A Trip to the Big Apple

Back in February, I started planning a summer trip to New York City for the girls and me.

Why New York? Because Mike wanted to take them there. During the pandemic, he started talking about the first family vacation we were going to take as soon as it was safe enough to travel. He started talking about New York, which probably ranks as one of his top 3 favorite cities in the world.

Although Mike wasn't a New Yorker, his parents were both born and raised there. Mike spent a lot of time in the city and had many fond memories there.

When we were together, Mike introduced me to New York. In our trips there, he played tourist and tour guide, both, to see the city through my eyes. He visited new places he'd never been because these were places that interested me: the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Museum of Modern Art, Broadway, fancy restaurants. So in a way, he experienced the Big Apple in ways he never had before. I loved that. As did he.

For the girls, Mike made a running list as he and I talked about his fantasy vacation. We never wrote any of it down, but I know it by heart:

• pizza at John's on Bleecker;

• pizza at Grimaldi's;

• corned beef on rye at 2nd Ave Deli;

• bagels (anywhere in Manhattan!);

• Central Park;

• the Intrepid Sea, Air, & Space Museum;

• Times Square;

• Broadway;

• a walk across the Brooklyn Bridge.

This list felt important, and I felt the urge -- no, the obigation -- to fulfill it.

And so I started putting together a plan. I checked our summer schedules (because these kids are busy!) and booked our flights and our hotel.

As I considered our activities, I at first found myself restricting our plans to "Mike's List". But then it started to feel somewhat depressing. Just imagine it:

"Okay, girls, tonight we're eating at John's. Dad wanted you to try their pizza.... Yes, tomorrow we're going to the Intrepid Museum because Dad wanted to show it to you."

Ugh.

Then it occurred to me that Mike would never have planned a trip like that had he been here to do it. He would've said, "That's my list. What's on yours?"

And for that matter, he would have asked the girls the same thing.

So in the months leading up to our trip, the girls and I added to Mike's List:

"I want to see the Statue of Liberty!"

"Can we see a Broadway show?"

"Did you know that Billy Joel will be playing at Madison Square Garden while we are there?"

"I want to see art in a big museum!"

So in mid-July, We. Did. All. The. Things.

And then some.

A grand time we had!

We even found that Mike's favorite sandwich place in all the world (that he and I had discovered in Florence, Italy) had opened a shop in Manhattan. And we ate there. Twice.

We "brought Mike" everywhere with us. I told the girls stories of some of our experiences on past trips as we retraced some of our steps. We tried to imagine what Mike would say as we roamed the city. We toasted him when we sat down at one of his restaurant recommendations, and the girls said, "Thank you, Daddy," just as they would have if he had been with us.

We returned home with our hearts full, feeling so much gratitude for this privilege. This gift. Our grand adventure.

I, for one, felt this tremendous sense of wholeness for our family which I had been missing for a very long time. Mike had felt very present on this trip, and not at all distant and mysterious the way he had until then. He felt like a part of us, not just in memory, but in reality.

I realize now that the longer he's gone, the less he is part of our daily routines. The farther we are walking away from our life with him.

So in experiencing a trip as he might have masterminded, we claimed him back in our lives. Back into our active, collective consciousness.

For a week.

And it was marvelous in every way.