Expect the Unexpected

Who would have guessed that I would finally find rest in the city "that never sleeps"?  Who would have imagined that I would get primo seating to see Placido Domingo at the Met on my last day in rainy New York?  Or that I wouldn't cry at the 9/11 memorial, but felt like crying with joy at the splashy joyful "American in Paris" on Broadway?  Who could possibly entertain a glass of wine for $25 or a simple steak for $45?  Yes - all true -- New York appears to be the city where the unexpected is alive and well, and you need your "don't know mind" with you.
One of the great gifts of this adventure was my arriving at a place of rest in my bed at night, dog tired from all our trekking during the day.  Since my insomnia started last fall I have felt plagued by this affliction of no rest, and my brain became ragged and wonky and silly under the influence of sleeping pills.  And the second night I was in the vibrating city, in midtown Manhattan, I turned the light off without taking my dose, and I slept.  Granddaughter Riley was communing with her Kindle close by, the bed was comfortable, the curtains drawn, and the room quiet.  And I slept.  It has been a little less than two weeks since I took medication, and I feel like boasting and shouting in delight...
I walked and walked and walked in New York, and my cranky tendonitis softened.  How was this?  It was cold as hell, and I had no coat, and yet I escorted this young woman through the city and felt a subtle elation -- I was back in a place that I knew, I was with this girl whom I loved and wanted to love me, and I was looking at art, theater, food, and opera - the best of the best - how could I not feel happiness?
I think it was all about love, yes I do.  Love of an old home, of art, of all the memories from when I was Riley's age growing up in New York, and of this young person on the brink of becoming a woman.  And perhaps her love of me...  When love is present, there is safety and comfort.  And when there's safety and comfort, we can rest, we can let it all go.  In this hysterical and magical city, I could let it all go.  And not work so hard anymore to manage my life.
The memories are still crystal clear, and the warm feelings rest in my heart.  I am glad I live in a less complicated city like San Francisco, but I'm also very happy to have been a citizen of Manhattan back in the 60's when everyone's life was less complicated, and quite innocent.  It makes sense to return in our minds to those times of goodwill and hope when we are faced with as many horrors as surround us today.  Yes, humans are complicated, ignorant and greedy, but the presence of love between us is the great winning force.
I am grateful, I am hopeful, I can sleep and laugh and play and write again.