lincoln-center

How My Grown Children and I (Separately) Enjoy Summer

While I write this during a fine June weekend in 2017, my son is getting ready to set off with friends to the San Juan Islands near his wooded, waterfront property on Washington State’s Puget Sound. His agenda will involve his favorite watersports including kayaking, kneeboarding, and wakeboarding. As for my daughter and her husband, they are already headed out with their two young sons (my precious grandsons!) for a weeklong camping trip to Lake Tahoe in the Sierra Nevada Mountains not far from their home in Utah.

Me? I’m single now (my ex-husband died some time ago) and still happily ensconced in New York City where my children were born. My plans involve a lazy Saturday in my Upper West Side apartment in Manhattan, catching up on reading and then ordering in Chinese. On Sunday I’ll be meeting a friend for a Broadway matinée. He’s treating me because he wants to celebrate some recent good news I got regarding a health scare that turned out to be nothing!

The clear divergence in my activities and my children’s probably stems from the fact that I always told my son and daughter to follow their own stars. They definitely did exactly that! When they were growing up, we took them to Broadway shows and ballet performances and museums and out to dinner. They currently do enjoy those activities on occasion, but they gravitated to outdoorsy lifestyles that hold no interest for me at all! Back in 2012, I wrote in a thirdAGE blog this passage: “Because of my penchant for avoiding the ‘great outdoors,’ somebody once wisecracked that my idea of roughing it is a sidewalk café. Not true. My idea of roughing it is a table near the window so I can look out at the sidewalk café. Whenever I sit at a café in the city, the noise and fumes spoil my meal, not to mention the conversation. And a sidewalk café in resort towns invariably involves flies and bees.”

My point is that in the same way that I’m immeasurably glad my children have grown up to live in ways that make them happy, I’m also delighted that I get to live in a way that makes me happy. We see each other once or twice a year, but the rest of the time we Skype and text to stay in touch. I do wish I could be with my grandsons more often, although I envision a time when they might turn the tables and decide that NYC is where they want to settle down. In fact when the older boy was seven and visiting me in my studio apartment (the NYC realtor euphemism for one room with a kitchenette and a bathroom), Shaler said, “Nana, I like it here in New York City! I loved going to the Museum of Natural History and the ballet and eating at the restaurant! Maybe when I grow up I could get a room in your hotel so we could be neighbors.” I’m all for that! In the meantime, though, I’m thrilled to hear about my family’s far-flung adventures even as I revel in my own version of leisure fun.