Alone in my room with everyone else
T handmade me two photo books to carry with me on trips – one is about us as lovers and has many photos of us together. The other is about us as a family and has many photos of Tin, me, Loca and Bam Bam as well as her in it. I came back to The Bowery after having had an curtailed trip last time to New York and am sitting in a similar room that looks out over a courtyard that I once looked out at with angst – only the world has changed.
Last time I was here it was November 30th and I was so melancholy I could have drowned in an inch of tears. My mom was dying in the hospital. That night I went to bed and my mom died. I traveled home the next day. And she was buried on Wednesday.
Upon returning to the same hotel I almost had a sense of dread of being at a place that is now haunted by the ghost of who I was on November 30, 2009. But instead I found myself looking at my photo books that T made me and seeing the cover photo of us kissing Tin that Marc took on Christmas eve and I had a whimisical thought about my mother being an angel by my side.
Before when I traveled, I always called mom and told her what I was up to and she lived vicariously through my adventures and she was always a phone call away. Now she sits on my shoulder, an angel, and comes on my trips with me.
That is when she is not watching over her grandson.