More time goes by, and still nothing happens. The car is hot, and I’m thirsty. My skin feels like it’s on fire. In addition to the pulsating pain in my arm, I realize that I also have a headache—a mild but nagging throb that fills my whole skull.
Two hours pass before we begin to move. But even then, we dawdle along at a pace that seems even slower than before. It’s nearly as excruciating as if we weren’t moving at all.
I storm out of the quiet car into the vestibule and call Kasia, fuming.
“Unbelievable! This Amtrak is good for nothing!” I hiss in Polish. “How can they keep people waiting, uninformed, left to fend for themselves with no food or water? Complete lack of responsibility!”
Kasia listens patiently and tells me she can’t wait to see me. Her voice, so dear, does nothing to calm me.
It takes seven hours to get to New Haven instead of the usual five. When the train pulls into the station, I loudly share my unhappiness with everyone around. “Even five hours would be too long!” I say, daring anyone to challenge me. “The infrastructure in our country is pitiful. In Europe, this trip would take a fraction of the time.” I’m tired and hot, and this headache won’t go away.
I hail a cab at the station; in fifteen minutes, it pulls up to Kasia and Jake’s home.
When I walk in the front door, Lucian and Sebastian leap at me with such force that I almost end up on the floor. “Babcia! Babcia!” they scream in unison. “I love you, I love you so much! I missed you!” I kiss their ketchup-stained faces and hug them and don’t want to let go.
Kasia runs out of the kitchen to greet me. “Mama!” she exclaims. “I’m so happy you’re here!”
She kisses me, and I press my body against hers with all my might. I want to feel the warmth of my daughter, to let her know that I’ve missed her and am very happy to be with her. From a beautiful little girl, she’s turned into a gorgeous, mature woman, smart and exceptionally devoted to her family and her challenging work. I want to tell her, as I have so many times before, how proud I am, how pleased to see her so pretty and so accomplished.
But that’s not what I say.
“Amtrak sucks!” Those are the first words from my mouth.
She looks a little shocked.
“I can’t tell you how long that train ride was,” I say forcefully. “I will never take that train again!”
“Mum, come in and sit down. Let’s relax and—”
“It’s irresponsible to keep people on the train for so long. It was horrible.”
I see her staring at me, imploring me to let it go, but I have no intention of doing that. I’ve been wronged, and I want her sympathy. “There is no excuse,” I continue. “It’s a shame that in this rich and technologically advanced country, the trains are in such poor shape. In Europe, they run so much faster. Can you believe how long I was on the train?”
Sebastian and Lucian tug at my hand, trying to pull me into a game. But I want the boys to understand what I’ve just been through too. It was a terrible experience.
“Amtrak sucks!” I say it again. And again. Lucian and Sebastian are getting bored with my tirade, and soon they disappear into their room to continue their wild games, screaming and laughing.
“Okay, Mum, enough about the train,” Kasia breaks in. “You’re here now. What can I get you? Do you want to lie down?”
Enough? I think. I am deeply aggrieved! “The train was horrible—”
“Let’s talk about something else,” she says gently.
“Why can’t I express my opinion?” I shoot back bitterly.
Kasia tries to brush off my outburst. She tends to the boys and starts preparing our dinner. But I can’t move on. I’m irritated by Kasia. I’m irritated by the boys, by everything. Suddenly, I am so, so tired. And this headache—it’s not going away.
I stay in New Haven for two days as planned. But my time there is not nearly as restorative as it was intended to be, either for me or for my family.
I can’t stop talking about my train ride. I bring it up with Kasia and Jake—and with their friends, too, when they drop by to say hello and wish me well. They listen politely but I can see from their expressions that they’re thinking, Why are you telling this story? Why is it such a big deal?
But it is a big deal. It’s a huge deal. If they can’t see that, there must be something wrong with them.
Amtrak sucks! The refrain circles around in my mind like a toy train looping a closed track. Amtrak sucks! I say it out loud, too, over and over, to anyone who will listen.
It’s not only Amtrak that is the object of my ire. I’m irritated if our lunch is even five minutes later than Kasia promised. I can’t stand how loud the boys are. I find everything my family does annoying, and I tell them so.
On the second afternoon of my visit, Sebastian comes running over, laughing loudly, and bumps into me. It pisses me off. “Be quiet!” I tell him. “Just stop it! Stop it!”
He looks like he’s about to cry. “You’re so mean!” he says.
“Oh, come on! You can’t be that sensitive! Can’t you take criticism? That’s just crazy!”
He bursts into tears and runs from the room. Kasia comes in from the kitchen.
“Really, Mom,” she says. “You are being mean. It’s not like you.”
I cannot believe what I’m hearing.
She’s siding with him? I’m mean? Is she serious?
I turn away. I don’t want to talk to any of them. I go into the guest room and close the door.
Why is Kasia arguing with me? I wonder as I lie in the
