Humid

it has been uncomfortably humid for several days; not summer, not fall. Someone remarked yesterday that we hadn’t seen the sun since the start of the week. The air has been heavy with moisture under a white sky.

I was speaking with a parent I met in the Nursery ten years ago and he was describing to me the diversity work taking place in his investment bank. The initiatives are primarily centered on advancing women and he had just learned the shift one company was making from mentoring to advocacy. Thinking about the need women have for advocates who can help to create an upward path by identifying what they need to do and alerting others that they are coming through. It’s an interesting shift from thinking about support as just holding someone up through coaching or leading the way through mentoring. Clearing the environment of obstacles seems a worthy undertaking.

Primary election day

Today, I voted in the mid-term elections. The polling station is on the fifth floor of the new Manhattan College building; the one with the Starbucks in the lower level. For the first time, the volunteer turned to the last page of the voter registration book and Gregory's name was gone. I was the only Zuroski on the list, last in the alphabet. It takes a long time to disappear from public records.

Coming home

Before Dolly passed away she said to her children, "Don't let your dad get weird." She meant don't leave him alone too much. Don't let him do things just his way. He liked to putter and often disappeared from sight after dinner, driving around in his pick-up truck or sitting out in the garage or walking up to the Point.

Coming home last night after a glorious summer of rooming with Felicity and spending my days with Emma and her children I realized that I was still struggling with this state of being alone. It's not that I don't cherish the privacy and freedom of movement, but it is easy to settle into one's own head and not seek or remain open to others. I still need to find the balance.

I arrived in Newark Airport at 11:45pm and by the time I'd picked up the car at an off-site parking lot and driven home through the Holland Tunnel and up the Henry Hudson Parkway, it was 2am. I had been hesitant to walk back into a house strewn with bits and pieces of Emma's departure; diapers, toys, summer clothes and a whole line of outgrown shoes.

However, I walked in the door and felt a new energy and resolve. After seeing Connie in her new home talking about renovations and not waiting too long to create the home she wants and seeing Cordelia's house high up on the mountain outside of LA and overlooking the Pacific coast and Margate Canyon knowing she is about to leave it after 40 years to live in a condominium closer to her new grandchild in Northern California, I knew I had to find my own momentum and really move forward.

I've kept busy for five years, but have pretty much stayed still; working around the things I didn't want to change and creating newness, some sustainable and some not. I moved the dining room table back into the dining room. The space in the front hallway is refreshing.

Saying good bye is never easy

We arrived in Los Angeles just before 7pm, 20 minutes early for a flight that left Newark Airport at 4:30pm, EST. It was futile to try to convince Felicity that her nap time had passed as we drove down the NJ Turnpike and that her bedtime had arrived several hours into the flight even though all the shades in the plane were down to block out the bright sunshine. She watched her favoritee shows on Emma’s iPad and on the screen at her seat. She ate pretzels and walked the aisle, unpacked her monkey bag to spread her things out on the floor at our feet. She sat in my lap and lounged in her seat. She did everything but sleep.

We walked the long, long corridors leading from the arrival terminal to the international terminal without having to leave the secured areas of the terminal. It took almost 30 minutes, much of it with Felicity running. “Come, run, PoPo!”  Gate 142 was in the far end of the Northern Corridor and as we headed toward it I remembered my last trip to NZ and the chaotic gathering of passengers in what appears to be an afterthought to the main terminal. It’s an area that is only serviced by buses that take you to another terminal and another ramp and another long walk up to the planes.

We made a stop to change diapers and put on Felicity’s and Henry’s pajamas, bought some food for dinner and still, Felicity couldn’t settle down to sleep. We had a 2.5 hour wait and as Emma and I lost energy, Felicity dined on m&ms, chocolate being her favorite food. Finally, at 9:30pm they started boarding. With two children, two substantial carry-ons and a monkey backpack, Emma headed off for the shuttle bus. She had wanted a long, calm good bye and with many final hugs and kisses, there was not a moment to express the sadness that sets in right behind the good feeling of time together because as soon as I leaned in for the first hug Felicity perked up, waved and declared, “Bye, bye, PoPo!”

As I write I hope they are close to arrival in Auckland. With luggage pick-up and customs the true magnitude of this journey between NY and Auckland becomes clear. Yesterday at 9 am, 24 hours ago, Emma woke up to finish packing. She has been on the go ever since.

Summer ending

It was an uneventful and quick ride home to NYC. We stopped to see Dad and talked about a few more of the many cards he received. He particularly liked one from a calligraphy friend. He was urgent to tell us that the woman, Florence, who moved in during the past year at 103 years of age had passed away. She was 104. We lost one of our group, he said. Though he doesn't appear to pay much attention to anyone he does seem to like the routine of eating with the same people and has learned something about each person.

It is blistering hot in NYC and everywhere. We watched the temperature outside climb from the high 70's up into the 90's by the time we reached NYC. Emma wants to take the kids into the city on the subway tomorrow and I can't even imagine setting foot underground right now.

Felicity talked a lot of the last hours of the trip today and we noted how much of her language has changed and deeloped since early July. She asks us to sing Mary Chip (May Had a Little Lamb) over and over again and doesn't seem to care that we make up verses just to keep the tune going. She said "my turn" today and still uses "I'm fine." when she wants you to ignore her.

Henry has become increasingly discontent with the car rides and cried his way home for the last hour or so. And yet, when he is fed and awake he is always cheerful and pleasant. He has taken to nesting in Pat's arms to watch sports.

Today was Ruby's first day of First Grade. She rode the bus to school by herself. I love that her new backpack is about as big as she is.

Last day of summer break

Labor Day 2018

Today we end a full and long summer of vacationing and visiting and celebrating family. We left the Conesus Lake house that Pat and Kathryn rented for the holiday weekend at 10am to return to Rochester for one more night. There is satisfaction in leaving a rental clean and tidy, but also a bit of nostalgia for all that has taken place so intensely over just a few days. The juice from the lobsters, a highlight of the all-day clam bake, was still on the metal table this morning. The half-finished puzzle begged to have a few more pieces in place and remnants of meals and baked goods, including the cookies that greeted us on Friday to welcome us to the house, were good for one more consideration before packing up the refrigerator. We stopped at FBH on the way to the apartment and then settled in for a quiet day. By afternoon, a walk around the Park Avenue neighborhood with Henry and Felicity gave Emma a chance to nap and Kathryn and me a chance to play. We discovered a children's sculpture garden at School #23 and a giant pig on the steps of a real estate office.

 

100th birthday

There is something certain about the change of seasons. This morning I woke up on the shore of Lake Conesus in Livonia where Kathryn and Pat have rented a house for the holiday weekend. Sitting down for my morning coffee, I was greet by the gentle lapping of the lake and the silent fluttering of leaves from the mimosa tree above; tiny leaf flakes drifting down to the water. It’s September 1st.

Yesterday we celebrated Dad’s 100th birthday. “One year older,” he said. We saw him at lunch time and again at dinner. During the afternoon a group of us including his nephew and his family who have come to Rochester from Beijing took a tour of the Erie Canal. Felicity loved the lock and listened attentively to the maneuvering of the boat into the lock applauding as the gate closed behind us.