A week of parting.

Hamilton Heights corner.


Colette flirting with a tiny garden hiding on 87th Street.


Final weekend. This week has been like a vacation in the place we love, celebrating with all we've come to know and adore. I left work a week ago and have just rollicked in our New York life since then. Last night at least 13 kids hid under beds and scattered through the house for Colette's final game of hide and seek. It came and went. In the lead up it felt far off. But now our departure is gaining on us and my heart feels like it is up near my tonsils. I peep into each room in our house before I enter to hold it in my head - leave with the scene wrapped up for me when I close my eyes. A memory cache. The pictures aren't it. It is a sensation - the smell, the aroma and feel of the air just after the girls leave a room. The sound of the bath water. The smell of Harlem air coming through the windows.

We've been wandering around the city with the eyes, ears, senses for taking in. It is a basic lesson but not easily digested. If only we were always on the verge of heading out - it would all be so concentrated. I am so sad to leave I bought my first real pair of sunglasses and stash my tears behind them every day now. But as Colette says with wise eyes, reassuring: "we will probably be back, Mommy."


Convent Avenue.


The Lion and the Mouse. Rome's favorite - wants to read it every single night.


Popsicles in the backyard. (Romy: "papa-school")


Sister chat in early evening light.


The cast of hide and seek.


Jumping contest.


Morning nestle.


"That's you, Mama." Colette


Romy Danda.


Typically odd place for repose.


Rain dance.


My 8am meeting this week. Such a nice development.


Park days.


Peony carnage.


My NYC brothers.


Contented X.


A band of friends.