45 years ago today I woke up in the room I was sharing with my sister, in the Hotel Thayer, at the United States Military Academy in West Point, New York. I hopped out of bed and nudged at the drapes until I could see what a beautiful day it was, and then snuggled back under the covers with a smile on my face. It promised to be the happiest day of my life, the first day of “the greatest journey heaven can allow,” as the lyrics to one of my favorite Barbra Streisand songs proclaimed. I remember kneeling next to Peter on the altar in the Chapel of the Most Holy Trinity during the wedding ceremony, and listening intently as the priest prayed ” and may they live to see their children and their children’s children and their children’s children’s children.” We had four children – four beautiful, strong, healthy girls – and now we’re up to the children’s children part: nine grandchildren – four girls and five boys. Awesome.
This morning I woke up curled beside Peter in a Hilton Garden Inn in Chattanooga, Tennessee. I hopped out of bed – well, maybe not hopped exactly; crept would be more correct; who hops out of bed at 66 years of age? – nudged at the drapes, and saw that it was a beautiful day for our six to seven- hour drive home, as we continued our journey from Ohio, where we’d been visiting daughter #3, her husband and darling toddler daughter, grandchild #8. Lots to be thankful for.
Tonight we’re home, too tired from the trip to go out to eat, so we’ll unpack, eat take-out and watch the Tony’s together, because though geographically we’re a long way from the New York of our rearing, we’re never far from that in-bred New York state of mind, with it’s need for and appreciation of the music of Broadway, the nourishment of the arts, the thrill of fine acting, the magic of theater. We love it. And we love each other. And it has been quite a journey; quite a conglomeration of journeys. And that’s all I have to say for now. Thanks for listening.