Some of Katie’s favorite spots in NYC.
My sister Emily died on October 18, 2001. She was 54 years old. Pancreatic cancer. God, I hate cancer.
Emily missed too many things. Including a chance to meet her grandchildren.
Her eldest son Ray, who was inspired to become a GI oncologist after witnessing his mom’s illness, has three children. (His younger brother Jeff is single and ready to mingle if you know anyone!) Ray’s eldest daughter was named after my sister. She’s graduating from high school next month and heading off to Dartmouth, just like her parents, uncle, and grandfathers. (Dartmouth was my safety school. Just kidding…I don’t think I could have gotten in even if I had applied!) As a graduation present, I invited her to spend the weekend with me in the Big Apple.
I wanted to make it a weekend to remember. Not just to celebrate young Emily but to honor my sister. How I wish she could have been hosting her granddaughter instead of me. She’d be so proud of the young woman she’s become — smart, poised, fun-loving with a great head on her shoulders. Life can be so cruel.
Friday Afternoon
Emily is a dancer — she’s been a ballerina since she was a little girl, so I wanted her to see the ABT. Unfortunately, there were no performances that weekend, so I reached out to my friend Caryn, who’s on the board, to see if there was anything we could do. The nice people at the ABT arranged for us to come to a rehearsal for the junior company — 17 to 20-year-olds who are the crème de la crème and will graduate to either the ABT or other regional dance companies. What a thrill! They performed a number of dances, including a solo choreographed by a member of Alvin Ailey — one of my favorite companies. I marveled at their talent and the discipline it took to get them here. Given her own experiences in pointe shoes, Emily had an even greater appreciation for the performances.
After that, everything would be a walk in the park…and in fact, it was! After a pit stop at Butterfield’s, my neighborhood market, for some of the best frozen yogurt in Manhattan, we headed to my home away from home…Central Park.
What a gift the park is — all 842.6 acres of it! And this time of year, it’s absolutely teeming with daffodils, forsythias, and, right now, Eastern Redbuds — Fuschia flowers that grow straight off the branches. The delicate cherry blossoms that form a canopy over the bridle path are already gone and the bright pink pom pom trees have yet to bloom. But there is plenty to see as Spring finally emerges. The Conservancy Gardens are my favorite place; If you’re visiting NYC, make sure to mosey up to 105th and 5th and take a stroll. I love checking out the plaques on the park benches that are engraved with loving messages to those who escaped the concrete jungle and headed to this lush sanctuary to walk these same paths, admire the same flowering trees, and point their faces toward the sun as they sat on these same benches. One plaque reads: “In honor of our precious Nana, Marija Fodor, because she loved gardens, and we loved her.” Another for Daniel Loesel (1948-2006) reads: “Twas heaven here with you.” I never knew Marija or Daniel, but somehow these sentiments always make me smile, knowing they were deeply loved.
Friday Night
I was already exhausted having walked more than 22,000 steps that day — a personal record! But we put on some nice clothes (I hate when people wear jeans to the theatre…it’s fun to try to get a little dolled up!) and headed to Becco, one of my favorite restaurants in New York, for a pre-theatre bite. Their three pasta special is delish, and my aforementioned nephew Jeff ordered the evening’s selections — the beet ravioli was scrumptious. (That’s beet, not beef!) Then it was off to the Winter Garden Theatre for one of my all-time favorite shows, The Music Man. I’ve often said Hugh Jackman is my favorite interview — you’ll never meet a nicer person — and I couldn’t wait to see what he’d do with Professor Harold Hill. And I’m a huge Sutton Foster fan! She is such a triple threat and exudes joy in everything she does. The show did not disappoint. It sounds corny, but I was literally tapping my feet almost the whole time. I love the music from the show and know almost every word by heart, thanks to Robert Preston and Shirley Jones in the 1962 movie version.
But Hugh and Sutton put their own buoyant spin on the proceedings. And the sets, the choreography…the whole shebang (as they might say in River City) was spectacular. I was hoping we could say hi to Hugh afterward (yes, I told you I wanted to make this a weekend to remember) but Covid concerns put the kibosh on that! Just when we thought we were going to leave the theatre, Hugh announced they were auctioning two white gloves, one signed by him, the other by Sutton, to raise money for Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS. Egged on by my nephew Jeff, I started bidding. Someone behind me was also bidding. I realized afterward it was Robert Herjavec, one of the sharks from Shark Tank! Hugh pulled the oldest trick in the book: He and Sutton signed another pair of gloves and we both paid! But I was excited to contribute to such an important cause. And to go along with the gloves, we left with a poster signed by the entire cast. I suggested Emily frame them and put it up in her dorm room…THEATRE KID ALERT!
