'
Is, I think, a fair statement

Besides, it would have had to be a hunch
A speculation
There was no physical evidence
Of what was happening inside me

It was chemical
Transformational
How could it not be?

I had lost a part of myself
My body, my mind
It was making up for it
It was creating something new
To go where the old me had been

Maybe that isn't the most progressive statement
But it's true

I lost Ted
And suddenly being the person I was
When he was alive
Was no longer an option

A good wife
A good mother
An overall stable person

None of that made sense to me anymore

And so I had to start from scratch

My language changed
My reactions to things
How I saw colors
And shapes
I'm not exaggerating
This is all fact

A sign near my house over a store
Suddenly became neon red
Instead of light blue

And the 'e' went out, or at least
I thought it did
And nobody ever bothered to fix it

Nobody seemed to care about
How bad it looked

The things people don't notice...

And all the while
I was re-forming
Transitioning myself

Everyone thought Ted was gone
But I was gone too
We went together
How else could it be?

How else could it possibly be?

The only thing I took with me were my bones
And even they were saturated
With this past burden
This heavy bitterness
That lingered
Like salt on the tongue

The grief still hung on
In the bones
And that was something
No strange men
Or blue pills
Or red dresses could fix

It was determined to never leave me

And I didn't try to banish it
Because it felt like...

Like the only real part of Ted
That I had left

The only part that felt strong enough
Agonizing, but full, intensely full

So I let it stay
Resting there
Inside my structure

But I carried on as someone else

A lesser someone?

Maybe

But still strong

Still made up
Of unbreakable things

The Hollow Places

I don't know what to say about him
Just that he fills up all the hollow places

You know, you get married
I've been married
Did I tell you that?

Once or twice
Depending on who you ask

The second wedding was sort of hush hush
I thought, Okay, let's see where this goes
Turns out it didn't go anywhere

I don't blame myself for that
I don't blame him either
I sort of...closed myself off
But I didn't know I was doing it

I went around feeling so fine, you know?

That's the dangerous spot to be in
To think you're fine
When you're really a big mess

I kept getting into arguments with people
Snapping at them
Always in everybody's face
And I thought--Well, this is confident me
This is the me I'm supposed to be
This no-nonsense, take-no-bullshit bitch
Who just says and does
Whatever she wants

Finally, I'm tough

Then I meet him
And I feel...vulnerable

Although that's a fancy word for it
It's really just that I'm soft

All of a sudden, I'm soft again
Like I'm a kid
And it's...scary

I'm suddenly aware
Of all these places inside myself
That I let get emptied out

Like a house that was once beautifully furnished
Suddenly I'm looking around and realizing
That I moved out, checked out
A long time ago

It's like I was sitting in an empty room
On the floor, uncomfortable
Thinking it was cozy or something
And then he came along and...

Suddenly there's a chair
There's a place for me to sit
I belong somewhere
Nothing's...hollow

I feel all this space filling up
With, like, a future for myself
Possibilities

That's what he did
He took the hollow places

And made them a home

Impressive, right?

Yeah...

I thought so too

We Didn't Hide Them

Now, when they write
They write about the hidden
Or the people who facilitated the hiding

They do not write about us
We are not worthy of being written about

Even though we also survived
Even though things were not easy for us
Even though our lives were also in danger
Just for existing in such a place
At such a time

All because we were not heroes
We were not valiant or bold

I can only speak for myself
And say that I am not ashamed
We didn't hide them

I was the father, the patriarch
I was in charge
And I had a family, my family
To think about
To consider

I don't need books written about how I kept my family safe
And I don't need books written about how I did or didn't keep other families safe

It's so easy to judge
From fifty, sixty, seventy years on
About what some of us didn't do

But what you are talking about is not mere courage
The ability to risk everything for people who are not your responsibility
Total strangers in some cases

And though I applaud those who were bold
Who did step into the line of fire
For those innocents, and yes, I do know they were innocent
Who is responsible for asking these same people
These people who took on the burdens of others
Who will ask these people--
Weren't you worried about your own flock?
Your own blood?

Did you not consider
Really consider
What would have happened
If you'd been caught?

What they would have done to your wives?
Your children?

And all for what?

Goodness?

What is good?

I don't--I...

. . . . . .

