Friends, food, books, and remembering my dog, Phinny, on Easter
It was a happy Easter Sunday with friends, food, books, Central Park, and supporting local NYC businesses. I spent it with my friends, Amy and Charlotte, and then took a winding walk through Manhattan in the glorious warm sunshine. It was a day we’d been planning for almost 2 months!
Easter was my favorite holiday as a kid and with Phinny. We’d always go to the Easter Parade on Fifth Avenue, the oldest in the world, started in the 1870s. We loved to see everyone dressed up and happy, and everyone always fawned over Phinny (obviously), and he loved it (obviously.) To keep him close to me while I was out and about, I wore the forget-me-not locket I have with a lock of his fur inside and in my purse, I had the stuffy replica of Phineas that my friend, Liz, had made for me when Phinny passed away.
At long last, I made it to Golden Diner — renowned for its worth-the-wait, best-in-NYC, honey maple butter pancakes finished with lemon zest. We got there at about 9:15am. The line was already around the corner. They opened at 10am and by then the line was all the way down the block. It’s situated in the Two Bridges neighborhood of Manhattan, under the Manhattan Bridge. While that doesn’t sound appealing, and yes, it is loud when a train roars by, the grittiness somehow adds something to their already spectacular food.
Just after 10am, the wait was already an hour to get in, but they put our names down and said they’d send us a text when our table was ready. They did and the food was every bit as good as I’d heard. A little tip from Charlotte and Amy that really works — just get an order of pancakes for the table — and then get one of their other great items. We also got a Caesar salad for the table — it’s vegan and the best I’ve ever had. Amy and I got breakfast burritos. Charlotte got the Chinatown Egg and Cheese. All of it delicious, and reasonably priced. Plus, we got to sit outside in the sunshine.
While waiting for our table, we went around the corner to Dreamers Coffee Shop, a cozy, dog-friendly spot with a pinboard where customers can leave a message on a card for others to see. It was no surprise that Phinny’s spirit showed up at Dreamers — the first card I saw on the pin board while waiting in line for my coffee said “If you have a dachshund, please send me a pic” — with a cell phone number. (I’ve sent over a photo of Phinny, so I’ll let you know when I hear back.) Later that day, we also strolled by a gift shop loaded with dachshund items. He is a very loud ghost.
We wound our way through the Lower East Side to P&T Knitwear, a family-owned and operated indie bookstore with an incredible history worthy of its own post which I’ll write later this week. As Amy wisely says, they’re known for showcasing books that are good, not just what’s hot, which is a rare and wonderful thing in publishing.
We also stopped into Sweet Pickle Books, another indie bookshop which I’d never heard of. And yes, one day a week you really can trade in your used books for a jar of their homemade pickles. The store was bustling with merch, new and used books, and lots of shoppers.
Heading west, we stopped into Goods for the Study, a stationary and writing store owned by McNally Jackson, one of my favorite bookstores. (And Charlotte happened to be wearing their sweatshirt — an unplanned coincidence!) Amy and Charlotte bought me a tiny ceramic kitty that now sits on my desk. We all have one now. So, every time I look at it, I think “Amy’s writing”, “Charlotte’s editing film”, and “okay, I’m writing and editing, too.” Writing and editing are lovely jobs, and they can be lonely so it helps to know that so many others are in their own spaces doing this work, too.
After a walk through the garden district, which really does feel cooler and with cleaner air — thank you, plants! — Amy and Charlotte headed home and I continued on to the American Museum of Natural History and Central Park. Every spring, Phinny, and our friends Ashley and Cricket, would have a bagel and coffee picnic under the blooming cherry blossoms along the Reservoir in Central Park that is near our old upper west side apartment. I was worried we’d missed them with how busy the world is.
I went past the museum, thinking of how many times Phinny and I had wandered around those grounds over the year. The tulips and trees were putting on a show. The Rose Center for Earth and Space has the full name “The Frederick Phineas and Sandra Priest Rose Center for Earth and Space”. This always makes me laugh because it has his name, my mom’s name, Sandra, and my middle name Rose.
As I entered the park, I was flooded with memories of Phinny and friends. All the walks, talks, and afternoons spent together there over many years. I have a hilarious photo of Phinny seated in front of a live jazz trio that was playing there a number of years ago. He seemed to think all the spectators were applauding for him. Of course, yesterday that same exact trio was playing in the park. I can’t help but think he had a hand in that, too.
Then it was on to the cherry blossoms he loved best, the ones along the west side of the reservoir, the ones that are the backdrop of Phinny’s portrait that my friends, Jane, Vince, Ken, Tom, Bobby, Joanne, and Joe had made for me, the ones that my friend, Ashley, used as the setting for the watercolor she made for me of my boy and his happy life over the rainbow bridge, the ones where I always imagine him now in the Great Hereafter.
Walking toward them, I kept saying to Phinny, “I’m so sorry if I missed them, Buddy, and if I broke our tradition.” He kept telling me not to worry. I thought he just didn’t want me to feel sad or that I’d disappointed him.
I teared up when I went around the bend and realized what happened. While a tiny fraction of the flowers on the lower branches had opened, almost all of them were still in the bud stage and hadn’t yet bloomed into that glorious archway. I messaged Ashley immediately and we’re hoping to go next weekend if the weather is okay. We haven’t missed them! Our tradition continues.
Walking back to the subway to go home, I looked across the lawn and down the hill at 86th Street. The scene reminded me of a modern version of the Georges Seurat painting, “A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte.” There were Easter egg hunts, dogs, picnics, music, and laughter. It felt like collectively New York was taking a deep breath, finally.
I have so many memories of that hill, the daffodils nearby where Phineas loved to put his formidable snoot every spring. His little trot along that path hundreds of times over the years. Meeting all our friends in all kinds of weather. And every day, it’s the setting for the dreams and memories of so many people from all walks of life.
I thought about how life in New York often feels like a dreamy movie with twists and turns and moments of poignancy and memory in-between. The Muppet Movie finale began to play through my mind, “Life’s like a movie, write your own ending, keep believing, keep pretending, we’ve done just what we’ve set out to do, thanks to the lovers, the dreamers, and you.” I don’t know yet in this next chapter of my life what ending I’m writing. I do know that I still believe in goodness and light and love. That I’m setting out to do something beautiful and joyful and helpful for my New York neighbors. I know I’m in the right place, and for now, that is enough to know.