CHAPTER TWELVE: BROOKLYN HEIGHTS
(Zamfir, “Balada Sarpelui”)
Today is Tuesday! This is my special day of the week when Michel joins me and we pick up Sam and Annabel at school, go to the playground with them, and have dinner together.
When Mica takes her parents from the airport to go home to Manhattan, she asks the taxi driver to take a detour to Brooklyn Heights. She feels the need to share with her parents the beautiful sight of the Statue of Liberty from the promenade. And I, too, marvel each Tuesday at the view of Manhattan’s sparkling skyscrapers making the island separate from the world.
That is if three-year-old Sammy allows me one second to look at anything other than him running from one corner of the playground to another. Of course, I wouldn’t want it any other way. Three years old is a wonderful age – the time of all beginning, the opening up to life like a flower in the sun, one new word or phrase each day as his blue eyes question.
“Will you be my friend?” he asked me Tuesday and he took my hand when I whispered, “Of course.” And when he ran over to his six-year-old sister and hugged her, she, too, eyed me with the same pride I had felt when his soft hand had been in mine.
No wonder why Brooklyn Heights is special for me. Children and dogs seem to be everywhere and what a vibrant population they are. Boys and girls of all ages are on bikes and skateboards as if they’re living in the suburbs. Cars even stop at each corner while drivers wait and watch a child cross the street. Old-fashioned brown and red townhouses colored with flowering bushes, give the impression of another era. Genteel and calm where people greet each other with a “hi” and smile. Even Mike with his ice-cream truck parked at the playground, greets each child by name.
I am thrilled Gregory chose to live here. So close to the city and yet, a century apart.