I am one of the ones
Who should have been hiding

But my wife...
She is not

So our children
Are not

But I...

And I've never looked--
Never resembled

I look like my father
Who was Scandanavian
Very fine features
Nobody's ever asked if I was...

So when they knocked on the door
One day
Our neighbors
This family
I...

They'd been over
They knew we had a room
A room behind our kitchen
Hard to see
Especially if you were to put a cupboard in front of the door
No windows in there
So...

They were so scared
But my daughter
She was...

She was one then, one and a half
And she was crying
In the background
I could hear her crying
And this family standing in front of me
And my wife at the market
My wife who was good
Who would have hid these people
Without a second thought
People who I shared a...

And who she didn't, really
Share anything
With

But she would have hid them
She would have done it
In a second

Ushered them in
And not thought anything of it

But I couldn't

Because...

Because if I opened the door one day
And the police were on the other side
Would they look at me
And know?

Would they recognize?

Nobody ever did
But would they?

How could I know?

What if these people brought danger
To my house?

It was dangerous

I...

. . . . .

I shut the door

And that was that

My daughter stopped crying
My wife came home
Made dinner
We chatted about...nothing

And I never saw that family again

Those people
My neighbors
They just...

Never came back

. . . . .

I am not brave
I am not bold
But am I good?

Can I be a coward
And still be a good person?

Can I take care of my family
Of my own
And not my brother
Not be his keeper
And still be pious?

Still be...right?

Can I?

Somebody tell me

Somebody tell me now that I've shown my face
Now that I've come out of hiding
And spoken my truth

Tell me now that you can see me
Just who it is
I am

I Don't Have Three Years

Look, I appreciate that you are a guarded person
I love guarded people
Somehow I always wind up marrying them
So things are looking good for you
Trust me, very good
Because I'm good
I'm good for people
I'm terrible for myself
But for others, I'm a win
A full-on win--trust me

But here's the thing--

I don't have three years

See, I know your timeline
I know the general chronological span
What it takes to break someone like you down
And I know, just by looking at you
That what I'm really looking at
Is three years--at least
Before I get to the core of who you are

And I don't have it
I don't have three years

I want to have kids
I want to have more than three kids
Less than five--maybe
But more than three
I invested in college
Some whatever stocks
And I did well
So I can afford kids
Not that I need to justify myself to you
But there it is

I want kids
And I want them soon
And I'd like to have at least two of them myself
And that means I have to get moving
And unfortunately, as I've mentioned
I tend to pick the guys
That want to keep me waiting

And I can respect everyone's, you know
Personal boundaries and limitations

But the thing is
Time's running out
And we both know
That even the deepest guys
Have a shortcut button
That they can push when they need to
In cases of emergency
Like when they want to get in the pants
Of some dumb girl at the bar

Well, guess what
Tonight--I'm the dumb girl
So take down the walls

Just long enough for me to see that it's worth
Investing you
And then we can take it from there

Okay?

I'll put in the three years
But first show me what I'm putting in for
Give me a glimpse
Because if at the end of this
I find out
That I was barking up the wrong tree
Then I'm not just out of luck

I'm out of time

That One Light On

I went up to the thirtieth floor
To investigate that one light on

No matter what time of night or early morning
No matter what building you pick out from a skyline
There's always at least one light on
In an otherwise dark building

It's always nagged at me
That one light
The way a picture hangs
Slightly crooked
On an otherwise perfect wall

I found the building I was looking for
On a cool October night
And walked right into the lobby
Where a security guard
Was waiting for me
With his arms folded

'If you're here about the light,' he says
'It's on the thirtieth floor'

Clearly, he'd been waiting for someone like me
For a very long time

I took the elevator up to the thirtieth floor
Expecting to find an exhausted man
In a white button-down shirt
And a pale red tie
Hanging loosely from around his neck
Hunched over a desk, working diligently on the Ponski account

Instead, the doors opened on a mostly bare room
With a deep red carpet
And two armchairs

In one armchair sat a man in a robe
That matched the carpet
Holding a snifter of something
And motioning for me to come forward
And sit with him in the other armchair

When I did
He explained to me
That it was his job
To watch over the city
From high atop this otherwise unremarkable office building

And what do you do if nothing happens, I ask?
--Something always happens
And what do you do when something happens, I ask?
Nothing, he says, it's not my job to do anything
It's just my job to watch

'A building with a light on signifies hope
It says that no matter what time is it or what day
There's always somebody up, awake, alive
Figuring out the problems of the world'

I shook hands with the man
And made my way back down the elevator
Past the security guard
And out into the city

When I got home
I made myself dinner
Even though it was nearly 3am
And I found that even though I had laughed to myself
When the man in the armchair
Talked about a light in an office building
Symbolizing that tired old idea of hope
I did sleep soundly that night

Moreso than I had in quite some time

A Courtyard in Florence

I don't even know his last name!