Saturday
We got up bright and early to head to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Emily’s a real fashionista (her mom bought her a subscription to Vogue for Christmas) so the Costume Institute’s American fashion exhibit was our first stop. It was so fun checking out vintage looks from Ralph Lauren (quilted skirt with a sweater and a lace kerchief, anyone?) and Lilly Pulitzer. Some of the looks from the past were timeless and it was fun to see how they inspired current designers like Tori Burch. Meanwhile, the Winslow Homer exhibit is another must-see. His theme of man against the sea, a source of both joy and sorrow, plays out in so many of his works. His watercolors are magnificent, too, as are the illustrations of his trips to the Caribbean…full of bright, playful colors and a far cry from his dramatic oils. (Ha! I suddenly sound like I’m impersonating an art critic!) The Met is an amazing place. Just walking around the Temple of Dendur, seeing the beautiful statues practically glowing from the skylights — the building itself is a work of art.
Then, it was off to The Whitney and its incredible collection of modern art. It was a wonderful contrast to the Met, full of so many fascinating art forms, from film to ceramics, from textiles to light displays. And the view from the terrace! In fact, we could see Little Island, where we walked right after lunch at Bubby’s in Tribeca, one of my favorite restaurants. (Jeff ordered a “fleet” of mimosas…so we had a little “darty” as the kids would say — a day party…where drinking is involved.)
Little Island is a new free park that opened to the public just a year ago and has spectacular views of the Hudson and funky art installations and places to rest your feet and soak up some sun. Did I mention it’s also free?!? It was VERY crowded but definitely worth seeing, especially while the daffodils are the stars of the show!
Saturday Night
We headed back uptown to rest for barely an hour and then headed to Lilia, a wonderful restaurant in Brooklyn known for its pasta dishes. (I did so much carbo-loading, you’d think I was getting ready to run the Boston Marathon, but I wasn’t.) It was so yummy! From the cacio e pepe fritelle and roasted ramp focaccia with ramp butter to the mafaldine with pink peppercorn and Parmigiano, and the sheep’s milk cheese filled agnolotti with saffron and dried tomato to olive oil cake and some insanely delicious gelato concoction called “The Italian Job” for dessert, it was a feast! Though afterward, with a nod to Hemingway, I wasn’t feeling too moveable. I don’t think I’ve ever slept so well.
Sunday
Sunday began with coffee at Butterfields, then a walk east…to the East River, specifically. On the way, we stopped at Orwashers, where Emily partook in a chocolate almond croissant — saving her from having to decide between the two. (Ah! To have the metabolism of an 18-year-old again!). We sat on a bench on the East River and talked about everything…observations come tumbling out of Emily and the only silences were natural and easy with no awkwardness.
She’d like to go to Law School, maybe Georgetown, after Dartmouth. She’s interested in government and international relations. She’s interested in human rights law. I tell her she could be the next Amal Clooney and we laugh. She wants to live in a city. We talk about gentrification and how it pushes people further out on the edges. We talk about trends, and she tells me that her contemporaries would only wear my HOKA sneakers to the gym, and not out for a walk. She gives me advice on how to wear the Doc Martens I just bought, for reasons that still elude me.
Brooklyn Bridge is calling. We walked across it around noon and took in the views of the city. Our reward? A pizza from Grimaldi’s…which we took to go because the line is always insane! We got four cheese, and it was DELICIOUS! (Next time, I think I’d order the marinara…I was surprised there was no tomato sauce on ours, but it was very tasty nonetheless.)
Our final stop? Funny Girl, with Beanie Feldstein in the lead role of Fanny Brice. Beanie has some giant shoes to fill…after all, can you imagine singing an iconic song like “People” if you’re NOT Barbra Streisand? But Beanie made the role her own — she was hilarious, vulnerable and boy, she could really belt out “Don’t Rain on My Parade.” It was the perfect ending to a jam-packed weekend.
I hope I provided Emily with a visit for the ages. I felt a little like Auntie Mame…pulling out all the stops. But this text from my nephew a day later made it all worthwhile: “Hey AK [that’s what Jeff calls me]. Thanks again for everything this past weekend. It was truly epic. I talked to Ray and Jess [Ray’s wife] yesterday and they were so grateful — what a memory for Em! You went above and beyond standing in for mom. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
Now I think I’ll take a nap.
