Family Weekend

I woke up on Tuesday morning, and for a minute, forgot where I was. I was thinking about our family all being together over the weekend. Then as I became more awake, I realized that there were only three of us in the house again. We were back in Colorado and back to our new reality….

As I took a walk today around one of our local lakes, I looked at the yellow and green trees a little bit more closely and wished for the bright orange, red, and yellow colors that burst from the trees this past weekend in New England. The trees would have been gorgeous regardless because I was getting to see my daughter. But I noticed that upon my return, I am missing the reds and the volume of trees.

Visiting my daughter is obviously a more personal and interesting memory for me that may not be as interesting to read about so I thought I'd just provide highlights and my own thoughts that may bring up your own memories of special places or times...

Pre-flight
The moment at the check-in counter where we are told that we are the only ones on the stand-by list and that there was a good chance that we would make it on the direct flight to Boston. “Yes!” I sent a million prayers of thanks. The direct flight was the only way to get to K early enough to see her that evening. The four other routes that we had mapped out would have had us getting to Boston after midnight. In preparation for the unknown, M kept saying all week, “We have to look at this as an adventure.” I kept telling myself that if someone was visiting a loved one who had just returned from Iraq, or if someone was going to visit a sick loved one, I would want them to have our seats and I would understand. I was trying to think of examples that were more important than my own desire to see my daughter after a six-week absence. I had to find a way to be okay with it if we didn’t get on. At the same time, I kept visualizing that we were taking her to dinner in hopes that positive thinking would win out.

Experiencing Italian
On Saturday evening we sat in a small family-owned Italian restaurant on Hanover Street in the North End talking like it was a normal family outing. The conversation did not stand out as much as the feeling of being together again. I also realized that six weeks had produced more growth in K because of her new experiences of having to figure out college and a new city far from home, where as the six weeks did not produce as much of a change in D because his life continued pretty much in the same way.

The North End has a neighborhood feel even if it is in the middle of a large city. There are fancier restaurants within the North End, but this one had a family-oriented appeal. The written specials on construction paper outside the little restaurant even had appeal; though, don't let the low-key appearance fool you - prices are still higher in the North End compared to other non-touristy designations within the city.

The owner, Joe* stood in the doorway in his white t-shirt looking up and down the street talking to locals as they walked by. I couldn’t help but think of Sopranos and wondered how much of a stereo-type that television series created for Italians. I wonder how Italians, in general, feel about that show; if it bothers them as much as shows about African-Americans might bother them because of stereo-type assumptions? Then, I wondered how different it was to live in an Italian neighborhood in Boston compared to New York City remembering our visit to NYC in December 2001 where we ate at a similar family-oriented restaurant while on a holiday trip.

Several times while we were eating dinner, Joe would yell his wife’s name, “Julia*!”from the front of the restaurant as they decided where to seat families. Their voices were loud and passionate as they worked together. M spent the rest of the evening chucking and yelling "Julia" at me in his attempted accent. I have a feeling we will hear this expression again when talking about this trip since he was tickled by the exchange. Somehow eating at these tiny, family-oriented restaurants produce the same nostalgic feeling of being together as a family. It isn’t about the food as much as it is about the companionship. (Though, I would highly recommend the spinach ravioli!) I am still attached to the memories at a little Italian restaurant, Romanos, that my dad's family still loves to visit in Littleton for their pizza and bread sticks. The restaurant opened the year I was born, and we still feel like it is part of our own family memories. I can easily say that it was the first restaurant my parents took me as a baby and now, 41 years later, we occasionally still take my own children there with their great grandparents.

*names are changed.

Caffe - not café
After dinner at Joe's, :) we went right across the street to the same dessert “caffe” that T & P took us to last time we were in Boston, Caffe Paradiso. It is common in the North End that dessert is not served at a restaurant so that folks visit the pastry shops and dessert caffes (note that the Italian version of the word is caffe and not the French version, café). M & I had “dessert” coffee while D had chocolate mousse and K had gelato. Last spring, K and I started having our Saturday afternoon chats over gelato at a local ice-cream shop. I miss those hours together. This caffe felt more like a contemporary adult audience, but D loved the dessert. We’ve decided we like this place a lot and will go back as often as possible. K reminded D that she had asked him to go get ice-cream with me and to talk with me after she left, which he hadn't mentioned.

"Smile; life is good": Visiting Portsmouth
On Sunday morning, we picked K up and drove up to Portsmouth, NH, which is about an hour and a half north-east of Boston. Our plan was to take the kids to lunch at the Portsmouth Brewery again (I love their Chicken Pesto sandwich) and walk around the town for the afternoon. We immediately fell back into the family car routine: D playing a video game, K reading a book, M driving, and me… well I didn’t fall asleep until the way back so I did pretty well since usually I fall asleep which an hour on any lengthy car drive. :)

While we walked around the town, I kept looking for a friend of mine, L, that I had taught with who had recently moved to Portsmouth. I thought by chance I might see her, even though over 25,000 people live there. Well, of course, I didn’t, but one never knows. :) Our afternoon in Portsmouth will be remembered through a mug that I bought for K. On one side it reads, “Life is good” and on the other side it reads, “Smile.” The sentimental fool that I am wanted her to have something to remember our weekend by.

Sunday afternoon in Boston
After a couple of hours of walking and talking, we drove back to the T station and rode the T back into Boston to walk around. We came out of the T at Park Place where one walks up into the to public park: the Boston Commons. We took D through the cemetery where Ben Franklin’s family is buried as well as the supposed real Mother Goose. The cemetery is surrounded by three building walls – some of the headstones are even built into the buildings. Then, we walked along a portion of the Freedom Trail. K took me by the Borders where she had called me one Sunday afternoon as she was out exploring. We stopped at the Bell in the Hand and sat in our favorite corner window table looking out at the people walking by. While D watched the football game, K and I talked about her experiences so far and speculating about what was ahead in her next four years.

After our afternoon walk, we met up with T, P, and their son for dinner in Harvard at John Harvard’s. We chose this restaurant because we met T and P here for lunch in October 2006 and had such a good time that we thought it would be a kid-friendly place to revisit. The evening went far too fast, but it is nice to know we can see them more often and that they are there for K when we can't be.

In closing
That evening as we went to sleep, I felt the complete satisfaction that my family was with me. We were all together as K had decided to spend the night at the hotel with us. On Monday morning we had just enough time to shop for a television and winter boots for K, set up the TV in her room, eat lunch, and drop her off as M, D, and I headed back to the airport for our flight home. It was pretty basic day, but it was just nice to be together.

Serendipity
But one last story… as we were almost to the end of the wait to see if we would get on the flight home, M looks up and says, “Hey, isn’t that your friend, L?”
Sure enough, L was flying back on the same flight to visit family and friends. Better yet, we ended up sitting next to each other for the four hour flight allowing us to catch up. How is that for serendipity?

Just 5 more weeks...
After seeing K this weekend, I now know I can make it until Thanksgiving… now, just 5 and a half weeks away! Then, my family will be under one roof again even if it is just for 5 days. My reminder this autumn has been to treasure these family moments knowing that they are few and far between. We can never take time together for granted, even though it is easy to slip into old routines and let time swiftly go by as we get caught up in our daily routines.