6 Minutes Wrestling with Life

The Look

Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot,
Nothing is going to get better.
It's not.

Dr. Seuss
The Lorax

November 28th, 2009

It is less than twelve hours since I vaguely remember saying goodbye to my father.

I am now arriving back in Haverstraw where I am on my way to spend the day with Jess.

My mind makes a mental note that I forgot to thank Patti, a good friend, who stayed with Jess so BettyJane and I could say goodbye to my father together.

Before I head out to Helen Hayes, I want to go down the road and get a cup of coffee at Dunkin Donuts.

I am running late.

I know the round trip will probably take 15 minutes, factoring in the traffic, the line at Dunkin Donuts and needing to finish drinking the coffee before I enter Jess's room, which will all definitely make me later.

I decide to go anyway.

I get in my car and head to Dunkin Donuts. The one-mile trip takes less than three minutes. There is no traffic.

I get out of my car and enter the store.

It is empty.

It is 6:55 a.m. and there is not a soul in Dunkin Donuts getting coffee.

Life is different in Haverstraw.

Back downstate, if I entered a Dunkin Donuts at 6:55 a.m., and it was empty, I would immediately vacate the premises, fearing there were hostages being held in the back room somewhere.

There is one person working in the store, a vibrant thirty-something year old young lady who immediately greets me with, "Hi, my name is Wanda, isn't today a great day?"

I nod, as small talk, by my nature, does not come naturally to me.

"You're not from around here, are you?" she says with confidence.

"No, I am not," I respond, still not opening up.

There is some silence – I fear I have hurt her feelings with my short answers. I ask her, out of guilt, "How did you know that?"

She smiles, which makes it seem like I caught on to the fact that whether I like it or not, we were going to have a conversation before I got any service.

"You're a HHH person," she says as if she is putting the pieces together as she is saying this.

"I'm a what?"

"A HHH person – A Helen Hayes on the Hill person," she answers, cueing me in on the meaning of her acronym.

"You have a loved one at Helen Hayes, right?" she asks me for confirmation.

"Who is it?" she asks as if it really means something to her.

"It is my daughter," I say choked up.

"What is her name?" Wanda asks.

"Her name is Jessica," I proudly say.

"What a beautiful name. You do know what Jessica means, don't you?"

My first thought is "Who is this girl?" which I silently ask myself.

My second thought, which I vocalize, is "No, I really don't know what it means."

"It means, 'She knows', she says.

"She knows," she says again.

"How did you know I was a HHH person?" I ask, now opening up.

"You have the look," Wanda enlightens me. "You see, I had the same look a few years back when my brother was at Helen Hayes after a motorcycle accident."

There is a brief silence and then Wanda says to me "It hurts, doesn't it?"

My chin quivers and I hurry to say "Yes it does," before I have to step away to hide my tears.

I fear to know how her brother is doing now; since she didn't offer, I do not ask.

"Remember – she knows," she says again.

"Thank you," I say.

I take my coffee, and drive back to HHH. The round trip wound up taking 15 minutes, but for much better reasons than traffic and crowds.

I walk into the lobby at Helen Hayes, and even though I am running late, I make a detour to the gift shop in the lobby; some pajamas with a motivational saying on them catch my eye in the window.

I head to the back of the store to find the unique pajamas, instead I find a pregnant woman, visibly upset, with the look.

"Hi, my name is John," I say totally against my nature.

"Are you OK?"

"Hi John, my name is Bridgett and I'm not OK, but thank you for asking."

Silence fills the air.

"What loved one do you have here?" I ask.

"My husband. How about you?"

"My daughter," I respond.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" I vulnerably share.

"Yes it does," Bridgett says. "But it hurts less now." Bridgett smiles.

We both leave the back of the store and head our separate ways.

I wind up not getting the motivational pajamas I saw in the window and I head up to Jess's community room.

I am sitting bedside with Jess, holding her hand, when Bridgett walks into the room.

She sits down next to her husband. She moves his hand and places it on her lap.

After a few moments, Bridgett picks up her head, she sees me across the room and recognizes me from the gift shop.

She then smiles and silently mouths "Thank You."

Bridgett has a new look.