A promise is a promise, and once I'd finally filed the taxes this afternoon, I set to keeping it.
Every little bit, I'd call to the daughter, "Do you want this? Or this? What day should we...?" And she would dance around or be contemplative, give me a high five.
I think she is very excited.
The boys get left behind this time; this is a girls only trip. Because it is us, the trip will be filled with museums and parks and, most unexpectedly, a cat that the daughter is quite determined to meet.
It's been a long time since I was last in New York, and I know things have changed, and I dread how visible some of that will be. I've already told the daughter there are certain areas we will avoid; I refused to go near the Pentagon two years ago. Even after nearly 10 years, some things are too raw and probably always will be.
But! The Metropolitan Museum of Art. I remember how excited I was to see it the first time because I'd been such a fan of From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E Frankweiler. Unsurprisingly, the daughter is giddy to see it for exactly the same reason. Mummies, another cat, a fountain, if possible.
It still bothers me that I missed this opportunity two years ago, but there it is. For now, I am done with a few really huge things, though there is plenty more yet to come.
For now, I can rest.
Go listen to some good music: "On Broadway," made famous by The Drifters and recorded by many other artists. I always think of Bob Fosse's All That Jazz when I hear it.