I watched the sun rise over Lake Michigan in Door County, then watched the setting sun make the buildings in downtown Chicago look like spires of light as I drove through the city to pick up Charna and Hannah and take them to dinner before we went to watch my grandson and his band. It was a long day and I’m still a little tired. I’m trying to rearrange my appointments and drive back to Pittsburgh tomorrow. I feel like I’ve been away long enough.
Korean ancestor at the Cleveland Museum, could be one of mine
Drove to Chicago last Tuesday. Getting ready on Monday I gave some thought to food for the car. My worst fear about this drive is that I might fall asleep. I’ve found it helpful to have something to nibble on and I try to get things that are not fattening or unhealthy. Deciding I had enough, with mushrooms, carrots and a box of peanut butter Puffins, I did not go out and shop, although I really wanted fruit. After all, I told myself, I’m not going to the end of the world, but the truth is the turnpike might as well be nowhere. Finally got bananas a week later.
Spent the night in a motel near Toledo. Chicago is really a one day drive from Pittsburgh, but I’ve been breaking it up to make sure I don’t get too tired. I stopped at the art museum in Cleveland, which has finally reopened their Japanese and Korean galleries. Very nice, but not nearly enough on display.
The next day I stopped in Elkhart, Indiana and toured an old house called Ruthmere. It was named after a child who died before the age of one and is situated near the conjunction of two rivers, known as a mere. The house was not nearly as interesting as the story about it. Those two days were very hot, I think the warmest days we’ve had all summer. I wanted to stop at a big flea market in Indiana, but didn’t think I could tolerate the heat and sunshine. Picked up Charna at her job and we had dinner with Barbara and Fred. The next morning we went out to Waldheim Cemetery to visit her namesake.
I never told you about my last few days in New York. Saturday evening we went to Lincoln Center to see HD Opera Outdoors. The plaza in front of the opera house was filled with chairs and a large screen set up on the building. The performance was La Traviata, the same one I had seen a few weeks ago. I enjoyed it just as much the second time.
On Sunday I went to Brooklyn with C. We started at the Brooklyn Museum then walked over what seemed like half of Brooklyn. She wore me out, but I love being with her. Monday I went to lunch with Sybille and then went to the Eldridge Street Synagogue Museum., where we were given a tour of this wonderfully restored old building.
Tuesday I got up very early, 4:30 am, and got on the 6:30 bus back to Pittsburgh. Everything was great until we were almost here and got into a terrible traffic tie-up. I think I won’t take the bus again: probably back to the train. I have two weeks here in the ‘burgh then I’m off to Chicago and Door County; art camp again.
Our family, including Renee from New York, went to Chicago last Friday (6/14) for Charna’s graduation: two days of special festivities. Friday’s presentation, a baccalaureate service full of school-spirit and college talent, was held in the huge, packed Rockefeller Chapel. Unfortunately we were seated near the back and had trouble seeing and hearing. In my tenure at the University almost no school spirit was ever exhibited, so I found this presentation somewhat strange.
Twenty thousand people were seated in the main quadrangle on Saturday prepared to be rained on. The University has no venue large enough to hold the families, friends and graduates gathered together in one place.
It wasn’t anything like I experienced when I graduated. My college class had 400 students, one of the smallest in the university’s history. This class had 1300 from the college and large numbers from the graduate and professional schools. The other difference, which I loved, was the great diversity of the participants. My college class had 3 African Americans and 397 white people, mostly Christian or Jewish. I don’t think there were even many Catholics. Today’s convocation had people from all over the world and Charna graduated from college (with honors), not like her old grandma who barely made it.
After all the festivities the week became bittersweet, not with my usual nostalgia, but this time reality could not be ignored. My first visit was to Carol, who is now in hospice with lung cancer (and still smoking). Seeing her was a heartbreaking experience, only relieved by the presence my nephew and family, including my 10-month old great, great niece. She’s adorable, but the great, great part makes me feel very old.
The remainder of the week was much the same. One of my friends fell about a month ago and is having a terrible time recovering. I spent as much time with her as possible, broken up with visits to healthy relatives in beautiful places and additional visits with Eli, Charna and Hannah, Eli’s committed partner. I like her a lot; hope she remains with him.
On Friday I went to the Art Institute with Sandy. We saw a great photography show and all together had a fine day.
I planned to go to three other gardens, but couldn’t find them. As I walked sort of aimlessly, trying to figure out where to go next, I passed a shop that sold some lovely scarves, aprons, which I don’t normally wear but these looked so nice, and yukatas. I bought 2 scarves, 2 aprons and a yukata for myself. Most of the other stuff will be for presents. At that point I returned to the hotel, not too far away, to get rid of my heavy package.
It was a very warm, sunny day, not the kind of weather I thrive in, so I hung out at the hotel for a couple of hours figuring out where to go next. Finally got back on the bus and went to Anrakuji, one of the few gardens I never visited on the eastern edge of Kyoto.
This temple is actually at the foot of the mountains, requiring a walk from the bus stop. The temple looked closed and I was disappointed until I saw some other people open a door in the gate and walk in. So, I followed. I don’t know if any of us were supposed to be there, but we weren’t thrown out, and I was able to walk around as long as I wanted.
I am writing this on Friday evening, morning in the US, and just heard, on NPR, there was an earthquake near northern Japan. I never felt anything and don’t expect any consequences in this area, so don’t worry about me.
The flight to Chicago was uneventful. Returning to Chicago is always filled with nostalgia for me, and this time, a little shock. The airport in Pittsburgh is, unfortunately, a very quiet place, a little backwater. The organized chaos of O’Hare took me by surprise.