He's sitting outside on a bench
And I thought--Oh thank God
Somebody speaks English
Because he had a Yale sweatshirt on
And so I walk over and say 'Hi, I'm an American
But I went to Brown'

And he says something in Italian
And so I point to his sweatshirt and say--

'Yale?  America?  Yes?'

And he nods and then holds up his hands
Like, sort of--'No clue'

Then he holds up what he's drinking as if to say--

'You too?'

And I thought, Why not?

So I sat down

And we started, well not really talking
It was more like we were playing a flirtier version of charades

And that's how I ended up sleeping with someone
That didn't speak English

I'm not even sure he was Italian
What he was speaking sounded Italian
But for all I know
It could have been Russian

I didn't care
I didn't care about anything
It was Italy
What was there to care about?

And of course, Maggie flips out
And says--He could have been a serial killer!
He could have gotten that sweatshirt
From some poor Yale girl
That he massacred in his Volkswagen!

(Maggie thinks all serial killers drive Volkswagens
Because she watched Zodiac
And now she thinks she's an expert)

I said, 'Maggie, if we're going to be twins
--And we don't really have a choice--
Then it doesn't make any sense
For both of us to be the conservative one

There needs to be a better sense of balance'

And she sort of harrumphed
And left the hotel room
To go check out
Yet another museum

And I went down to the courtyard
And remembered the way that man said 'beautiful'
It seemed to be the only English word he knew
And he used it on me

'Beautiful'

He spread that word all over me
Like aloe, and it...

It healed something

Something I didn't know needed healing

Suddenly I was a woman
My own woman
And not somebody's twin sister
Indistinguishable from this other person
Stuck to her, really
I mean, if I'm being honest
Stuck to her

My mother used to call us conjoined
Because that's what we were
Inseparable

So maybe I did something stupid
Just to separate myself
To cut myself free

I don't know

I just know that Maggie isn't beautiful
She's not
It's just...she's not

And so I thought that meant
I couldn't be beautiful either

So when that man said--'beautiful'
I thought--it's possible

It's possible
For things
For us
To be

Different

Cheek to Cheek

This is the last song we'll hear
Before leaving

A little dance around the room
Smile at the ambassador
Smile at the businessmen
Smile at all the pretty ladies
In all the pretty dresses

Fantastic party
And all going until morning
Until sunrise, probably

And by then we'll be on the ocean
Already starving
Already half-dead
Already wondering why we said 'Yes'

Because we have been suppressed
And no amount of luxury
Can take away the remembrance
Of what it is to be hungry

These people are not our friends
And tomorrow, when we give all this up
No matter how mad it seems
It'll be us embracing our true calling

You know, when Matt died
I thought we'd be broken forever
But then James showed up at the door one day
Holding a book
Filled with love
And I knew right then that my life would have two paths
Him and yours, my husband's
And all I wanted was for those two paths to meet
To converge, and intersect
And become one

And they have

So what else could I possibly want?

He told us to give it all to him
So he could do good with it
So he could do more with it
Than we could ever hope to do
And he will, my darling
He will be unstoppable
And with what?

Just a little money?
From us?
Our little savings?

Aren't we lucky?

Aren't we lucky that we're able to do so much good
Just by signing a few documents
And then disappearing into the night
On a boat, into the sea

I never thought I'd know the glory of death
Especially not after Matt was killed in the war
And death only meant more darkness, more nothingness

Now I look forward to it
And to helping James
And knowing that there isn't going to be any mystery

No surprises

When I die you'll be right there with me
Holding my hand
Cheek to cheek

One more dance, my love

One more dance
Until it's time
To see our baby again

Look at all of them
Looking at us
Because of how happy we are

If they only knew, my darling
If they only knew how easy
It's going to be