From the time I was a little girl, to today, I have loved New York City. I saw it at its worst in the late 1960s and '70s when I was a single gal living with roommates, and at its best when I visited with my late husband, Mark.
I visited alone for the first time when I was about 11. I flew in from Maryland to see my Nana and spend time with her in the summer. For many summers after that, I traveled by plane, train, or bus to enjoy time with her without my siblings. (Thanks Mom.) She taught me everything from etiquette to baking and I never tired of being with her and her friends.
Fast forward to me living in NYC, working as a nurse at NYU meeting my husband, and eventually moving away in 1973. It was years and a few children before I went back. It was as if no time had gone by. I could feel the rhythm of the city in the sidewalk.
Going to New York City was the first trip I took after my husband died. Memories are precious. Now we are coming full circle. I hope to take my daughter, her husband, and her children there for spring break. Will they understand my joy in showing them "my city"? Will they love Broadway as much as I do? Will the dinosaurs at the Museum of Natural History still be there?
Stay tuned for an update, but in the meantime, that picture is my Mom, my brother Marc and me. The wall is around Central Park and I am 6.
Happy July!
