Evolution -- My Winter Moment

A few weeks ago, Matt and I got to introduce Alice to one of our favorite places on earth: New York City.  We love New York and could go there once a month if only we could afford the extravagant life required of that city: excellent food, amazing theater, museums and perhaps most importantly, roasted almonds from a street vendor pretty much whenever you want them. Heaven.

Alice has been wanting to come with us to New York since she can remember. We first told her she could come when she turned nine. We weren’t quite ready that year.  But this summer, I looked at the calendar and saw that Veteran’s Day was on a Monday in November just after Alice’s 12th birthday weekend,  Plane fare was in the affordable range for the three of us, so plans were made.

We were pretty sure she would love it, but we wondered if she would like it the way we like it -- which is the “get up and go go go go go go because we’re only here four days” way. We had many back up plans set if needed, and when a hurricane paralyzed the city the week before, we knew this time things would be unique.  So we packed up, headed out and brought along a “what will be will be” mind set.

We arrived, took the train from the airport to Manhattan.  I'm not sure what we expected when we walked up from the subway, but suddenly -- there we were. N...Y...C!  Just as it always is. And here was our daughter right by our side!  Through the trip we saw she was old enough to walk along with us, to point out new things to us, to enjoy with us. To shop with me while Matt napped, to explore with Matt while I lingered over painting after painting after painting.

Alice had minimal requests for the trip beyond just doing whatever we did.  She did, however, request a day at the Museum of Natural History. And even though Matt and I had spent a day there on our last trip, we knew there was more to see and we looked forward to it.

That day and the weekend was glorious -- nearly sixty degrees and sunny. It was New York’s antidote to the hurricane -- a second summer. Once in the museum, Alice requested to see two things: the huge whale, and the Easter Island head replica. On our previous trip, we hadn’t seen either. I am not entirely sure how we missed the whale, as it hangs from a room about the size of a cathedral.

But I do know how we missed the Easter Island head. That one was located in a far corner of the museum...definitely off the beaten path (if there is such a thing at that museum). The walk there took us through a series of rooms we also hadn’t seen, one that included a stump from a gargantuan tree. And the final room also included several collections from the anthropologist Margaret Mead who I primarily know from her famous quote, "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has."  The artifacts and stories from her anthropology work were were wonderful, and I never would have seen them if we hadn’t been seeking out the Easter Island head.

This picture captured a special moment -- Alice just standing before the statue and taking it in through her own lens. What a moving experience for us: to see Alice, through her own eye, capturing that image. 

In that moment, I saw evolution. The older Alice was coming more keenly into focus, and the younger little Alice -- “Allie” -- was skipping away. I felt everything -- pride, happiness, mourning, anticipation, fear, gratitude -- but mostly love. What a gift it is to have this girl in my life, taking me new places, seeing things from her own point of view, and growing into a beautiful adult.

The day before we had been to the Guggenheim and I was captured by the exhibit of Picasso’s black and white paintings and sketches. I knew his cubist work came later in his career -- but what I didn’t know is that he went in and out of cubism.  I also know artists are keenly aware of the political and social realities of the world, but I didn’t realize how much Spain’s civil war had influenced Picasso how it was powerfully expressed in his work. He grew. He changed. And so did his world.

(The black and white sketch of this "Woman with Flower Writing" was at the Guggenheim)

When we arrived at the Natural History museum, we ducked into one of the small theaters and watched a short film about scientists in Antarctica, exploring the theory of inflation and using it to find signatures to new black holes...the universe continues to grow and change.

I am always amazed by how even in the physical world, nothing is permanent. At my beloved cabin, islands slowly morph and change over time as chunks of them detach from one island and float off to another.

And so then is my daughter growing and changing -- my skipping little girl in her pink flowered overall shorts with a perpetual stuffy nose -- that little one is fading away and this new long-haired, skinny-jeaned, smart, swimmy and funny young woman is emerging.

As a parent I think we never know how we'll feel as our kids enter each phase of life...and it's not just parenting,  Long-lasting love includes people growing and changing too. 

And I guess my job is to watch, learn and be there.  To be glad when I am there for the happy and learning moments, and be equally glad when I am there for the darker and more frightening moments that adolescence and life always bring. 

I'm glad for the moments.  I'm glad I'm there.