“And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.” ~
The majestic art nouveau style of La Grande Boucherie provided a pleasant backdrop for our dinner before the final show we were seeing, ‘The Great Gatsby’, and memories of Dad surfaced during the meal, as they had during the whole weekend. While Dad wasn’t a part of our Mother’s Day weekends on Broadway, he was always there waiting for us when we returned. He had also accompanied us for various shows over the years – I’d seen the original production of ‘Sunset Boulevard’ with him, in keeping with my insistence that anyone who meant anything to me see that show, and I still remember his enthusiastic cheering at the end of the song ‘This Time Next Year‘. I missed seeing that smile, but I was comforted by memories of our last visit to NY together to see ‘Come From Away’. Dad had already begun his decline, but he rallied and walked around with us, having dinner and enjoying the show, hearing aids and all.
Mom and I shared a wonderful dinner, amid large vases of flowering cherry tree branches and soaring ceilings, starting with this delicious tuna tartare. It rekindled a memory of a dinner at La Grenouille, reminding us of previous jaunts in the city. As annoying as NY can be, it makes up for it with elements of enchantment that cannot be found elsewhere.
After dinner we wandered a block or two over to the Broadway Theatre, where we finally got to see the jewel of our Broadway weekend – ‘The Great Gatsby’ – and while I was mixed on my reaction, it certainly conjured the atmosphere and opulence of the Gatsby environment. That’s enough for a substantial bit of magic.
It was a good ending for our return to Broadway, and a nice embrace of a happy tradition, even as it was made possible by bittersweet events. Being with Mom for Mother’s Day weekend was a gift in itself. The next morning we took the train back home, where Andy was waiting with an early Mother’s Day dinner.
The backyard was ablaze with the blooms of lilacs – the sweet perfume a reminder of spring and renewal, and starting over again. A Mother’s Day worthy of the beauty and grace of my Mom.
“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.” ~
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