Riding the Train Home From New York

Train Trip Going Home from New York December 16 2009


We roll through swamps and rocky forest,

As the sun sets and darkness falls.

Bare winter trees reflect perfectly

In glassy swampland pools.

At every stop now in the South , the lazy diphthongs

In the talk that swirls around me

Gently replace New Yorkers’ tumbling words.

We’ve just passed Fredricksburg,

Where you and I went on this train 9 years ago

So you could meet my daughter

And she could know in person who you were.

“I don’t need more mothers!”

She defiantly proclaimed to us at dinner –

All of us became then ill at ease – uncertain what to say or do.

It was a necessary beginning.

We plunged in, unsure of how to make the introduction,

And love and comfort grew from our initial doubts.



The sky turns red -- black skeletons of trees stand starkly silhouetted –

As I now turn away from New York fantasy and train ride memories,

And know in hours I’ll return to our last empty house

And find my grieving heart again.


Reflection

I am so grateful that I was able to spend these last 8 days in a swirl of New York friends and holiday season events. You feel more present in New York than in North Carolina, and indeed you are. In North Carolina, you were ill, hampered, slowed down. You spent your youth and prime in New York, and I find your energetic imprint there in the city you loved and embodied. People there remember you, your competence, your strength, your generosity. Fleetingly, I catch glimpses of faces or hear snatches of speech that remind me of you.

I also find there in the ceaseless pulse of activity and events a lift in spirits – similar to the effect of a strong morning cup of coffee on alertness and involvement. And the strength of the city, like a rushing river current, carries me along more rapidly toward forging new connections with life on my own.

Amid the turbulence of city life, I see that people everywhere do the same sorts of things in patching together a life. They come together, eat potluck food, enjoy amateur performances by members of their own groups, get caught up in the visionary momentum of responding to social problems, attend meetings, play games, enjoy jokes, worship in close-knit and sometimes contentious communities, worry about impending threats to the status quo, keep in touch with neighbors and help them out in moments of need, light Hanukkah candles or decorate a tree – and occasionally they enjoy a special performance or event – a highlight that punctuates daily life with an exclamation point. Whether the Philharmonic or a holiday social, punctuation marks are wonderful. They give us pause, direct our flow of feelings and thoughts, help us to synchronize with others.

This trip, as a giant exclamation point, has enhanced connections and insights for me, created some beautiful and exciting memories , and provided hints of potentially exciting projects.

I’m grateful for everyone and everything that made it possible.