Rambling post

My son didn't go to class today. Instead he had to go down to court and get himself excused from jury duty till his paramedic training is done. He got through early, and so he's hanging out here for the rest of the day, as we're all going to see my wonderful accountant tonight, to sign off on our taxes. Lewis has done my taxes ever since I was a brand new working girl making hardly anything at Life magazine in the eighties. The first few years, Lewis didn't even charge me. Later, when I got married, he folded in my husband's taxes, and now he does my children's taxes as well, and this year, even my children's partner's taxes. He is such a gift in our lives as he demystifies this annual crazy-making ritual. Bless him.

My daughter and her boyfriend took care of an elderly French bulldog this past weekend, and that old guy kind of broke our hearts. His paws were all swollen and bent, his eyes were rheumy and watery and we think quite blind, he couldn't lie down without great effort and apparent pain, and there were bald pink patches on his skin. Those two cared for that dog in such a beautiful way. It moved me to see it. The dog's owner had dropped off a sleeping crate for him with no blankets, just a hard plastic floor. My girl and her guy made the coziest nest for the old Frenchie in there, and he seemed at peace in the presence of their tender care.

Later, I went walking with the them around the neighborhood, a Sunday evening twilight stroll, the air turning chilly, the wind whipping up, and I thought how lovely it is to live one building away from your grown child. I am very conscious not to drop in unannounced, or be too demanding simply because of proximity, because I want them to love living nearby, too. I adore when our girl or her guy drops by to borrow a certain pot, or to grocery shop in our pantry, or to introduce us to the latest dog they're sitting for, or to watch Survivor together on a Wednesday evening. There is truly nothing I enjoy more than being in the company of my husband and children (including my niece) and their loves. I can only imagine how much more expansive that feeling will be when grandchildren become part of the picture. Not rushing anything!

In other news, yesterday I had my first meeting with the subject of the new book I am ghostwriting, and it could not have gone better. We met in a diner in Brooklyn, and though the ambient noise made the recording of our conversation difficult to hear, we waded right into the deep places of her story. My hope, always, is to forge a bond of warmth and trust with my subject, and I believe we made a good start on that yesterday. Last night, in bed, the first chapter of her book started coming to me, and I began typing furiously into the notes app on my phone, excited to be writing so soon in the process. We are talking again by phone this afternoon. There is a kind of intimacy that can happen in phone conversations once you've made a connection in person. I hope this will be the case for us, as she's an incredibly busy woman, traveling all the time, and I want this process to feel easy for her, not disruptive. Today, I am exhaling in a major way. What I am feeling in this moment is abject relief. Hopeful optimism. And gratitude.

Isn't that a beautiful garden? The photo was taken in the front yard of my cousin's home in Jamaica. Aunt Grace is there, and last night we video chatted for a delightful hour. She's 91 years old and she was vibrant. I told her she looked tanned. She said she's been swimming daily in her daughter's pool, then shared that she hadn't been in the pool since she was last in it with my mom, her beloved sister, nine years ago. I still remember the photos they took back then. My mom, on the left in the pool picture, was still up and moving around, before Parkinson's robbed her of her mobility, and then her life. Aunt Grace, the only remaining one of her nine siblings, misses her sisters and brothers intensely. But she has wonderful children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. I don't know if they are the source of her joyful spirit or if she is the source of theirs.

Apropos of nothing, I've been binge watching the legal drama Suits, which is pleasantly undemanding, starring the future princess Meghan Markle. Can you believe the House of Windsor is displaying such equanimity about the fact that one of the royals is marrying an African-American woman? It makes me think the world has evolved a bit, all evidence to the contrary. Now look at the photo of the prince and his bride to be. To me, they look exactly alike. Identically shaped nose. Similar beaming smile. Same joy.

Happy Tuesday, gentle friends. I am glad to be with you here.