As of 4:30 PM, Friday the 28th, I am no longer a property owner in New Orleans—my almost 5-year nightmare ended just days before the start of a new hurricane season, one predicted to be severe. I was too afraid that something might happen to postpone the closing to plan a celebration, but two friends were celebrating birthdays last weekend and at each we raised a glass to my freedom.
And Sunday I leave for New York, a belated 60th birthday present from one of my closest friends. We were planning a spa trip but when she suggested we change to a few days in NY as tourists, I jumped at it. Rubbing and aroma-therapy are great but right now I need a cultural infusion more—I’ll get to see Fela and Race, Picasso’s exhibit at the Met and walk the streets of the city that was my home for 30 years and acquaint myself with its new rhythm—New York has changed significantly since I left in 2005.
Before I return to Mexico, I’m going to Atlanta for a couple of days to see two of my mom’s closest friends, women who have been second mothers to me who at 89 and 91 aren’t as spry as they used to be. Roberta taught me to speak-up and speak plain. Georgia was the first actress I knew and kindled my interest in theatre.
Sorrow always seems to accompany joy these days—the day before the house closed I found out that one of my dearest friend’s cancer has come back with a vengeance. Life used to deliver of periods of unbridled joy. I didn’t know o relish them, I’ll be more appreciative if they come again.
No comments:
Post a Comment