New York City with my Girlie, Day Four: Saturday, December 10, 2016 and Merry Christmas!

It feels very appropriate to be writing about my final full day with H in New York City as Christmas lies in wait for us all just around the bend of this evening. Our trip was one touched with festive cheer, togetherness, and the kindness of strangers. I want to begin this post by thanking each and every one of you for your readership. What that really boils down to is a thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of your care and support. Taking time out of your busy days to read my words means more to me than you can imagine. Thank you for your words of encouragement, for your comments and feedback, for making me feel worth your time. Christmas elf that I am, I've been listening to the music of the season almost non-stop this month. One song that I've found lodged in my brain during these weeks is Jewel's 'Hands (Christmas version)'. Particularly her lyrics, "In the end, only kindness matters," have been recited again and again through my brain and, more often than not, wind up on my lips, as I've been known to both sing and talk to myself. Thank you for your kindness.

H and I began our day at what was becoming our traditional breakfast spot, 'Le Pain Quotidien'. She enjoyed waffles with Belgian chocolate (because EVERYTHING'S better with Belgian chocolate on it!) and I had le petit dejeuner, consisting of a croissant, bread basket, hard-boiled egg, latte and o.j. (let the record show that the croissant was delicious, but surely would have been even better yet covered in Belgian chocolate!). From here we set out on a walk through the East side of Central Park, where we were able to walk alongside and cheer on countless runners who were participating in a 15km race. Central Park, my favourite place in New York City bar none, offers 843 acres of park space including running and walking trails, peaceful green space, sculptures, bridges, fountains, lakes, an ice rink, rocky perches and countless memorable spaces for people seeking respite from the busy urban centre that is NYC. H and I savoured our time here together.

We meandered our way up to 82nd Street where we reached the Met. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, oft called "the Met", is the largest art museum in the U.S.A. We were excited to spend the day at this sixth attraction on our City Pass, and were astounded by the vast collection and diversity of exhibitions boasted by this amazing museum. 

Ready for the Met!

Claude Monet's 'Bridge Over a Pond of Water Lilies'.

Vincent van Gogh's 'Cypresses' was a favourite of both of ours.

Edgar Degas' 'The Little Fourteen-Year-Old Dancer'.

 

Charles Engelhard Court, the American Wing.

The Temple of Dendur room;
beautiful views of Central Park are visible through the glass wall on the right.

We spent over five hours at the Met, and could've easily spent days there, but Central Park called to us on this last New York afternoon of ours. While we'd eaten lunch in the museum, we picked up some fries from a street vendor for an afternoon snack and ate them in the Park. Strolling along the beautiful Reservoir, we were amused by a small waterbird that looked rather like a wayward duckling, but seemed to be acting very unducklingish. This little feathered cutie continuously submerged itself for lengthy periods of time, and then popped up long after the time that we thought he should have, eliciting giggles from us as we looked on and admired his determination.

Dusk approached when we reached Strawberry Fields, a landscaped section of Central Park dedicated to the memory of former Beatle John Lennon. His song 'Imagine' and the ideal of peace that it inspires is immortalized in a memorial mosaic at this spot.

The day had been a full one and we both agreed that we wanted nothing more than to stop at what we'd come to call "our Christmas market" one last time and then head back to our hotel for an early evening. We grabbed a bite to eat and some hot apple cider, and it was as we were strolling through the warmly lit aisles cradling our warm cups that we began to hear some merry tunes. We followed the music and came to an open space where some spirited carolers were belting out some creatively altered Christmas songs. The group was called GAG: Gays Against Guns, and their hilarious anti-Trump lyrics had a serious underlying message which the small leaflet that one of their members passed out to us stated thus: "33,000 Americans die each year in gun-related violence. The NRA spent $52 million to elect Donald Trump. . . Join forces with GAG - don't let the NRA and Trump steal any more Christmases!" Since both H's and my faith in politics and all things turning out right in the end had been shaken with the U.S. election results last month, hearing these courageous carolers proclaiming their ideals and values for all to hear with Trump's own hotel a mere stone's throw away reminded us that there are people who are willing to stand up for what they believe is right, and we bopped happily and sang along when we could. Check out the YouTube link here to check out the rollicking tune, "Donny the Con Man" sung to the tune of "Frosty the Snowman" by GAG! 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VT-HW2lUsZ8

Our day was winding to a close, though we still wanted to have our daily dose of macarons before leaving the market. And H still had a plan of her own . . . while we stood in line at the macaron hut, H asked me if she could have some time to go walk around the market a bit. And in those next few seconds before I answered her, my brain leapt in turmoil from possibility to possibility, headline to headline, CSI episode to episode (actually, it could only focus on a singular of those, as I couldn't stomach more than the one episode I ever saw of that series). Of course back at home H is at an age where she and her friends go to the movies on their own, walking to the theatre from a nearby friend's house. But this was New York City! I was all but certain that any shot I'd ever had of winning that coveted 'Parent of the Year' award was slipping from my grasp, and ironically it seemed this would be the case no matter what decision I made in this instant. I thought back to one of the previous days when we had seen a young girl who looked to be around H's age. She was marching along with a backpack all on her own, presumably heading home after her day at school. We'd commented on the funny feeling elicited when on vacation seeing everything through the eyes of a tourist, and then seeing people who live there, going about their normal, everyday routines. So I tried to ask myself how I would react to H's question if we were at the Christkindlmarkt that we have back in our home town, and I spoke aloud my answer: "Yes." Of course we synchronized our watches, set out parameters, and agreed that she would be right back in front of me at the macaron hut in less than ten minutes. The longest ten minutes of my life, they were . . . I willed my feet to stay put and not to follow down the aisle after her, though the temptation to do so and keep her in my sights was strong. I tried to stand there casually, me and my macarons, checking my watch what felt like every few minutes but what wound up being every few seconds. And lo and behold, there she eventually appeared, returning well within her ten-minute curfew. Her face beamed with a sheepish grin as she approached me, keeping her arms behind her back, and I think I really breathed again for the first time since she'd left my sight. She arrived in front of me and swung her arms and the bag they were holding around and out to me, happily exclaiming, "Happy belated birthday, Mom!" The warmest feeling flooded over and through me as I took in this beautiful and amazingly thoughtful girlie before me, and I knew right then that this was one of those moments that I will remember for all of my days to come. I will never forget the rapt look of joy on her face as I unpacked the small package in the bag, a lovely handmade mosaic picture frame that I'd admired during one of our earlier visits to the market. I will never forget her bright eyes as she rushed to tell me that the kind vendor had remembered her from the last time we'd been there. I will never forget this New York minute when I saw my first-born as the young woman she's becoming, and I'll treasure this memory forevermore.

We walked hand-in-hand back out through the market, and up the street to our hotel, where we got cozy, savoured our macarons, and even played a game of cards before turning in. The following day was our travel day, though we woke early enough to enjoy one final breakfast at 'Le Pain Quotidien'. Our flight was slightly delayed due to snowy weather in Toronto, but luckily we were able to take off and arrived home in the middle of the afternoon with yet enough time to catch up with our loved ones whom we'd missed so. 

Day Four's macaron selections: Chocolate Raspberry and Earl Grey.

Macarons to share with our family at home!

Our final breakfast in NYC.

The lovely, handmade mosaic frame H gave to me; I've since put in a photo from our trip :)

Thank you for reading. "In the end, only kindness matters." Indeed. It is the moments of kindness extended to us by others, and the kindness that we extend to those around us that we will remember, and that creates a life of joy. I wish you all a very Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, Happy Kwanzaa or simply a wonderful holiday shared with those near and dear to you!