Sunday, July 12, 2015

Sunday Memories:
The Home Inside Our Hearts

We all grew up here.

They on two different parts of the upper west side that could have been in different countries and me on the lower east side which often was a different country.

But when you know, in the midst of chaos and fear and loss, someone is a home for your heart, you don't quibble about addresses.

One we visited in a hotel room befitting for a 15 year-old runaway.

One lived with me when we were barely 17 or 18.

And I ... I always knew I would never be unmoored from the world as long as they still knew me.

Four decades of showing up for meals and memorials, reckonings and illness, celebrations and rare comfort.  We always knew - NO MATTER WHAT - we were always here, there and everywhere.  It was family and connection.  And sometimes, in dark corners of crushing moments, it was the only family and connection we had.

Modern life's interpretation of time and distance (whether to Seattle or Harlem) makes visits rare.   Still - NO MATTER WHAT -  how little or how often we send casual hellos, when home is needed to shelter a broken heart or share rare delight, we are here, there and everywhere.

One got married in a Halloween festival, dressed as a wench to her new husband's pirate.

And just today, the other in full colonial finery got married to the love of her life on the porch of a mansion once owned by a trouble-maker woman who defied all rules of her times.

And today, like any day  I see either of them - NO MATTER WHAT - my heart both weeps and dances with joy.    

Related Posts

Sunday Memories: Homecoming

This is Her New York

Morris Jumel Mansion