The highlight of my week working in homecare has to be on Thursday afternoons when this Senegalese nanny I work with yells at the cat (in very aggressive French) to stay away from me and out of the room I am working in. If I ever really feel like someone in this life has my back, it’s when I am with this woman. (Although my theory is that the cat drives her nuts and she can’t wait until allergic-me shows up every week just so she has an excuse to yell at him. But still…). She also always asks me if I need to use the bathroom before she starts to give the kids a bath as I am getting ready to leave. It’s extremely thoughtful. And she says THANK YOU, GOD! to me in English every time I return to work after being sick. As if I had some terminal disease and she is extremely grateful that I survived.
HAVE GOOD WEEKEND (you too!) and DO YOU NEED BATHROOM (yes, please!) is the extent of our conversations on most days. We only speak a few words in the same language. Last summer she took an extended vacation and returned from her home country with something beautiful and handmade for me. I was floored. And then touched. When I showed it off to a friend with great excitement he asked what it was and I didn’t know. I was embarrassed to ask. Whatever it is I love it and will keep it forever.
People like her are one step away from Friends of Friends. Something like People you See Regularly and Adore but Don’t Really Know Them at All. Like the doorman who gestures towards the elevator while he is still calling up so I can get a head start and avoid being late every Wednesday afternoon. Or the lady in the tea shop who stopped by the grocery on her way to work to pick up lemons herself one morning after I asked for an “Earl Grey with lemon” three Tuesdays in a row. (I kept forgetting that that chain doesn’t stock lemons). Or like the senior who drinks coffee on the bench outside the cafe that used to tell me every morning that he loved me when I walked by to go to the train. Well, that’s a morale booster! He says it to a lot of people, but still, it’s always nice to hear. The sassy usher at City Center with the fantastic bun who I now recognize after so many years of Fall for Dance. The guys that work at the laundromat that used to save my favorite laundry cart for me on Saturday mornings.
It’s impossible to feel lonely in this city.
Would any of these people show up at my funeral? No. But who needs that when they show up in my life every day.
When you move or your routine changes, you miss these people. But you might not know them enough to have said good-bye. My schedule will change this summer and I won’t have that 15″ on Tuesday morning to stop for tea anymore. I will stop coming in to ask for lemon. Maybe the lady will notice and say “that girl doesn’t come in for her lemon anymore.” Or maybe she won’t. Maybe in July I will have a day off and go up for a cup of tea and she will say “OH! How have you been? It’s been a while.” Maybe she won’t work there anymore. Maybe she will have gone back to school to be an accountant or is home taking care of her mother. Maybe she will never think of me again. But I will never forget the lemon. Nor will I forget the I LOVE YOU! Or the mysterious gift from Senegal. Or the unusually enthusiastic conductor on the A train who exclaims, every Monday morning, “Welcome back from the weekend!” I have never even seen his face.
Last year, my Thursday afternoon client got confused about when the nanny was supposed to be returning from her visit home. We were all worried for several days when she didn’t come back to work when expected and before we realized it was just a misunderstanding of dates. When she appeared the following week all I could think was THANK YOU, GOD!
I realize this is the grown-up version of Sesame Street’s “Who are the People in your Neighborhood” sketches. Enjoy that earworm.