I drove over the Brooklyn Bridge this morning. It was my first time. The Bridge is my favorite one in this city of bridges, it has a grandiosity to its architecture and yet a democratic energy with the throngs of people walking across on the walkway, stopping to stare at the harbor stretched out below, the Lady Liberty in view over by the southern corner of Manhattan. I couldn’t linger over the beauty, obviously, or I would have plummeted to my death, but I felt a thrill … a real thrill … at the sheer size and beauty of the bridge, with the giant towers flanking the ends and the huge swooping cables coming up, coming down … not to mention the view, which is enough to take your breath away.
I had left plenty of time … too much, actually, and was an hour early for the baby shower. Brooklyn Heights is so beautiful and quiet, with wooden houses beside brownstones, and dormer windows, and tiny cafes, closed on Sunday morning, and the sound of church bells in the air. I found a parking spot, and grabbed my book and took a walk. I did find a tiny hole-in-the-wall cafe that was open and grabbed a cup of coffee, and then went to sit in the park. It was pretty cold. No one was in the park. I sat on a bench, gloves on, and drank my coffee, reading Who Will Run the Frog Hospital? by Lorrie Moore. It was still early enough that not too many people were out and about.
Then I went back to my car to get my giftbag. As I closed the door, I saw a woman walking down the empty street holding an enormous box with a pink glittery bow. I figured, she’s going where I’m going and followed her directly to the shower.
It was held in a gorgeous house, full of light and artwork and beautiful artifacts, gorgeous old books, and everyone was nice and friendly. I hadn’t really wanted to go because this has been the raw-est week to end all raw weeks – and I feel exhausted – but this is family. I knew there would be people there who knew what was going on, my sister would be there, and really, when you get right down to it, it’s all about showing your love. It’s important. There was food laid out, and wine and coffee … weird to have a glass of red wine at 11:30 a.m., but what the hell. More people came. My uncle Tony and aunt Marianne arrived. They are here in town for the shower but also to go see their daughter Kerry in White Christmas (for, what, the 8th time?) … a one-two punch. The second I saw Tony in the lobby I lost it and he hugged me and we both started crying. I was so right to come. The love of family. You do what you have to do. You are there for each other. That’s just what you do.
My aunt Regina arrived, my sister Siobhan … so we all stood around talking, and it was just so good to be there, to be with people who love me, and who are there for me. I have the best family.
Lydia was wearing a black knit dress and looked fabulous. From the front you couldn’t tell she was pregnant at all. Her friends are really nice, I chatted with many of them … and then came the gift-opening extravaganza. These teensy onesies on display, these adorable little pajamas, so small you can’t believe a human body would ever fit into them … all these women, beautiful, all of them, some mothers, some not … all oohing and ahhing and making comments. You know, it’s easy (too easy) to get cynical sometimes about such events. I think that’s a great mistake. I have done it myself. Or I let my self-pity balloon into something monstrous, which ruins the whole thing for me. It clouds my perspective. But when I looked around the room at all the faces, I just saw love. Love for Lydia, love for Liam, and love for the baby that was soon to make its appearance. Lydia’s mother crocheted the baby a beautiful blue and white blanket, and everyone went nuts over it, which then sparked a whole conversation about crocheting, knitting, and crafts, in general.
In that room, I could feel the goodness of people. Almost like a light was emanating from everyone.
Because you know what? In the end, even with all the bullshit and difficulties of life, people, in general, are just doing their best, and it is really important to remember that. I am doing my best right now. It may come out awkwardly, or emotionally, and I may forget to call people back, or need more alone time than I normally do … but honestly. I am doing my best. I think it is important to cut each other lots of slack. Even if someone appears to be freaking out or over-reacting. Because you know what? Maybe that person is just doing her best.
Longfellow wrote:
Believe me, every man has his secret sorrows,
which the world knows not; and oftimes
we call a man cold, when he is only sad.
And so with all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.
Wonderfully put, Sheila.
Thinking of you. With love.
You were in my neighborhood! Had I known, I would have put on a pot of coffee and let you kill time in my toasty apartment. Although, your method of passing time sounded more than ideal. Sometimes I love to just be outside, by myself, doing my thing.
Sorry to hear about the rough week. I’ve got you and your family in my thoughts.
Curly – damn, next time definitely! Your ‘hood is so cute it makes me want to shoot myself in the face because I don’t live there!! I was glad to see it on a Sunday morning, too, before it properly woke up.
Jayne – thank you, friend.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
Yes. You recognize the quote. Yes.
Ok, I was feeling sad/meloncholy/touched then I read your “I want to shoot myself in the face” comment and GUFFAWED!! Only you, Sheila, only you… I love you, woman!!!! Sending much, much positive energy your way.
Beth – hahahahahahaha Yeah, really, like … I know you like the neighborhood, Sheila, but don’t you think shooting yourself IN THE FACE in response to it is a bit extreme???
Ha!!
So nice to read this, and so true. FWIW, good thoughts sent from this quarter.
Ha ha! I too am guilty of associating violent acts with things I find pleasing. Like, “That puppy is so cute, I just want to smash it.” And I tend to roll with a crowd that would respond to such a statement in complete agreement instead of, you know, utter horror. This is what we do.
I think there’s a literary walk in Brooklyn Heights. I’ve never gone on it but I’d like to. Let me know if you’re interested and I’ll investigate. Failing that, we can hang out on my front stoop and wait and see if Gabriel Byrne walks by. He lives on my block!
I am so sorry I missed this. I would have loved to have been there. And my parents have seen the show now 15 times. Hahaha! Don’t we have the best parents, you and I?
I love you, Sheila!
I’m a little behind on reading your blog so unsure as to why “…this has been the raw-est week to end all raw weeks”, doesn’t really matter though regarding my thought.
“People are just doing the best they can with what they have”
You aren’t “behind” in anything, Mark. I usually don’t share what’s going on in my real life on my site. So you haven’t missed anything.
Kerry – Yes, we missed you! It was soo good to see your parents – your dad only briefly, but I got to hang out with your mom quite a bit.
Lydia got some great stuff, too!
FYI: The Brooklyn Historical Society website (left menu-Publications) has both Walking Tour Guides (Brooklyn Heights and Park Slope) and Neighborhood Guides of Brooklyn.
I had a teacher thing there a couple of weeks ago, so I just found out about it and I’m excited to share.
I’m bummed I hadn’t brought my camera. I need to do a little photographer’s field trip.
That is a beautiful post. Love, family, environment and all those trappings that make life wonderful. Thanks for writing it.
Sheila,
This is so true, raw and from the heart.
It really struck me, because the other day I wrote on our kitchen chalkboard “do your best” meaning just that…
You have been in my thoughts.
p.s. How funny was the Rocky exchange between you and Bill…loved it!
xox
i wish i had gone to the shower it sounded great.
you are great-can’t wait to see you for thanksgiving…
and btw Desiderata is one of my favorite pieces
“go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.”
i think this is very important when preparing for a gathering of 2 or more o’malleys