The drive back was incredibly sad, and it wasn't just because of the horrific traffic.
It was sad leaving my folks. As trying as the past three weeks had been, it was actually great being able to spend that much time with them. And a little frightening. While I obviously knew my parents had aged, I never really thought of them as "old". In phone calls and brief visits home, they always seemed so spry and together and I never really allowed myself to think that they're in the twilight of their lives. But spending all this time with them, with the faded memories and moments of confusion, not to mention the health crisis, really opened my eyes. My mother suddenly looked so fragile yesterday I almost decided to stay.
And it's sad returning to a life of panic. For three weeks I was able to put my frantic life of unemployment on pause. And for three weeks I was actually able to feel useful for a change. But today we hit the play button again and another morning of panhandling for work.
And of course, as always, it was sad returning to Bakersfield, the town everyone loves to hate.
Before I left yesterday, I went out to lunch with my folks at their favorite local coffee shop. And as always, seated alone at the counter, was my second grade teacher, Miss Lee. She has to be in her late 80's, although you'd never know it. Still wearing the same butch, bowl cut she's worn since the Nixon Administration when I was in her class. She never married or had kids, and the speculation she was a lesbian just went unsaid.
She invited herself over and sat at our table, but nobody minded. She's always such a hoot and she and my father always seem to have such a good time. The fact that she always tells me I was one of her favorite students doesn't hurt. She probably says that to everyone, but these days I'll take what I can get.
We enjoyed our lunch together and it seemed to brighten my mom's mood. She was obviously a little down at the the thought of me leaving. When I mentioned that to Miss Lee, her face fell into a scowl.
"Back to Bakersfield, huh?"
I nodded, embarrassed. I felt like I was headed back to prison.
"I honestly don't know why you live there. Surely there has to be something somewhere else? You were always such a smart boy, you'll figure it out."
I hope she's right. She always was.
