This September it was your month, as it has been since you are gone. For some reason (maybe because I'm in L.A., and they were showing Casablanca on the screen of some bar I went to last night), I cannot help but remember a particular happy day we shared, one of the last ones we had.
It was summer in NY, I had just graduated from NYU and both you and my grandpa were there, witnessing every moment of the Commencement ceremony and the speeches and the band and the long purple waves of students marching towards Washington Square Park.
That night, we went to dinner to the Waterclub. J's friend worked there, and we were stuffing ourselves with oysters and lobster and foie gras. There was a piano man playing in the background, and then "As time goes by" started filling the air. Without saying anything, my grandfather extended his hand towards you, across the table, a little smile on his face. Still quiet, you took his hand and together, holding hands like teenagers in love, headed towards the small floor space by the piano. And then, you danced. Everybody at the restaurant cheered when the music stopped.
Thank you, wherever you are, for showing me that love can still be there after 55 years together. I still cry whenever I remember the look on your faces when you came back to the table.
So much love.
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