2012 January 03

3. Something you adore: old photographs of my mom and dad
January 3, 2012

My mom and dad have been married for 30 years. It’ll be 31 years this August.

They first met in 1976, three years after my dad had his accident.

I think to tell this story fully, you need the background information first. It’s the most amazing miracle I’ve ever heard and it’s the reason my sister and I are here today.

In 1973 my dad was in a life-threatening car accident. He was thrown from a jeep 4 days before Christmas and landed on his head. He was with his friend and was in the passenger side of the car, and he was not wearing a seatbelt (as most people didn’t in those days). They were coming home from getting a Christmas tree and were hit by another car in the middle of a snowstorm.

He was in a coma for 3 months and he barely survived.

I still get shaky every time I think about it. What it was like for his mom and dad, for his brothers, for his friends. They did not think he would survive, and even if he did, they thought the damage to his brain would be too great to recover from.

But he did survive.

He survived.

He woke from the coma, a miracle in and of itself, but it was only the beginning of an incredibly long road to recovery.

He needed to re-learn everything. Everything. How to eat, how to walk, how to talk. The right side of his body was paralyzed from the impact of the fall. Slowly with the help of many others, my grandmother helped him get back on his feet. My Grandma Grace loved her son too much to let him slip away. In 1975 my grandmother went to the Institute for the Achievement of Human Potential in Philadelphia, PA to learn “patterning”. Patterning is a specific type of rehabilitation for people who’ve had a traumatic brain injury. She patterned him every day. And taught everyone around to help too. My dad was patterned twice a day by 4 or 5 people at a time. He did that program for a year and made so much progress that he was able to go to college.

Still even today, my dad walks with a limp and slurs his speech a little. But he’s the friendliest person alive and has the best outlook on life and the best laugh. I am forever grateful that he’s my dad. Forever and ever and ever.

It was on a weekend night (in a wheelchair) that my dad met my mom in a bar in Syracuse. He was still recovering from his accident, but had made tremendous gains. My dad was out with some friends. My mom was attending Syracuse University for graduate school and was at the bar that same night.

A few years later my dad saw my mom again at a wedding. Another year later, my mom asked my dad’s brother Dean about my dad and how he was doing. Dean told my dad afterwards and pressed him to ask her out. After another year (it took him awhile he says), when my dad was on a school break, he saw her again. Finally, he called and asked her out to dinner. He took her to the Old Stone Mill in Skaneateles. He had a “buy one, get one free” pass and told her they couldn’t get any drinks or dessert.

This makes me laugh harder than anything, because this is perfectly my dad.

He laughs so hard when he tells this part of the story.

He laughs so hard, everyone that’s listening starts laughing too.

Then he says, “Well, then I broke down and we had dessert. And she married me despite all that.”

I love my parents more than anything. I love how they fit so well together and how much they have given me and my sister. Each and every day I admire them and their goodness and grace.

We are so so very blessed to have them.

It’s a miracle, really.

A miracle.

One of the highlights over my week long vacation was taking the train into the city for the day. We have taken day trips into the city for as long as I can remember, and the excitement is just as strong as ever. I love entering the Greenwich train station and walking up to the ticket counter to buy that round-trip ticket. It feels a little bit old fashioned, like not much has changed in that station in the past 20 years. I’m thankful for that. It’s all too often you see ticket machines nowadays. They’re everywhere. But we bought our ticket from an actual man, who was sitting at a desk behind an old-fashioned ticket booth, wearing a uniform and a hat too.

And then the train came and we boarded, ready to glide into New York.

The train ride to Grand Central Station hasn’t changed either since I was a little girl. The ticket man still comes around to clip your ticket and the seats are still that cold, hard leather from so many years ago.

The ride is fairly short, but it feels longer when you’re as excited as I was to be in the most talked about place on earth and on the verge of meeting a new friend.

I loved when the train finally stopped, letting us off into the tunnel, until we finally walked into this:

Grand Central Station in all it’s glory.

