Photo by Lucca Lazzarini

But I thought you said meet me at the Starbucks on such a such street; so there I was in an oversized palatial car, rented. They upgraded me. I thought it looked flashy like a pimp mobile. No thanks, I said, but that was the only choice.

So, my niece, niece in French with an accent over the e, waited for me…and I her…until both our cell phones, constantly busy trying to call each other, were blowing up.

And how about when I was at the Shubert Theater and not Joseph Papp’s, and I went in and bought my ticket while my best friend was seeing Shakespeare, and I A View from the Bridge.

And now I’m standing near the Tappan Zee bridge, no I mean Mario Cuomo bridge, and I’m looking at the architectural spindles separating shadows on the Hudson, and the clear blue of sky reminding me I wish I could call you and ask you to meet me for a rendezvous.

A vous, to you, and to you, and to you, and to me, and to the sad view of thinking about our year of COVID-19! Whose heart is not breaking?

I know. I get up every morning to open up my mind files and try to touch upon my gratitude list. I have numerous reasons to be grateful. I also know how to reframe, since I’ve been a shrink for 18 years, or should I say a stretch. I’m fully aware of RET: Rational Emotive Therapy. In other words, confront your feelings. Is there any basis in reality for that feeling? Can you refute it? And then there’s DBT: Dialectical Behavioral Therapy and finding the wise mind that sits in the center between logic and emotion. How about CBT: Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. Change the thought, and you will change how you feel.

SHIT. Okay, I will forget about immediate gratification. The angst, the fear, the loneliness (not every day but moments). Can they disappear in a nano second? They will disappear for those who exercise patience. It won’t be as easy as eating a piece of chocolate cake, but friends have said, “We will hang this summer on our decks.”

Summer – the sound is buzzing in my mind’s eye like a honeyed bumblebee. I’m wishing for a moment of mistaken places, like my texting either Alex, Debbie, or Karen with a I thought you said meet me at Ruben’s, the Mexican restaurant in Peekskill with music, while they are at the restaurant 12 Grapes.

Yes, I’m longing to hear the ping on my cell phone with the text, But I thought you said…Diddle diddle dee, diddle diddle dum.

But for now, I’m sitting in my kitchen dreaming about our rendezvous. Question: Are you?

Thea Schiller

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *