an evening trip

i took the train today to go see an exhibition of paintings of an old friend, that her sister organised it in her memory.

a little boy of about five or six years old with dark blue eyes, really fat cheeks and the cutest red lips came in with his mother, and i signed to her that there's space next to me. she sat next to me and he opposite me next to some indian business man who according to his body language thought very high of himself (really... next time go to first class if you dont want to mingle with people "lower" than you).

ok, back to the cutie boy, our first encounter was that he spilled his hot chocolate on my new jeans luckily it had a tight lid that held so only a few drops spilled and not the whole cup - much to both our relief. it impressed me very much how honestly he apologised. and seeing as his mother looked like a drug addict it probably wasn't his fault at all that his fine motoric skills weren't quite up to his age - he dropped it a couple more times, then dropped his brezel, then dropped the cup again as he wanted to throw it away into the bin.

about halfway to my destination, this train stops at the town where my friend used to live. so many memories came back, running to catch my last train home, standing on the train doorstep to hold it open long enough for a last good night hug and - just friendly - kiss... and then a very, very last good night. tears started running down my face. i wasnt exactly crying - the sobs from her loss stopped maybe a year ago. i thought i was hiding my tears pretty well, looking out the window and all. but the little guy noticed.

he asked, why are you crying? oops! i got caught! i discussed with myself for a second, what should i answer him, lie that i m not crying? tell him what? if you know children, you know they never stop at the first question specially when they've found somebody who answers truthfully, so i took a deep breath and said, i miss my friend who died.

immediately i saw his puzzled face, and he hesitated, seeing that i was upset. but i gave him a reassuring smile and he asked the next question what did she die from?

................

that was harder and i could see it coming, but never was prepared to give an age appropriate answer...

killed herself? but he's so young...
didnt want to live anymore? definitely too young and i can't say that to somebody else's child (i would say that to my child though)

i just answered, what i ve thought all along.

i told him she died from loneliness.

he stretched over both his arms and reached over for my hand, held it tight and he looked into my eyes and he said, really concerned, "i m sorry you're crying"

and that was the most sincere condolences i've received - in fact the only ones in that case, since nobody had an idea how much she meant or how big a gap she left.

i was glad i had to get off, allowing the cold night to dry my eyes.