This is a big week for my family.
My parents are two homebodies. But mom has a bit of wanderlust about her. She’s always dreamed pretty big but never allowed herself the budget or the time to satisfy her curiosity.
Until this week.
Today mom and her best friend are traveling to New York City. It’s the first time for my mom and only one of a handful of times for her friend. They picked a beautiful time. The tress in Central Park are at their fall finest. Broadway just started a new season. I’ve read the Rockefeller tree is in place and though the Christmas bustle isn’t quite in full effect, I’m a bit jealous.
New York has become one of my favorite places. I love places that swallow you whole. I love places I can’t out-dream. Nothing can ever be big enough in New York and something about that spurs me on to a God that is bigger than any of us could fathom.
It’s all very gritty and magical. There are not many places that are both.
Mom is worried about the amount of walking. She’s worried about public bathrooms and catching the plague from the handrails down to the subway. She’s worried about a million things.
She’s excited about Time Square and Broadway. She’s excited about the city tour on those double decker buses. She wants to buy something fake – anything – in China Town.
I’m excited for her. For the woman who has given my brother and I not just what we needed but what we wanted too. We learned early on to stop mentioning shoes or watches or clothes we were eyeing as somehow they would end up in our hands, even if it cost mom a great deal. If I could gather all the money and things she gave us over the years instead of doing something for herself, it would equal hundreds of trips to New York.
We will start with this trip. Today.
Mom, I’m not an expert on the city, but here is what I hope for you: