LOST

LOST

It was winter,2024, I think , when the nightmare began.

Oh, it started out fine. I was planning to visit two friends, both residing at The Quadrangle in Bryn Mawr.

I planned to leave at one of clock in the afternoon, looking forward to seeing my two long-time girlfriends despite knowing they lived at opposite ends of the luxurious senior living apartments, nestled among a myriad of trees and natural surroundings.

I got in my battered old white Impala, circa 2007, covered with battle scars from my many encounters with telephone poles and parked cars.

I was confident I would remember the way, having visited there the previous year, and anyway I had my phone gps, which I was confident I would know how to use, should I lose my way.

Upon arriving at the facility, I remembered Janet’s directions on where to park, or so I thought.

Finally, after much trial and error, I found a spot.

Senior facilities are guarded like Fort Knox. Upon entering you have to give your autobiography to bureaucrats who can’t speak English. One points to the elevator, than goes back to whatever mundane task she was doing.

I ride the elevator to the fourth floor and walk..and walk., and walk until I find what I think is the right apartment number. I knock several times, loudly. There is no response. Maybe they didn’t hear me! I pound harder, wondering if they might be dead.

The door to the apartment next door opens and there is my tiny red-headed friend, Janet. Luckily she knows me and understands I can’t follow directions. We embrace. She shows me her spacious apartment and to her lovely care nurse, Rachel. I see Marty in his recliner , dozing. He is in the last stages of Parkinsons, and has become very frail. It is a shock to see the husband if my old friend in such condition. I remember our conversations at Rose Valley Pool, while Janet did her laps, and I , dripping had just finished mine. Marty is good looking even now with gentle brown eyes and still retains most of his hair.

Mart and I visit for a short time, but he is tired, so Janet and I catch up on our lives. We reminisce our many memories, as friends.Our trip to Scotland in 2016, our swimming adventures at Rose Valley Pool and Rose Valley Folk. We share our marital secrets and encourage each other as sisters.

I don’t realize the passage of time until then click nears 4:30. “Oh no, I exclaim! I need to see Dee in the care center and it will be dark, soon!

Janet give me directions to the care center and we hug goodbye.

After driving dowb to the care center I can se it’s beginning to get dark.I hunt for a parking place,finalkly find one ,and enter the bu8iilding.

It is a typical nursing home with a nursing station,long hallways,and lost elderly patients sitting in wheelcahira starinjg blan kly. I aske one fo the nurses at the3 station,also rude and unable to speak enough English to understand me.

“I am looking for a patient Dee M,” I announce. the nurse gives me a blank look.

“We dont have anyone here by that name.”

What do you mean you dont have a patient by that name.Here is her name right bere!”

“Oh, we do have a Delores M. She’s on the sec ond floor,room 204. take the elevator right over there(she jerks her head) “But first you have to fill out this form.”

“What?” I ask.

Its getting dark,and I cant drive in the drk.”

“Just fill out this form,the robot nurse says, woodenly. it is 5 pm and the sky is dark. I rush through the form, glaring at the nurse.” sign,here” and get a badge,s. I rush to the elevator, anxious about the dark.

AFter much asking cluel;ess nurses I finally find Deer’s room. She is sleeping. I take her hand and hold it.

“Dee,I am here.I am sorry I am so late.

.”

“How do you feel?” I ask.

I sit bride her and hold her hand. Soon she is asleep.I kiss her forehead and say goodbye to hetr,looking worriedly at the night sky.

My dear friend.My sponsor.The only mother I ever really had..

I exit the depressing facility and walk to my car. I unlock it and get in.

“Now what?” I think to myself.Where is the exit?I drive around the perimeter of the facility twice before I find the exit,and turn right(I turned left when I came in,so this must be right.)

There are no streetlights.I cannot read the road signs.

Suddenly I realize I have no idea where I am!

I find a Wawa and pull in. I get out my phone(thank God for such a wonderful invention) and dial my husband. By this time, I am crying.

“Im lost,I shriek!’

“What? I cant hear you!”

“I AM LOST!” I shout.

Where are you?”

“I dont know.I am at a Wawa” the street says???

“I cant hear you,He shouts at me,again,let me put Brett on”

My phone is losing juice,fast.

I replay the same scenario to my son.

“Do you know how to get to West Chester Pike?”

No,I whine,I don't know which way to go.”

I hang up,ibfuriated at both of them,and walk into the wawa. I go up to a handsome man and ask hime where West Chester Pike is.

He tells me in about five seconds.

I head to the piked,soon recognizing where I am,and find Lawrence Road. I turn left,happy that I know where I am going,now,when I see emergency vehicles blocking the upper end of the street.

“Oh crap,I think to myself ,now what?”

Oh,yes,I remember there is a little side street that will cut t.hrough the shopping c enter. I turn left.

I am in an alley with dumpsters. I begin to cry in frustration again

When I emerge from the dark alley,the emergency vehicles are gone.My first stroke of good luck.

I turn left at the light.

I will take a short cut through crum creek road,I think,happily hoping this ordeal is over.

There are no streetlights on this road,and a dense fog is moving in.

I crawl along the dark road,shrouded in thick fog,inching my way thr0ough a misty tunnel,of which I see no end.I pray,”Please God,just get me home.”

I see the traffic light shining through the fog.

“Thank you God,”I say.. By this time I am crying.

AS I sit at the traffic light waiting for it to turn green,I think to myself,”I need a drink.”

I havent thought that thought in almost 40 years.!

I quickly remember that I am an alcoholic in recovery,and a drink is not an option.

I drive the remaining several miles home without incident.

I come in the door,still upset and fuming.The men are in front of the tv watching sports.

“Oh,you came home,” my husband says sarcastically.

“No thanks to you,I yell,and proceed to rip them both new ones.

I stalk upstairs and get eady for bed. I made it but for the Grace of God.