Public Private News

I sat at the gate in an airport listening to my dad explain to me what “hospice” is.  As I realized what it meant for my grandmother, tears began their slow slide down my cheeks, pooling in the crevice above my lip.  My nose closed up, my face got hot and my throat suddenly felt like I had a cold.  Halting speech and a spasm-ing chest.  My seat was in a circle of other seats, and six other people sat in it too.

I noticed their careful not-noticing of my grief.  It might be a testament to the disconnection of the human experience, the fragmentation of society that these strangers appeared unmoved by my turmoil.  Or perhaps it was a moment displaying the sympathetic kindness of strangers, attempting to give me the dignity of privacy in a very public place.

I don’t know which.  I guess I get to choose how I see it, and I don’t think it matters what was actually going on in each of us.

Advertisements
Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Post navigation

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

%d bloggers like this: