Keys to Adventure, Lost & Found

Sunrise [from our condo balcony] snapped by Figgy 
on a school morning this fall. 

It's uncanny, but sometimes H. and I have come this close to losing some pretty important things. I just drove from Clifton to Montclair Sunday [hell night with Punch] for a pumpkin glow event at Van Dyk Manor, which drew hundreds of people. It wasn't until I was driving back to the condo that I realized I had put my Lilly Pulitzer wallet on the roof of the car, when I was getting Punch into her car seat. But there it was, still on my roof, even after two hours parked at the pumpkin glow and a three-point turn on North Mountain Avenue.

Other ridiculously lucky near misses:

1. Cape May honesty. H. and I went to a Victorian bed and breakfast in Cape May for a few days. Close to departure, we meandered past the parking lot [across from the hotel, no guards], and I noticed our keys, hanging out of the hatchback on our little blue Honda Civic. Anyone could have taken them out and driven away with our car. We didn't realize they were missing. In our defense, we were young back then.
2. Cross-country scare. We drove across America in that same tiny car for two weeks the summer before we married. H. was writing 60-Second Novels along the way on his old Remington typewriter. [I flew back to work after we reached California, but H. drove back, writing more stories as he went.] In Cleveland, he set up his typewriter to do novels at a street festival. After we got into the car that night, he realized his wallet was gone. He wasn't sure if he had placed it on the roof of the car before we drove off, or if he had been pickpocketed. It had contained some cash that people paid him for the stories, plus some of our money for the trip. A trucker later found it on the side of the highway, and called H.'s Mom, up in Maine. The cash was gone, but the gold-hearted trucker mailed the wallet back. Poor Mary was worried--these were the days before cell phones. And my Sis was worried too, since she was staying at my apartment at the shore, and heard Mary leave a nervous message on my answering machine about a trucker finding H.'s wallet. 
3. Cape Cod luck. I have a very, very special set of keys to the North Eastham house--a set Dad gave me. His small red pocket knife hangs from the ring, and the bronze keys have little hand-written stickers on them, on which he had neatly written "FRONT DOOR" and "INSIDE DOOR." The stickers remain, but the ink is worn away after years and years of being carried in my pocket, backpack or beach bag--on the bike path, at Nauset Light Beach, on the ferry to Nantucket or at Great Pond. One trip, I had attached a spare car key to this set. And we drove all the way home, 300 miles, me telling H. how bad I felt that I lost those special keys. They make me feel like Dad is watching out for me when I unlock the door on Wonderstrand Way. Again, Lady Luck was on our side--when we arrived home with Figgy in the dark five hours later [after driving routes 6, 195 and 95, the Tappan Zee and the Parkway, with a couple of stops for food, caffeine, fuel and bathroom breaks], there were the keys, dangling from the trunk lock. I felt so relieved. They are one of my most precious treasures--keys to happy memories and refreshing breaks. Keys to the house my parents built.
4. A jewel in the snow. One of my favorite stories is one Dad tells about sledding in the Bronx when he was about 12. In the snow, he found a gold school ring with a red stone, from St. Catharine's Academy. I couldn't imagine what St. Catharine's Academy was, he says. I had never heard of it. But after college, when he met a pretty brunette in the carpool to Lederle Labs in Pearl River, NY, he found out. My mother and her close friends had attended the girls' school when it was in Washington Heights. I have the ring now. It has the year 1942 on it. Since my mother was born in August 1924, she would have been 18 at that time. Now I'm confused. Have to ask Dad tomorrow if this ring was Mom's, or the one he found. I know for sure that she had a golden basketball charm from St. Catharine's, b/c she played on the team. In any case, the ruby ring Dad found buried in the soft drifts was a very big clue to his future. 

Feeling fortunate--and like I want to start wearing this ring, as a reminder of all that was and all that can be. Of connections made and lucky days. Good night.

Per my faithful Wikipedia: St. Catharine High School is an all-girls, private Roman Catholic high school in the Bronx, New York. The Sisters of Mercy, founded by Mother Catherine McAuley in Dublin, Ireland, opened an Academy in the Washington Heights section of New York City in September 1889. At that time, the first Academy resembled the large estates which surrounded it. Toward the end of the century as registration increased, the Sisters erected a new building across the street at 539 West 152nd Street. In 1900 the University of the State of New York granted a Regents charter to the school.

