Her Majesty

It had been forty-one years since our last reunion. Her face showed lines I didn’t remember. Rain and wind seized the sunlight as we traveled in her direction. The last time I had seen her, my dad was with me. Now I was a grandmother. She had seen tragedy but stood regal.

We left the boat and dashed into the coffee shop. My husband, Bill, chose to let me visit her alone. Bill had worked eighteen years in “the city” as he called it, and enjoyed watching me be the tourist. The wind threatened to steal the Golden Tiger baseball cap he had earned at his Clemson University class reunion. Clutching my umbrella and camera I hurried to her side.

The wind turned my umbrella inside out as I held it in one hand and took her picture with the other. Her cheeks were streaked with what appeared to be black tears.

This was Miss Liberty; if she could talk what tales she could tell. The faces of the hopeful as they approached Ellis Island, tranquil sunsets, parades of tourists, renovations, world championships, and the horror of the charred ruins of the World Trade Center.

I thought of how much my dad enjoyed our visits to New York when I was a child. It was a different New York then; and now many are afraid to visit America’s city. The glare of Times Square hasn’t changed; just the signs. The sidewalks are still shellacked with humanity. Restaurants still offer cuisine beyond expectations. Bill and I thrilled to the Broadway hit, “Movin’ Out,” a tapestry of Billy Joel’s music trimmed with the choreography of Twyla Tharp.

Names written in neon brought back cherished memories:  my mother in yellow chiffon dancing with my dad in the Rainbow Room; my sister’s exasperated face as I emulated the high kicks of the Rockettes on the sidewalk outside of Radio City Music Hall; our family’s excitement as my sister competed for a spot on “The Price is Right” within NBC Studios.

At sunset we took our place to sail toward New England, away from the upraised torch of Miss Liberty. The crowd pressed me into the ship’s railing as I promised Her Majesty my return.