what memories are for

all has been a challenge lately, big and small

too much to write about at the moment.  nothing that changes the path that we are on, just a few bumps, twists, and u-turns that have me thrown.  and so i turn to reminiscing.  my little boy is not little any more.  he turned seven in october.   he is so very seven.  he’s not christopher robin so much anymore (that was from maybe four on – so very sweet and gentle and open) he is ….who?  he’s capable.  he’s strong.  he’s oh so sweet and loving.  he wrote a card to Y for no reason, and it said, ‘you are the inspiration for my dreams.’  he’s a joy.  you know during the joyful times.

so here is a trip down memory lane.  this for Evelyn who is waiting, and i might guess wondering.

it was cold and dark and he was almost three and sitting at the dining room table at 6 in the morning i could not imagine what i would do with this little boy for the next twelve hours on a cold yucky day.  and so an hour or so later, much to the dismay of my plan everything three weeks in advance husband, and my isn’t-it-too (soon, loud, dirty, dangerous)-husband, Q and i were sitting on a train watching the little towns along the hudson rivers wander past our window.  There is nothing in the world better to an almost three year old boy than to be on a train standing on the seat looking out the window.  so many of his books were trains, buses, cars,  transportation.  it’s big in a boys life.   where are we going today?  it was almost the first thing he would say every morning, and i would have to tell him a place, any place, as long as it wasn’t; nowhere.  we’re going to the cafe, the library, the grocery store.  anything was good.  but when i said we’re taking a train, well that was something.

i had a plan.  we would take every form of transportation we could afford.  the helicopter tour of manhattan was out, but the car, the train, the bus, the subway and his all time favorite; the taxi were all in.

getting off the train he looked like i imagine i looked when at 19 i stepped off the bus onto the streets of Athens for the first time.  wondering, waiting, expectant, thrilled.

he walked with his little hand reaching up to mine.  we stood in the middle of grand central station, near the clock, and looked up at the ceiling.  stars on the ceiling and drawings.  people rushing around, workers working.  staircases leading to landings floating above us and staircases leading down under archways to a destination we could only imagine.  we walked down the arcade of stores and took the escalator down into the subway.  a musician played a guitar and we gave him a quarter and he smiled.  the train zoomed, rushed, pushed the air up all around us making our sweaters blow up and around, thrilling.  it’s thrilling watching a child be thrilled.  it seeps into you and rises like a flood.  The Subway!!  the doors sweep open and we move out of the way of the people getting off and then we become the passengers, the subway riders.  he won’t sit, he must stand, like the others, two small feet planted on either side of the pole and two small hands gripping the pole and his face staring down the aisle and everyone who bothered to look, to take a moment and see the boy not three feet tall on his first subway ride, they all smiled.  they were having an ordinary day and he was having his most thrilling moment yet.

at another stop two young women got on board and stood near us.  they stood close together, tatoos, clothes, hair, all twin-like in their details, almost tribal in their adherence to a certain city chic.  they noticed him noticing them and they smiled, said something, he smiled, and then they went back to the cacoon they were weaving around them and they whispered and staired into each others eyes and kissed.

Q stared, his eyes widened and then he said loudly, to make sure his voice beat out the sound of the train ‘mom!  girls!  kissing!’

and so finally we had everyone’s attention.  all heads turned toward us, some eyebrows raised, some smiles, and the two girls laughed and bent down and kissed him.  ‘sweet boy’ they cooed.

he had never imagined, when looking at the pictures in his transportation book (and the train goes choo choo and the car goes honk honk) that there might be kisses and smiles and music.  it was magical.  and that was it, the beginning of  his love affair with the city.  he was my city boy.  no doubt my mountain climber, forest explorer, river wader, but now too, city boy.  the world, every part of it, would be a wonder for him.  he was in love.  and i, being his mom, could only stand by and watch his love affair, and tag along as long as he would let me.  even then i knew there would come a day where he would board a train, or a bus or a plane, and he would be off looking to make his discoveries on his own.

but that day was ours, together, and it would be forever.