It’s raining and muggy when I wake and I know I will swim. I go to the pool, not the pond, in case it thunders, but it doesn’t and by the end of my wonderful swim I am the only one left swimming in a steady but pleasant downpour. Very happy to have such a fine workout before a day mostly spent sitting. I get to kiss the boy before he leaves for his first day of school before I leave for Mass. General in Boston with my friend who is having surgery there today. Traffic is not terrible. We get there in time. They are very efficient and prompt. We get to walk a bit on Beacon Hill while she’s waiting to be taken in, and these are new sights for her, here in this country. All goes smoothly and well, I get plenty of work done, planning my two monologue showcases for September in the cafeteria of the hospital. I balance the time spent under florescent lights and windowless rooms with a nice walk up Cambridge Street, down Staniford Street, and into a lovely park with sidewalks and trees that are both mature and saplings that will be so some day. I pass the high rise on Staniford where the Cleaver Company used to be when my father worked there decades ago––and I’m seized by a killer longing to press the elevator and rise up to the 29th floor to the office he had there and sit and talk with him. He would greet me eagerly, stop what he was doing, and talk with me for as long as I stayed, no matter how busy he was. Damn, I miss him. Spent a lot of time walking these neighborhoods because I worked often, myself, in high rises nearby while I was in college and graduate school to make money word processing. Often we would commute in together those days. Or he’d let me use his parking garage pass to park if I needed to be there by car. A helpless longing. And then, I returned to Mass. General via the tree-lined park to see my friend sitting up, smiling, dopey and well enough to go home to spend the night. I’m grateful to have been part of this day to spend with her having this procedure and having it be successful. Home to a kiss from the boy who had a first day of school, before bedtime. Smiling, he was, about his lunch and his new friends.