Goodness, it’s beautiful.

It’s so beautiful it takes your breath away and you almost have to pinch yourself to make sure it’s actually real.

Takes my breath away every single time.

I made Meg help me look for the secret of Grand Central, which I read about recently over at a Cup of Jo. It’s not so much of a secret (there were tons of people there!), but it was a neat experience all the same.

After that we headed out to 5th Avenue, to the cold air and bustling crowds that is so undoubtedly New York City at Christmas time (or anytime, really). Before I even made it past the first block I bumped into someone (or they bumped into me) and I instantly thought, only in New York. Only in New York are you bumping into people all day long and are barely thinking twice about it.

(One time when I was about 12 and we were visiting the city for the day we bumped into my best friend from home and her mom in Saks 5th Ave. In the middle of this huge store, in this beyond ginormous city, filled with millions of people, we literally walked smack into my friend from Syracuse. It was crazy. And decidedly, an incredibly small world after all.)

We walked past the New York Public Library, past hundreds of classic yellow taxi cabs, and made our way to Rockefeller Center, home of 30 Rock, the famous Christmas tree and the brave tourists who’ve beared the crowds to skate on the famous ice rink.

Then finally, FINALLY! We met up with Molly.

Lovely, sincere, generous Molly who I am ever so glad to have found in this life.

I honestly believe this girl has a heart of gold.

I found Molly through Elizabeth’s blog, and in turn, Elizabeth told Molly about me. Thank you for connecting us, E! I am looking forward to the day we will meet as three.

The second I spotted Molly through the crowd I called out her name and wrapped my arms around that girl so quick.

She is everything I thought she would be and more.

Molly is a wonderful writer. She can touch your heart with her words and I feel so lucky that she connected with me. She reached out in an email that made my heart full, and here we are a short while later meeting up for the day in the city that she now calls home.

The thing about bloggers is that you can know so much about a person before you even meet. It’s nice to know someone so well the first time you get to share a hug. And an instant real-life friendship begins.

And so we spent the rest of the day together, checking all the things off on my list of must-see and dos…

First stop was Eataly, which will be getting it’s own post later this week.

We ordered panninis and grabbed a table for lunch, getting to know each other a little better. Asking real-life friend questions not covered on the internets.

The food was incredible, the space was warm and cozy, and chatting it up with Molly was perfect.

From there we bundled up to walk the streets of the city, heading past the Flat Iron Building and more yellow taxis to one of my favorite shops in NY…

Fishs Eddy!

I try and make a point to visit this shop each time I make a trip to the city, always buying a little souvenier to take home with me. Molly spotted an orange section of goodies and I knew the little patterned dipping bowls had to be mine.

Then it was onto Soho to do a little more shopping, take a coffee break and spend some time with my pretty friend Katie, a best friend from college and a lady of New York.

Dear me, do I love Soho.

I just get a feeling when I’m there, looking around and up high, like a kid in a candy shop. I love the old buildings and pretty shops and colorful apartment buildings. It’s busy with people, and filled with stores to pop into.

We stopped into Balthazar for some snacks.

Hello, that place is ADORABLE.

It’s bakery is suuuuuuuuuper tiny, but to make up for it everything is super delicious. I had a hazelnut hot chocolate and we split a chocolate chip cookie because it was large enough for four. Bittersweet deliciousness that stuck with me through the evening.

(I also picked up a chocolate donut, which was too much for me to eat at the time, but I saved it for the train ride home.)

Our last stop of the day was a little restaurant called Bread, where we stopped to rest and chat with Katie. The day was getting windy and cold so it was the perfect place to rest our legs and get warm. We got a pot of french fries and a couple of tartines and enjoyed the warm light and good company.

Then, it was off to the subway to make our way home.

Thank you for a lovely day, Molly. Thank you for being so wonderfully you, for being so generous and kind. Thank you for spending time with me and my sister and Katie. Thank you for showing us New York and for making our day a special one.

We loved it and we love you!