A treat in the Village on a very hot day...-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I had the chance to travel with my oldest, a man-boy, to a place that he vaguely remembers as a child. He had been here for an Uncle's wedding at eleven and his memories were thin and scratchy. It all seemed either new or deja-vu?No, this was a different trip. A teen agenda and a long 5 days, it would be what he made of it or -what it made of him.
For me, even the words we spoke on the streets brought back funny memories I thought I had lost. Like sticky notes of detail from long ago...
We even found the slide from when he and his brothers/cousins were all here...the one made of stone?
(a "now" and "back then" pic)-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There was freedom here for this wild child, and he would bolt for it.He found ways to grab time ~ to be alive in this place. No social suppression, protocols or very many safety concerns. It was liberating to watch:
He was alive in the city on this day and he lived it.
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Real pastrami sandwich, huge pickles and cheesecake at Carnegie's at 11pm. A perfect meal.-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The view of the three (happily-spent) on a favorite cobblestone walk back from the Met.I love this sweet walk home.
In his own time and in his own words, I will let him tell me the stories of this trip...remembering that sometimes with man-boys you have to wait a long time.-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
jj
