Today is the first day of the last week of taking care of Owen in Brooklyn.
As I get ready to walk to Owen’s house, I am filled with gratitude and a little grief. Yesterday I took a walk in the park — Ft. Greene Park — on what might have been our last sunny day. Forecasts this week call for lots of rain.
My daughter Kate challenged me to take some video before I left and to share them with those of you who have followed my adventures in the last year. I did a series of short videos to remind myself of yesterday’s light-filled moments.
First, I explain the connection I feel to a grove of Sycamore trees. I remember similar trees in our yard in the 1960’s at the farmhouse on Newport Road in Lititz, PA, where I grew up and where five generations of my family (Snyders and Hersheys) farmed. The Sycamores still provide shade to the house in its current incarnation as Forgotten Seasons Bed & Breakfast.
Brooklyn, NY, and Lititz, PA, like many places in the East, claim histories that predate the revolutionary war. Old trees may not go back quite that far, but they remind us of the deep past that remains rooted, like a tree that grows in Brooklyn, in the present.
Next, I took a very short video explaining connections between Ft. Greene Park and the rich literary history of Brooklyn.
Today, rain has poured down in Brooklyn, matching my inner world.
No matter how sunny, no video, photo, or blog post, will take the place of Owen’s chubby arms around my neck. Our shared laughter and applause for each new accomplishment will fade as memories with time. So this week there will be more hugs and kisses than usual.
What words are adequate to times like these?
I once woke up in a Catholic retreat center with a hymn playing softly on the intercom. Today I remembered the words of that hymn.
“All I ask of you is forever to remember me as loving you.”
What has helped you part from places or people you love? I could use your wisdom and your thoughts!