There are five very important males in my life: my husband Peter, our two sons, and our two grandsons. I never get enough time with any of them (except maybe Peter). But I especially miss our older son Seth who, as The New York Times' Frugal Traveler, is the hardest to pin down for some quality time simply because he's on the road or in his second home in Brazil more than he is in New York.
So when we had him all to ourselves in New York City for forty-five hours last weekend, it was pure joy.
Photo by Seth Kugel
It didn't matter that we got to the Museum of Natural History too late to get tickets for its blockbuster exhibit on the brain, or that there were umbrella-breaking winds and torrential rain on Saturday. It didn't matter that there were no cabs as we made our way to Lincoln Center and therefore missed the first fifteen minutes of War Horse. Or that we had to walk through ankle-deep puddles to hail a cab afterwards.
What was important about the weekend was that we were part of his life. We ate at restaurants he likes. We had coffee at a café where he often writes. We rode his subway. We laughed through a play starring Chris Rock that has a word in the title that I don't feel comfortable saying, let alone writing. He was completely generous with his time.
I remember that my mother always asked me when I would be back again after my visits home. I understand how much it means to have a next visit on the calendar, and we don't have that. But this time, I left without my usual tears.
I was so grateful for my son time.