A Six Pack of Mistaken Identity

It was a pretty, bright, sunny Saturday. The kind of day you don't want when you're nursing a hangover and have to work. I was waiting for the Rapid Transit train, at a stop that wasn't my usual. Some days I drove downtown to work, but with the hangover I just wanted to relax on the train, and maybe catch a little more sleep.

While waiting, a young man pulled his car up near the stop, got out, and started to walk toward me. “ I'm sorry, you have to forgive me.” I looked around at the other people waiting at the stop. They all looked at me. I had never seen this man before, and it appeared that he was talking, not to one of them, but to me.

I backed away from the man, but he pursued. “Last night was wonderful, please don't walk away from me. I'm crazy about you.” Crazy is right! “I'm sorry” I said, “I have never seen you before in my life. You've obviously mistaken me for someone else. Please leave me alone.” And continued to back away from him. “Why are you doing this to me?” He insisted “Last night you said you wanted to be with me, that we were magic.”

Now this was getting really creepy. This guy mistook me for someone else, who he obviously loved so much he couldn't recognize, and wouldn't listen to me at all. I was not getting a lot of support from my traveling companions either. By the look on their faces I could see tha t they thought I WAS his true love, and that I was just being cruel. Someone even said “Why don't you just give him a chance?” Dude I don't know this guy!!!!

This confrontation persisted for a surrealistically long time. The young man was insistently pleading with me to take him back. To come away with him. To spend my life with him (or just another night in bed, not sure which). I tried to explain that I was not the girl he was looking for. “But you told me you take this train every morning, please don't walk away from me.”

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Ever have one of those days? You have a hangover, you just want to take the train and sleep it off and nothing goes right. Dying to know how this all ends?

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A girl with my hair color and length, who looked nothing like me, got out of a car and walked up to the train stop. Well actually, as soon as she saw my tormentor, she bounded up to him and into his arms. And he, realizing the mistake scooped her up in a loving embrace. I on the other hand got nothing, not even an apology, as I was sure he didn't want to admit his mistake to his “true love”. I did however scowl disapprovingly at my traveling companions who hadn't shown any support for me in my time of despair and need.

...and the train came, and the foolish girl got into the car with the idiot, and I rode to my drudge of a job as an underpaid and under appreciated cashier.

Flax Oatmeal Whole Wheat Bread

This is my own recipe for the yummy healthful bread I eat every day
Delish and Healthy - Makes a 1 1/2 pound loaf

1 cup water
2 Tbsp soy oil
3 Tbsp Molasses (or honey)
3 Tbsp Milled Flax Seed
1 Tbsp Vital Wheat Gluten (works better with but optional)
1 1/2 Tbsp non fat dry milk
1/4 c oatmeal
1 cup white flour
1 1/2 cup whole wheat flour
1 1/2 tsp rapid rise yeast

I make this in a bread machine on wheat setting cause I'm lazy. You can knead by hand and rise if you want. I won't stop you

THE KINDNESS OF STRANGERS OR HOW I LEARNED TO MAKE FRITTATA

I was making a frittata this morning and my mind went back to the day I learned to make it. There's a back story to this, so be patient.

One day, my mother got a call from a stranger. He was a friend of my Uncles and said my Uncle was not well and was in the hospital. My mother and Aunt hopped a plane and went to Florida from Ohio. It turned out that he had Aids related Dementia and was slowly dying of it. He had had it a long time, but nobody told us.

Mom and my Aunt tried to find a place for my uncle, but there was no place in Florida that would take him. Back then there was still a lot of prejudice against Aids patients. They finally found a group home in Columbus, which was much closer to our home in Cleveland.

We took turns visiting on weekends, but my Uncle wasn't in the group home long. His condition deteriorated so quickly that soon he was in the hospital. He never really knew what was happening or who we were. Sometimes he would have a glimmer of memory, but it was of the past, not who was in front of him. It was very sad.

Finally we got a call that his suffering would be over soon and we rushed to be by his side. When we arrived there was an older couple in the room with him. Turns out they were very good friends that had a winter home in Florida and a Summer home in Columbus. They left us with the promise of help if we needed it.

That day was very rough. We all took turns saying our goodbyes. My Uncle was dying, his mind was gone. Although he was in his late 50's he had been a dancer and a lifeguard and biked instead of driving everywhere he went. He was so fit, that his body wouldn't give out. It was a sad thing to see. We sat by his side all day and finally late at night, the nurses suggested we go to the hotel and get some rest.

We got a call in the early morning that had had passed peacefully, in the early morning. We went to the hospital to see him. They hadn't closed his eyes and he had that look you see in Renaissance paintings, as though he was looking up to Heaven. In that moment I understood why Heaven was perceived of as it was.

Suddenly the two strangers joined us again. They convinced us to leave and have breakfast with them. We went to their house and they made a delicious frittata, and taught us how. They helped us make arrangements to have the body cremated and when we arrived in Florida they were there to help make arrangements for the services and offered their house for the wake. They even shipped the special family items we wanted of his to us after we returned. They were the sweetest, kindest people and I never saw them or heard from them since.

The kindness of strangers.