Wednesday, March 5, 2014

home from away

I've been back and forth to NY without Jimmy so often in recent years I didn't think that the place would have such a big impact on my emotional balance but I was wrong. 

Although my family made every effort to make me welcome and comfortable I was constantly uneasy, as if I had misplaced or forgotten something important. Of course, there were the phone calls that didn't come three or four times a day. "It's Jimmy!" they always teased me every time any phone used to ring, even on TV. 

 I met with some dear old friends over lunches, dinners and drinks and we shared wonderful memories.  I couldn't do a lot of driving around visiting old haunts; the weather was Old School Hudson Valley Winter's worst, snow with a coating of ice and temps lingering in the teens and although I liked driving my brother's big GMC truck, driving just for the sake of driving would have been foolish. It was better to be a passenger. I could look out the window and just daydream.

This was the place where we met and courted, came to be loved and trusted by each other's family, had and raised our boys. Here we lived for the first seventeen years of our life together. Haunted?  Happily, forever.

And then there was a trove of photos in the attic that I have never seen. 
My mom was a picture taking fool. If she took ten shots she got two good ones, but she never stopped trying. Thank you Mom.

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