In the nick of time
by tamarjacobson
Arriving at the Buffalo airport nice and early for the Boston flight. Finding that the delay will be one hour and ten minutes. Just enough time to make me late for the graduation processional at U. Mass. Sucking in the disappointment. Drinking too much coffee, anxiety spreading to a wrinkle in the forehead. Taking off … landing … fifteen minutes to make it. Find a taxi and ask quietly, "University of Massachusetts please." Step inside and then repeat what I said for fear the driver did not hear me the first time. He is a large man, angry scowling face. Turns to me and starts to yell, "I heard you the first time! I know where to go! University of Massachusetts! Graduation there. I know, I know! For God’s sake!" I retreat trying to sink into the back seat further and further, tears start rolling down my cheeks as I fumble for sunglasses. "So sorry," almost a whisper from me. Tension from disappointment of delayed flights, anxiety and wanting to see my son, accumulate and rise up like an ocean wave and I weep softly into the side window, staring through the sunglasses at the gray, cold, dismal weather. Driver looks into his rear-view mirror at me, face scowling and I try to become invisible, be as quiet as I can, pushing back the tears, thinking, "Soon I will be there. Everything is okay …"
We arrive and the taxi driver has a softened tone now. Retrieve my bag, pay the fee and rush onto the lawn. Processional missed but only by five minutes or so. I’m given a seat in the back but can see the large screens. Open the cell-phone and call Gilad. "Where are you?" he asks. "I’m here," I say excitedly. "At the back. But I can see everything. I’m here. I’m here!" "Great," he replies.
I see everything, hear all. Honorary doctorates for Sylvia Poggioli and Barack Obama. Obama tells graduating students to develop empathy and learn to walk in another person’s shoes. I think of the taxi driver and what a bad day he must have been having. I smile through tears of insight and inspiration from Barack Obama’s deep, magnificent voice and shared story.
"I’m here, Gilad," I think to myself and smile as it starts to rain.
tamarjacobson 
Thank you, joared.
I refer you to my comment on TGB for May 29th post “Oh, The Stories We Can Tell.” My husband was a jazz musician for many years earlier in life, and when we met – upright acoustic bass.
Am just resuming my visits to blogs on a more frequent basis. Will look forward to visiting here.
Welcome to my new site, joared. How lovely to hear from you. Am thrilled and delighted as you can imagine that you are enjoying Gilad’s CD!
I hope you are okay (“life happened” to you?).
When I first started this weblog you would have needed a password to enter (which I gave to people who requested it, not wanting to assume that everyone would want to read it!) – but since my return from vacation I have made it public and my main blog. So glad you’re still reading me. Thank you.
Am so glad you made it to the graduation.
I have been enjoying a CD I ordered and rec’d a few weeks ago by … that’s right, Gilad Barkan’s group. I do so love jazz.
Am glad to have been able to access your new blog, as initially I couldn’t seem to get in. Had given up.
Then, life happened for me, and this is my first time back in a while, to try, just one more time — I made it! Says something for perseverance, I guess.
Thanks Claude and Mary.
I so long to sit quietly and read everyone’s blogs. I will get there … soon …
So glad you arrived in time! Great story, I felt I was with you in the cab 🙂
Congratulations to your son.
What a wise post this is. Oh I felt for you. The keyed-upness and the shock of the taxi driver’s reaction. I think it is the sheer unexpectedness of this kind of thing that floors us – well it does me.
So very glad there was a happy ending. And that is a lovely photo you’ve posted, Tamar.
Thanks so much, Jean.
Natalie, I haven’t been reading my blogging buddies much either with all my traveling. I can’t wait for a few quiet days to catch up on reading and writing it down. Thanks for blogrolling my new site!
Dear Tamar, the best of all possible best wishes for your new blog and new outlook. I’m going to blogroll your new link now. I haven’t been visiting my blogging buddies’ blogs much lately so forgive me for my lateness. I will catch up with what’s been happening with you little by little. Congraats to you and your son for being so good to and for each other.
How wonderful to share your joy in this and how I felt for you late and tearful in the beastly driver’s taxi. Congratulations to Gilad and warmest love to you and your new blog, Tamar!
How grand to return home to these congratulatory comments! Thanks so much. [Fran, I had to laugh at the thought of “decking” that cab-driver.]
Congratulations! I am glad you made it in time.
How highly perceptive you are!
“…walking in another person’s shoes.”
That’s so key for true understanding.
Even the crabby taxi driver has understood something…
What a poignant, beautiful post (you should send it to a literary magazine). I can so relate to those feelings you had as you tried to cope with running late to something that important and were affected by the gruff cab driver.
Congratulations to Gilad! Sounds like a fun graduation, wish I could’ve heard those speakers.
The warrior in me would like to have decked that taxi driver. I’ve had some like that in New York.
I’m so glad you made it to Gilad’s graduation in time to see it. A UMass graduation has to be one large ceremony!
Congrats to mom and son.
Congratulations to Gilad….and to his proud Mom. Wonderful picture of both of you.
Me three.
Me too -tears… so glad you made it & big congratulations to Gilad!
Well, that just made me shed a tear – of happiness and gratitude – for you and your dear son. Congratulations! What a great, edge of the seat story –