Connections

Glad I could Go & Grab just before the clock struck midnight. 

I've decided I will no longer take connections for granted, no longer take them in stride. When things connect, I am grateful. Making one connection enables us to make the next one. Top 10 connections I'm thankful for today:

1. H. and the tire. I had to rush to the city, H. was bustling around getting everything ready for his and Figgy's 450-mile drive to Maine. I connected with him to remind him about the nail in the right front tire that caused the tire to go quite flat last week. He was able to connect with the guy at the gas station, just by stopping by, so the nail could be removed and tire patched. Connection made.
2. Bus to NYC. As at my house in Montclair, I now know precisely how much wiggle room I have before I need to bolt out the door from this condo in Clifton and make haste to the corner. When to apply the lip gloss at leisure [rarely], when to toss it in the tote bag. But as I'm hurrying, I think to myself, If I don't miss this bus, I'm going to be very lucky, and very grateful that things worked out in my favor. When I sit in that seat, I'm going to breathe a sigh of gratitude and relief. Because if I miss this bus, the next one could be a whole hour later. That will throw my entire day off and cause me great stress. I will miss my appointment.
3. The waiting cab. Okay, its A.C. could have been better [I am a polar bear] but it got me from the Port Authority to 85th and Madison [another appt. at the doctor's] in exactly 14 minutes, so even though my bus had been caught in traffic, I was only four minutes late. And though I would have liked to walk the whole way, which would have been free and fit, I sat back and enjoyed the view, especially along Central Park West near the Museum of Natural History and the Teddy Roosevelt statue. I enjoyed the connection I made.
4. Reaching the hospital care manager. I'd missed two connections--one when she called me mid-appointment--but was able to catch her before she left for the day, so we could get the conversation going re. where Dad will go next. Person-to-person and family connections mean everything.
5. Connecting with nature. Oh, Central Park. I love it. I walked back from the Upper East Side to Columbus Circle, then to the Port. Soaked up views of the Lake and boathouse, Bethesda Fountain with its pretty lily pads, the grassy fields, the lovely trees, the big ancient rocks and sloping hills, the happy dogs being walked by their owners. 
6. Clicking with my new favorite cup of coffee. Why would I ever go to Starbucks again? I happened upon The Cafe at the Plaza Hotel, when I decided to check out the hotel's retail shop level [enter on 58th Street] purely for window shopping. It was only $2.72 for a delicious iced coffee. I was afraid it might be $7. And it felt so great to sit and sip it in a high-backed, light blue velvet chair. So elegant. Want to go with Sis and Figgy [the afternoon tea we three used to go to at the Plaza every Christmas season with Edie is now $45 to $55 per person].
7. Getting help in the nick of time. John is the very nice concierge here at AVE Clifton. There are several, but he is stellar. I couldn't get my work file to open up on the Dells in the business center or the Macs in the fancy lobby or Figgy's Mac in the condo tonight....but I asked John before his shift ended at 11 P.M., and he was able to open it on the front desk computer. He even stayed till 11:06 doing it for me. 
8. Inching the Mernins' minivan out of the parking spot. Anne and Michael have generously lent us their third car. Tonight I had to get it out from a spot next to a giant silver pickup truck that had wedged itself practically on top of it. This time, I was grateful, very grateful, to not make a connection, to not brush that shiny, expensive car with the Mernins' van. It took a lot of shimmying in and backing out, in baby steps, but I did it.
9. Racing my cart into Stop & Shop before it closed at midnight. True, the lights were out in the dairy aisle when I was grabbing cottage cheese and skim milk, but I raced to the cashier and made it. We didn't have a single morsel of dry food left for Sug, so I really had to get some before the store closed. Mission accomplished. 
10. Mad Men! Sacrificed my Sunday night viewing to go see the movie Eclipse with Figgy and friend last night at 10:20 and am so glad I did. But we don't have On Demand at the condo, so wasn't sure when I would catch the episode. Clicked on TV at 12:40 A.M. and there it was. Connection of my bottom to condo couch made, remote in hand, smile on face.