Chapter 25 #2
“This is a strong objection. Can you be more specific?”
“I no longer believe that it is helpful to encourage the pursuit of success independently—to assume that one is alone in this world and therefore should not need to rely on family structures or community or even love to fulfill basic needs. Instead, I have understood that family takes many forms and community can be found at any stage of life. And sometimes love isn’t what you think it’s going to be.
In fact, predicting the presence or absence of love and any subsequent effect is nearly impossible.
Ignorance of that fact would be detrimental to socioemotional growth. ”
“And Maslow? Do you still refute the order of the hierarchy?”
“No.”
“I’m sorry?” Dr. Bruker leaned forward, clasping his hands.
“I don’t refute the idea. I misunderstood it.
I discounted the fact that Maslow was trying to make it easier for people to better understand who they are and what they long for.
And it’s probably simpler than I thought it was.
We are all responsible for ourselves and our happiness, but if someone assists us, it doesn’t take away from our ability to self-actualize.
We are no less successful if we accept help and support.
And maybe we are not lacking if we don’t have community, yes.
But there is no denying what community adds to one’s life.
Most importantly, I misinterpreted what Abraham Maslow said about love. ”
“Now this I have to hear,” said Dr. Hess, resting her chin on the heel of her hand. “Where exactly did you stay in Italy this summer?”
“He said that love comes after basic needs are met. And I used to think that if your basic needs are met, you probably would be fine without love at all. But now I know that he meant that if you feel unsafe, you probably won’t notice when love comes into your life anyway.
That sounds—well, it sounds a little bit depressing to me now, if I’m honest. So, as you can see, I have some thinking to do about future research, and I wish that I was the right person to prove that we can live independently without need for each other.
But as it stands, I’m the wrong person for the job. ”
“Dr. Brooks, I am not sure what, or who, it is that brought you to this realization,” said Dr. Hess.
“But I’m quite glad that you’ve had it. Your ability to reassess evidence and your courage to discuss your own errors is truly exemplary.
As you likely know, Maslow himself changed many ideas simply by doing things like observing his own child and grandchild.
Many of us have changed our minds after experiencing something that could not be explained by the data.
So I encourage you to get out there and do your own observing.
And when you’ve come up with something that doesn’t only sound good but feels good, we would be honored for you to consider other postdoctoral positions here. ”
If Lora had to pay a fee for every time she picked up her phone while traveling from Zurich to New York, she would have been broke by the time she landed at LaGuardia.
They were the kind of pickups that had no purpose; it was just the muscle memory of looking for something.
But what was she looking for? Answers? Proof?
Permission? Her fingers inevitably brought her to photos—a selfie from the kayak with Andrea saluting the camera with his paddle blade, a shot of the Panda sitting in front of city hall, Beatrice with her cane battipanni beating an area rug in the courtyard, a photo of the band with the lead singer belting out a song in his leather vest. Since leaving Italy, she’d learned that there were more than fifty covers of “Take Me Home, Country Roads,” by people like Lana Del Rey, Ray Charles, Olivia Newton-John, and even a punk version by a band called Jason & the Scorchers.
But by far, the most beautiful cover was by Brandi Carlile, her voice soaring over the melody that sounded like a hymn.
Lora listened to the track somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean and pulled out Ivo’s ring again, slipping it down onto her thumb.
It had become a habit, helping her to feel centered when nothing felt sure.
Ivo had never been a real dad, but she couldn’t help feeling that he—or at least his ring—did help her make this life-changing decision.
And she was grateful. It made her want to hold on to it because maybe it would mean holding on to a little bit of him.
She closed her eyes for a few moments but couldn’t sleep and stared out into the dark sky for most of the flight.
Two messages chimed their arrival when she turned off airplane mode while on the tarmac in New York. First Vilmari texted that she was circling the arrivals area and was ready to swoop in when necessary. Next there was a voice message on WhatsApp from Giada.
Ciaooo, Lora! I hope you are good and that the meeting in Zurigo was also good. We miss you! It’s quiet here. Well, more quiet, haha, because you are in Svizzera and Andrea is in London. Maybe he told you? Let us know how you are when you can! Baci, baci!!
London. Where his sister was trying to get him to move.
Had he changed his mind about the second term?
Her heart sank. Maybe he didn’t feel the same way anymore.
The last few days had proved that anything could change in an instant.
One of the flight attendants was announcing which carousel would have the baggage from this flight, first in English, then in Italian.
It would probably be the last time she heard the language for a while.
Her head was swimming with thoughts, ideas, plans, questions as she stood on stiff legs and followed the line of weary passengers off the plane.
Vilmari pulled up to the curb in her dad’s old RAV4 that she had borrowed for the occasion and jumped out to help Lora put her suitcase in the back.
She hugged Lora hard, then whipped around to tell a guy in a beat-up old Nissan exactly where he could shove the horn that he’d been honking to get her to move away from the arrivals curb.
“Welcome back to New York! Where people really suck sometimes,” Vilmari said, laughing. She pointed to the cup holder between them. “I got you an iced chai latte with coconut milk. I figured it’s been a while.”
“Thank you. That’s amazing.” Lora swooned, picking up the cup. She took a deep sip and sat back in the passenger’s seat. “I’m so exhausted.”
“You’re brave for taking a red-eye. Is that all that was available?”
“I think I was just in a rush, to be honest. I couldn’t see the point in staying in Switzerland any longer.”
“Did they freak out?” Vilmari asked, craning her head around to check that she wouldn’t be broadsided trying to merge onto Grand Central Parkway.
“No. They were surprised, but complimented me. It’s probably not every day that a postdoc shows up to nuke their entire project in real time.”
“Well, you’re no ordinary postdoc. We know that.” Vilmari glanced down to Lora’s hand, still wrapped around the cup. “What is that ring?”
“It was Ivo’s,” she said, looking down. She’d forgotten it was still on.
“It’s gigantic. Who has fingers that big?”
“My father. Apparently.”