She arrives on Sunday. Takes a five-hour bus from Falmouth. Drops her bags at my apartment. Then takes two local buses to Saks where I'm working. After that my mom goes to meet her new great granddaughter. And then has dinner out with Alexander and me. Hard to believe she is really 86.
On Monday my mom stops by Bloomingdales, then visits the baby again, comes back here to watch a movie, and then we all have dinner at T-Bar with Valerie, Abbey and Jason.
My mom awakes on Tuesday and asks, "What should we do today?" I half-heartedly suggest museums, and am grateful when she rejects the idea. We both feel like hanging around inside, and decide instead to play some cards. Something I never tire of doing with my mom, especially since beating her at gin is a monumental and unusual event — which I do in a stress-inducing, neck-in-neck game.
We had planned to have dinner at Tony Di Napoli's, one of my mom's favorite restaurants in New York. My mom loves southern Italian food. But the mid-20's weather makes ordering in the better choice.
This morning my mom is up by six. She goes to the local bagel place to bring some of New York's best back to Cape Cod. She returns and has a quick cup of coffee, and says her good-byes by 7:30. Her bus leaves from Port Authority at 9:30, but my mom is taking no chances. Who knows, traffic could be heavy. A surprise snow storm could hit. You just never know.
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