Laurie Lustiber's "Full Circle"

Laurie is the most recent member to join our CAM writing community at The Museum School. She conceived and revised "Full Circle" during our inaugural 'Prose to Poetry' course. We are grateful she has chosen to "spread her wings" among us!

Full Circle

Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1974

As I stepped off the bus, I was instantly aware of the noise of the city, forming a symphonic accompaniment to the sights before me. Cars darted around throngs of people, out enjoying the early September warmth, their horns entreating the pedestrians, “Be careful!” “Watch out!” Worshippers clad in flowing robes chanted on the sidewalk, their tambourines providing the percussion to the music of the city. A newsboy selling the day’s paper called out in rhythm. The kiosk that marked the entrance to the subway stood as a relic of a bygone age, mocking the long hair, bell-bottoms, and peace beads of the students outside.  I had just left the nest, arriving in Cambridge, so close to home, yet so foreign. I was ready to spread my wings, having been gently pushed out on my own by wise parents who knew their little bird needed to fly.

Harvard Square was dominated by the university, but also very much part of the vibrant city, a hotbed of political protest in the 60’s; a thriving microcosm of counterculture in the seismic social and political shift that continued into the 70’s. I arrived on this scene, having left the warm supportive arms of my large extended family and the comforts of suburbia. The sights, the sounds, and as I later learned, the groupthink of this place challenged everything I thought I knew.  

I felt a slight anticipation, a resolve, a confidence that I would assimilate to this new life. At the same time, I felt a force gently pulling me back to comfort, to the warm enclosure of home and the loving arms of my family. There were times that I tried to run back to that place of comfort, but my wise parents kept pushing gently. “You need to be independent.” Somewhere along the journey, I grew up, embraced my independence, found the loving embrace of friends in addition to family, and found my life’s work and most importantly, my life’s love.

Cambridge, Massachusetts, 2017

I am back to this place where I first spread my wings and where I met my life’s love. my husband of thirty-six years. 

I have returned for his funeral.

Harvard Square is a little more gentrified, but remains a microcosm of an ever-changing world. The old theater, famous for its avant-garde cinema, still attracts a crowd looking for thought provoking films, but the mom and pop stores have been replaced by upscale chain stores designed to attract a high-end clientele. Tourist trinkets emblazoned with the Harvard shield and other memorabilia have replaced the funky objects once for sale in the school bookstore, known to all as “The Coop.” Only the kiosk remains, silently guarding against the homogenization of the city.  

The symphony has softened to a new age production of easy listening.  The newsboys are gone; a pedestrian mall sits above the subway; the worshippers no longer chant their praises on the sidewalk. Young hipsters skateboard down the street, ear buds ensuring that they alone hear the music.  Tourists sip cappuccino on the mall, as businessmen read the Wall Street Journal on their lunch breaks.

My son is with me. He didn’t grow up here, but he knows this place, he knows its history, its meaning to us, its pull. He understands its hold on me; he understands what it meant to his dad; he has fallen under its spell. 

It’s only fitting that we should return to stay in this place where my husband and I met and began our life together. The funeral home is down the street, the owner an old family friend.  My dad’s old flower shop, now a condo complex, is nearby.  The gates of Mt. Auburn Cemetery stand across the street from Dad’s former shop.  Hikers and daydreamers wander through the verdant grounds of this old cemetery, a small arboretum in the middle of Cambridge.   Like the kiosk, it stands sentinel against the progress of modernization.  It is the final resting place for so many loved ones and now for my husband.   It’s peace and tranquility bring me comfort.

I am spreading my wings again, thrust once again out of the comfort of familiar home life; thrust into a new life without my anchor, my love.  Again, I face an unknown future, a life’s transition, a journey. This city is my growing up place, my place of metamorphosis.

I feel a slight anticipation, a resolve, a confidence that I will assimilate to this new life.