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Hand to mouth

July 18, 2011

Giddy with the free afternoon and its possibilities that did not include sex but window shopping, eating, drinking coffee and walking the dog with my husband in the town where we fell in love under the abundant sunshine and clear blue skies of Provincetown. The kiddlets off with Grammy and Pappy to ride Art’s Dune Tour and then a whispered promise of stopping by the Penny Patch after meant that we would have about 3 full hours of daylight child free time. The dog hitched to his MacGuyvered leash since we can’t find ours and cute clothes and lipglossed lips pursed toward the sun we head off down the narrow sidewalks brushing past thorny roses, overgrown lavender and tall white daisies. The East End of town is more quiet and older and the houses close together most with small yards. The weather has been completely perfect, hot, sunny and clear deep blue cape sky our whole trip and as the salty wind whips my hair into my mouth we step aside to allow a tall woman who looks familiar walk hurriedly by with Glenn the cop I used to wait tables with at The Mayflower. She is tall and blond and beautiful dressed casually in typical Ptown daytime attire of faded jeans, t-shirt and light jacket. Her eyes are filled with horror, glassy with tears and her hand is covering her mouth and Glenn the cop seems to be escorting her his serious face making a way through the crowd on the sidewalk. She is whispering “Nononoohnoohnonono…” as she walks quickly toward her gallery.

It occurs to me who the woman is and wonder aloud to D if maybe someone has broken into the gallery or what could be wrong. I stand there looking after her and then out to the bay the sun sparkling on the water while the boats bob and heave in the tide. Annoyingly I keep asking D what could be wrong and of course as he does not know he ignores my repeated questions of what could have happened. It’s about 1230 in the afternoon and sun is high in the sky and I pull the brim of my hand down over my forehead against the sun that threatens to burn my face and tuck the thought away of what could have happened to the woman I vaguely know.

I didn’t know then but later in the day learned that at a bit before noon that beautiful impossibly clear and gorgeous cape cod day a SUV veered out of its lane and struck that womans son as he walked his bike with his girlfriend along Route 6 close to the turn off to town.

Her hand to her mouth I saw what my worst nightmare would look like as she rushed to the scene where her son would be pronounced dead at 16 on a sunny day.

Their gallery closed with just a sign that says “closed” and her son’s name with year of birth and death with the words “Our families loss” written at the bottom.

****my sincere condolences to the family and wishing the boy peace for he was greatly loved***

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