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Donnerstag, 29. November 2012

A Wonderful New York Story

I know I posted about my uneventful day already, and it's way past my bed time, but I had coke and had to reward myself for finishing my Biology stuff, so I just wanted to share a wonderful text with you, which made me cry like not even homesickness has managed to make me do.

But first: Something not so sad to ease your way in:

Source: tumblr (don't be surprised, there is music in the background of this tumblr!)

A NYC Taxi driver wrote:

I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. "Just a minute", answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940’s movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.

There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

"Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.

She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.

She kept thanking me for my kindness. "It’s nothing", I told her.. "I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated."

"Oh, you’re such a good boy," she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?"

"It’s not the shortest way," I answered quickly.

"Oh, I don’t mind," she said. "I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice."

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. "I don’t have any family left," she continued in a soft voice. "The doctor says I don’t have very long." I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

"What route would you like me to take?" I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.

We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, "I’m tired. Let’s go now."
We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.
They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

"How much do I owe you?"she asked, reaching into her purse.

"Nothing," I said

"You have to make a living," she answered.

"There are other passengers," I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly.

"You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank you."

I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.

I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.

But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

Homestead Survival

And another very, very beautiful thing:

Natalie McDonald, who appears on page 159 of Harry Potter And The Goblet Of Fire, was a real person. She was a nine-year-old girl from Toronto, Canada, who was dying of leukaemia. She wrote to JK Rowling asking what was going to happen in the next Harry Potter book as she would not live long enough to read it. The kindly author emailed back, but Natalie had died a day earlier. In tribute, she became a first-year student at Hogwarts named by the Sorting Hat in Gryffindor - the house for the brave at heart - in the fourth book.
Source: Fawkesashes

And now something to cheer you up:

Source: Lost/unknown | tumblr

Source: lost/unknown | tumblr



And (and this is the last thing here):

Some nights I stay up splashing in my bathtub.
Some nights I bathe in the dark.
Some nights I wish that this water had more bubbles.
Some nights I wish I could dry off.
But I still jump in.
I still take the plunge.
Oh Lord I’m still not sure where I put my sponge.
Where is my sponge? Where is my sponge? Most nights I just use…a washcloth.
This is it boys, this is clean!
What are you dirty for?
Why don’t we wash ourselves already?
I take my tips from the Hygiene King.
Saved me from smelling obscene.
Scrub twice as hard so I’m super clean.
But here they come again to drain my tub.
That’s alright.
I found a rubber duck in my bath tonight.
Keeps Rachel wondering
who I am, who I am, who I am
Who am I
Well some nights I wish that this bath would end
Cuz I could use a shower for a change
And some nights I’m scared
The water will be too hot again
Some nights I just sink in (I just sink in)
But I still jump in.
I still take the plunge.
Oh Lord I’m still not sure where I put my sponge.
Where is my sponge? Where is my sponge? Most nights I just use…a washcloth.
So this is it. I got naked for this? Washed off all the dirt for this? I miss Andrew and Jack for this?
When I see suds that’s all they are.
When I hear the faucet it sounds like a song.
Well that is it guys, bath is done!
Five minutes in and I’m bored again.
An evening of this I’m not sure if anybody understands.
This one is not for those in a hurry
Sorry but I like to take my time
Who the fuck wants to bathe alone
I’d rather have all of fun.
My heart is breaking for the water
Because now it’s gotten cold
But then I look into the shiny surface
Man you wouldn’t believe
The most amazing things
That can happen to you…
When you’re Nate Rueee-ESS-EH-EH-EHHH-ESSS. EHHH-ESS-EHHH…
The other night you wouldn’t believe
The bubbles that formed they filled me with glee
I invited you in and we both agreed
It’s for the best you wash my back
It’s for the best we take turns now

Source: tumblr
As soon as Artistic Wolf Pup on tumblr has sung this in, I will of course provide a link to it! Stay tuned!

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