Friday, March 19, 2010

A New Hat and New Mischief

When I was about 15, my mom and I were out in Glens Falls, NY, and we were talking about things in the 40's - mostly, what ladies did when they went out. We had gone to lunch, but were having such a lovely day, Mom said, "...well, when we were in need of lifting our spirits, we would go shopping for a new hat." So we did. I don't remember exactly where we went, but I got a hat. That hat is long gone now, but, tonight, I revisited that sentiment, and discovered something else along the way.

This evening, after a lovely gather of colleagues of past and present at a Tapis Bar,

Las Ramblas at 170 W. 4th, I walked up 6th Avenue. I needed to move and get some air, and the evening was so lovely, it was easy to do. While on my way into a much needed "cup," I spied a purple beret. It was crocheted, acrylic, and BIG. For my head and much thanked for big red hair, I am always looking for bigger than average hats. Though slightly out of season, I asked if I could try it on. I did - it was smashing - with a perfectly proportioned rosette on the front.

On an impulse I bought it and upon my head it sat until I got home.
I did not even care that it may have seemed garish with my dark raspberry colored top; I had a striped scarf to buffer the two warm hues. I was elated; I remembered that day I went hat shopping with my mom - and this was a perfect topper to another great day I had experienced.

But there is more; you see, recently, I have concluded that I lost my olive colored acrylic beret that I bought during chemo two and a half years ago. It has been in several photos of mine; and it's color always highlights my eyes, especially since committing to Redkin 4RC. But it has been missing for over two months; so has the brown one I bought - it's as if they ran off together. I have mourned the loss of those hats; ;mostly the green one, because of the motivations, memories and comfort they brought me. Java had snuggled up and slept on them.

I have let them go.
Whether they are sequestered somewhere in my house or closet or car or classroom not to be found for a long time, or, accidentally thrown away in a mad rush to tidy up, I just don't know. But I do know that I don't need to mourn their loss anymore, I can buy or make MORE hats - any color, and hopefully, any size.

I have to let them go.
I have to allow new hats to enter my life. New hats that will make their own memories, their own mischief, and punctuate various activities that are Annie.

Recently I started another journey that will require me to let things go- to part with the things I no longer need, and maybe don't want. I need to make room in life for NEW things, NEW adventures, NEW tastes, NEW experiences. I cherish the time and the memories of the old hats, but, there are more hats to be worn and loved.

Will I have the courage to do it ??

I believe so - I will simply don my new chapeau, and off I go....

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Spring, or nearly !

It snuck in this weekend. After months of cold and snow and ice and boots and umbrellas and cabs, a preview of Spring tip toed in on cat's feet and swirled around.

Getting my fill of vitamin D for the past two days I walked many blocks in the sun. I saw people shopping, smiling and generally happy to be rid of the layers of winter garb. I saw tulip shoots and crocus stems reaching for the sky. I watched the dirtiest of snow piles melt and leave only silt in their wake.

Strolling on the Upper West Side, there were children on scooters, bikes, and in strollers. Adults ambled about trying to balance all the kid-ware that they have these days. There were some people with shopping bags, some with Fairway bags and few with pretzels.

I didn't see anyone loaded down with packages. It just wasn't about that today. It was about feeling unfettered with 'things' and enjoying the ease of moving without baggage.

Yes, times are scary; everyone is concerned about their own financial wellness, and probably someone close to them in their own family and friend circle.

But for this weekend, for just a little while, there was the sun and the sidewalk. There were no boots and no umbrellas. Kids laughed and grownups smiled.

No one felt scared of a terrorist attack. No one was particularly worried about Governor Patterson's fate. Laundry and homework could wait.

It was a good day in New York City.