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| This time I approach the bed from the right side. He can see me much better. I tell him we must leave now but that Beryl has given us the Royal Welcome and I have paid my respects to Edith's pig. Looking down at the small body on the bed, I was reluctant to leave. "It is a beautiful day today you know- Beryl tells me soon you will be up in the chair and out into the park in time for daffodils," I manage to say to him. "Yes- that WILL be nice," he responds. What can one say in the last remaining seconds? The little photo of Mrs. Lord and Walter ondeck of the Olympic look down from the dresser. The clock ticks by the seconds. "Grace will be opening your cards a few each day- it will be like everyday is Valentine's Day next week." He smiles. I pick up my bag to leave. "Happy Valentine's Day," I manage to get out- "maybe I can come again in Spring- in the park." As I leaned down he said with some effort- "And to you too dear.." Looking puzzled- I leaned closer - "and Happy Valentine's Day to you too," he said. I had to leave quickly then as the heart was very full. Out in the foyer Beryl handed me my jacket, smiling all the while and chatting. I looked up at the two identical framed Titanic reverse- on -glass paintings on the wall in the livingroom- trying to remember - there may never be a next visit. "Where will it all go someday, Beryl," I ask- hoping not to sound rude. "Oh- it is all settled- that grand museum over in England," she says. I say goodbye to the portrait, enter the little elevator- I have been there only 32 minutes-it seems time has stood still. |
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| Beryl stands in the door until it closes- the last thing I see is the portrait of Walter as a boy, leaning against his mother 's knee. Out on the street I look back at the brick and stone building- little grotesques of animals' faces in the squares. Would I see it again? |
| The day had begun at Macy's- waiting under the memorial to Titanic's couple. Then I longed to see Ground Zero. Somehow it seemed a continuation of sentiments. There was the gaping hole like a missing tooth on the skyline of Manhattan- the Towers that were so well-built- that would last forever- invincible-like Titanic. The silence there is what I remember most- the man on the right was crying. There were still flowers and wreaths on the fence. A large flag is pinned to the building facing. Dust is everywhere - ashes to ashes- dust to dust I think. How frail we are- how vulnerable. I need to see Pier 54 again. |
| It feels like a day in May today. The pier is clean and free of the debris I remember from the last time. I look over to the many wooden pilings to the right. Another day in May came to mind- 1915- Rita Jolivet, Charlie Frohman-the beautiful Lusitania just here where I stand. "Why fear death," Charlie said"It is Life's most fascinating experience." Ghosts of Carpathia floated through my mind. I am glad the rusty old White Star-Cunard sign will stay. This place must not be forgotten-ever. |
| There were lighter moments in the day to be sure.... A trip around town, dinner at Joe Allen's- Lauren Bacall never showed up for dinner- but just thinking she may was good enough! Seeing the sights on Fifth Avenue, Greenwich Village, Central Park- all from the comfort of a car was lovely. Soon the sun set and it was time to go back to the station. After a few moments an announcement came over the speaker that a freight train had crashed into a pilon west of Newark and my train home would be delayed 5 1/2 hours. The station was pandemonium for hours. People sat on the floors and stairs. I watched the human melee for a long while- how people behave in a crisis. The homeless strewed themselves across the terminal- sleeping. At midnight, tired of crosswords, I rested a space as you can see. At one point we got on the wrong train- heading for Washington D.C. |
| Heading North at last,I pressed my face to the world flying by outside the window. There were just two of us in the darkened car. Silence, save for the steady thrum of the rails. I am exhausted but cannot sleep- all the lighted windows of a thousand houses twinkle by. My mind is on a single little white bed, growing ever further away. I hope he is sleeping well- and that tomorrow's sun will find his pillow again. Life matters very much. And the Beatles did get it right- all we need is love. I am holding out for Spring- and daffodils....... |
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