(Written September 1, 2014)
Friday, Frank came home from work exhausted. It’s not easy keeping up the same pace, while your body is trying to heal. Thankfully he is taking the train. (He is not allowed to drive with a neck brace on – as well, his broken wrist and a stick shift do not play well together.)
“I fell asleep on the train again. Almost missed my stop. I guess the people on the train have gotten to recognize me (uh, ya think?) and somebody woke me up.”
A complete stranger shook him, “Isn’t this your stop?”
“I would have ended up in Port Washington…” Okay, that would have sucked. As it is he keeps missing the train to East Rockaway and ends up in Rockville Centre. Not bad, except for the stairs. (He claims he is fine climbing all those steps… I am concerned about him getting knocked around during commuter rush.)
Once again I am finding myself hysterical – envisioning Frank sitting on the train, sleeping, in his neck gear – like some glorified kick-stand holding his noggin up. It strikes me so funny that he triggers such empathy from people. It has become natural for him to be monitored or watched out for by complete strangers – and YES, it happens often. (I attribute this to his Triple-L factor…) His father has this gift as well. Must be a hereditary thing.... Whatever the case, Frank has been making it home every night. Safe. So far….