“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.” ~ F. Scott Fitzgerald

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.” ~ F. Scott Fitzgerald

When Mom and I had to put our annual Mother’s Day weekend trip to Broadway on hold when Dad’s health declined to the point where she couldn’t leave him alone, I made my peace with it because I knew that as long as we weren’t going, that meant Dad was still around. This month we were able to return to our tradition, and there was something bittersweet about it all – and something healing and caring about it as well. As we traverse the first year without him, we are finding our way around milestones like Mother’s Day and doing our best. In this case, our return to New York formed a lovely distraction, as well as moments ripe for remembrance. 

We arrived to a gray day of rain and midtown congestion – oh that congestion is real – and ended up exiting the car ride early because we saw it would be quicker, even in the rain, to walk eight blocks rather than wait half an hour to make the same distance. Welcome to NY, which has only gotten more annoying since last we visited. That was a whopping five years ago, leaving plenty of time for change. 

Rather than try to squeeze in three or four shows, we settled on two, prefaced by two dinners and buffered by some shopping and a walk in Central Park. On this first day, however, after a brief bit of shopping in the rain, we settled in to a sushi dinner at Fushimi before our first show – ‘The Who’s Tommy’.

Having never seen the original Broadway production, or the source movie-musical material, this was my introduction to ‘The Who’s Tommy’ and it was a visually-spectacular, if slightly convoluted on plot and storyline. It’s certainly a dynamic and energized show, and it makes the most of current technological projections and video effects. Its rollicking score is one of the main strengths, and the music manages to lift a meandering narrative. We walked back to the hotel through the bombastic Friday night which was just getting underway.

After an early excursion to the re-opened Century 21 (not worth the trip downtown) we took the subway to the Upper West Side, arriving at the edge of Central Park. On this beautifully sunny Saturday, we took our time walking through the park, then doing a little more shopping. When the city starts to feel too loud and claustrophobic (twin evils of necessity when attending shows on Broadway) breaks in Central Park have always provided a welcome respite from the heaviness. It set us up nicely for a little break before our last dinner and show of this trip…