My first feeling I no longer knew how to proceed at O’Hare was quickly dispelled as I realized I had arrived at Terminal 2 and had to proceed through an inside revolving door to Terminal 3 to get my bag. It’s been that way for years. Originally a military airbase, called Orchard Field, I think O’Hare had only 2 terminals when it first opened as a civilian airport. It was quite small and served as a kind of satellite to Midway, which was the original Chicago airport. My first flight, in 1953, was out of Midway in a propeller plane. While I was in college I would sometimes drive out to Midway with a date and we would we would park along a fence and watch the planes take off, and amongst other things, sit and eat doughnut holes, sold at an outlet store for some doughnut manufacturer I no longer remember that was on the way..
Over the years O’Hare grew to 4 terminals with a Hilton Hotel in the center. They enlarged it further by putting a tunnel under the hotel and more areas for passengers to meet or depart from ground transportation. This is the part that’s been really confusing to me, but this time I finally figured it out.
I usually try to fly into Midway when I come to the city so I’ve had limited experience with O’Hare in recent years. So this was kind of fun.
The hotel shuttle returned me to O’Hare and I took the blue line train to downtown Chicago and met the grandchildren, who are no longer children, along with one of my dearest friends and we all had dinner. This morning I again took the shuttle back to the airport and now I’m sitting on the plane watching the flight path on the little video. I had enough frequent flier miles to go business class both ways and it’s great. I love all the space.
One more paragraph and I’m going to sleep. Finally got to the hotel and I can’t keep my eyes open. Good night.
I am sitting in a temporary rental apartment in Chicago with Robin and Steve and friends from New Jersey. Because of having the friends here I have this sense of displacement: I can’t quite believe I’m in Chicago, but I know I’m not in New York. I wonder if this is the beginning of senility.
We had a wonderful Thanksgiving with Eli, Charna and three of his friends. The loft was much enhanced from its previous state that I saw last summer. The kids made most of the food with additions made by Robin and Ilana. We are all vegetarians (much more serious than me) so no turkey. I don’t miss it at all. The veggie dishes are much more interesting.
We flew in from Pittsburgh on Wednesday. I went to visit Betty; Robin and Steve went to the apartment and met up with their friends. Unfortunately, Steve had an accident and fractured a bone in his leg. So he’s on crutches and will be for the next three or four weeks. He’s having a lot of trouble sitting still.
Steve with bionic crutches
Good thing he brought work with him.
September 11, 2001, was also a Tuesday, a beautiful autumn day. My brother, Arvin, and sister-in-law, Carol, were visiting from Florida and I took a few days off to be with them. They were staying in a hotel about a mile from my apartment, which overlooked the George Washington bridge. We were supposed to take the boat trip around Manhattan, but went on Monday instead, also a beautiful day and not the predicted rainy mess.
I woke up my usual 5:30 but stayed in bed another hour or so, enjoying my leisure and looking forward to spending more time with Arvin and Carol. My constant early morning companion, the New York Public Radio station, was speaking calmly to me as I drank my tea and ate my breakfast. It seemed like a perfect day–until just before 9 when the announcer said in a calm voice, that a plane just crashed into one of the World Trade Center towers. I don’t remember exactly what he said. I think he expressed some confusion, but no panic, not until the second plane crashed into the other tower.
I don’t remember the exact chain of events. Traffic backed up on the highway crossing the bridge. Somehow, immediately, Manhattan was closed, isolated, no one could move and the congestion remained all day and into the night. I called my brother and found they didn’t know what happened, only knew the highway outside of the hotel was filled with noisy, horn-blowing vehicles. They packed up and left, only to spend most of the day trying to leave New Jersey in the other direction. No one went anywhere that day.
I was alone in my apartment, horrified and grief stricken–almost feeling paralyzed. From my terrace I could see all the backed up traffic, and in the other direction, the smoke clouding the towers twenty miles away. Later I could see the smoke and no towers, smell the terrible, chemical, electrical odor I have never experienced before or after. Much later, when people spoke about their fears of further attacks I realized my mind never went there. I dealt only with the moment, never thought about what else might happen. Finally, late in the afternoon, I got in the car and drove 5 miles west to be with my grandchildren. It took only 15 minutes to get to them. It took an hour and a half to get home; I lived too close to Manhattan.
This was my year to think about fear, or maybe lack of imagination. I don’t anticipate fear; I certainly feel it when I am confronted with danger. After the attack one of my Chicago cousins asked me if I was afraid of living so close to Manhattan. I thought about it for a long time and realized my only fear was of being hit by a truck as I made my daily trip across the bridge.
Last month I took that same boat trip. Here are some pictures of New York Harbor with the Freedom Tower rising where the World Trade Center towers had so dominated the skyline.
I am in a motel in the middle of Indiana; alone for the first time in two weeks. It feels strange, but I’m enjoying it. I always have mixed feelings about being with other people; I love it, but I also love being alone.
I spent my first week in Chicago at Sandy’s home and visited with most of my family and friends. All week I had the feeling my father was waiting to see me. This morning, I again spent time with family; feeling as I left that I was going to see my dad. Strange how I almost feel like I am revisiting my childhood each time I return. Here I am, the matriarch of the family and I return to childhood.
None of this happens when I am in Pittsburgh. There I am just another old lady, attending classes and still trying to organize my workspace.
It was a great week. I saw 3 nephews (and 1 great nephew), 3 cousins, 2 grandchildren (1 two times and 1 three times), 1 friend twice (and much of her family), stayed with another friend, and friend #3 arrived Friday. All of this took place during 3 breakfasts, several lunches, 2 special dinners and far too much time in the car. But busy as I was, I felt wonderful. I have come to the conclusion that living in the whirlwind is good for me; I need all that stimulation. Today is the day we go to Door County. Someone else will drive and I am thinking about giving my eyes a rest and not putting in the contact lenses. Eventually, I do get tired.
100 Books Before I Die 