I should be feeling on top of the world right now. I just came home from a wonderful trip to New York City that I shared with a lovely group of women that included my daughters, granddaughter and a long time friend who is like a daughter to me. We enjoyed the sights and food and kinship over the Fourth of July weekend. We spent days together being open and honest about our feelings and opinions. It was incredible to feel so comfortable just being ourselves without having to filter how we acted or what we said. Just realizing that it was okay to do and say whatever came to mind knowing that we would still deeply love each other was the best aspect of our adventures. 

We dined at a posh Israeli restaurant and imbibed at a bar near NYU. We were floored by a performance of Cabaret and cried openly and frequently at the 9/11 museum. We met cab and Uber drivers from around the world who were excited about being in the United States. We enjoyed the food and the people watching in a Russian restaurant and piano bar. We walked through St. Patricks Cathedral where we said our private prayers then hoofed it to Bergdorf Goodman to drool at fashions that none of us will ever be able to afford. We marveled at the Metropolitan Museum and sang along with the tunes at a showing of Chicago. We rode on the subway from one end of New York City to the other, trying Taylor’s Swift’s favorite lipstick and munching on food from India, China, Italy and a local deli. All the while everyone we encountered was friendly and helpful, not at all like the stereotypes that are too often hurled at the fabulous city and its people. 

I might describe each aspect of our brief tour in great detail but what stood out the most to me was how much we humans have in common no matter where our origins began or how we look or speak. Everyone everywhere enjoys kindness. It takes so little to produce smiles on people’s faces and we saw so many wherever we went. Even the initially grouchy woman working all day selling art in the hot sun on a street corner relaxed and grinned when I chatted with her. 

All of the ugly myths that I heard about New York City and its people were simply false in my view. I never had to stand on the subway, which was very clean by the way, because some nice young person always gave me a seat. Nobody pushed me aside because my aching knees slowed my gait. Everyone was eager to help and every place was inviting, even those not on the usual visitor’s list. We never felt afraid or insulted, in fact it was just the opposite. I have rarely been so respected just for being an older woman. I was accorded so much consideration even from the TSA agent who remained patient while I fumbled and bumbled.

My return to my own city stole away some of the joy that I was feeling. Perhaps it was the long delay of my flight which got me home at two thirty in the morning when I was supposed to arrive at around six the evening before. Mostly, I was deeply saddened by the floods in the Texas Hill Country in places that are so dear to my heart. I’ve been there so many times that I can easily envision how lovely and peaceful they were before tragedy wreaked its havoc. I have cried for those affected by so much loss. I have felt helpless in wondering what I might do for them. I was stunned by the horror of how the last moments of life had been for those who died. Somehow all of the joy that I felt on my trip seemed trivial and maybe even a bit inappropriate given what had happened. 

Still, all of it made me focus on what was most important about my trip, namely the wonder of my relationship with the incredible women who shared those days with me. It made me more deeply appreciate that we were able to set aside our worries and just be present in the moments with each other. For those many hours we were in a wonderful world filled with love and laughter that can’t be bought at any price. Perhaps others saw that and thus responded to us in kind. What we had was a memory that will always be a blessing no matter what our futures may be. 

I’ve come back home to bad news in the political world and irritations at home, but my mind keeps being reminded of the glorious feelings that we had just knowing that we are loved. It is a story repeated over and over again and it is the way that we will overcome any troubles in the future. We are assured that we have each other and with that knowledge nothing else matters much. Still, my heart weeps for those who are suffering and my joy is tempered even as I know that they are remembering their own joyous times with loved ones who are now gone. We must be kind to them. The days ahead will be difficult.