24/07/2024
“It's a miracle I’m even here. My father went through World War II: the Normandy Invasion, Omaha Beach. So for him to survive all that, and live long enough to become my father—it’s a miraculous thing. He died before I was eight years old. But it was enough time to experience him deeply. I was very loved, very welcomed, very cared for: my parents were thrilled I was their child. When I was younger I traveled quite a bit. Not every place, but a lot of places: Greece, Turkey, Alaska. And this wasn’t just going on tours. It was real, vagabond stuff: no reservations, no plans. Just deeply experiencing another culture and another place. I’ve gotten to do every kind of work, from agricultural labor to factory work. For twenty years I was a social worker with seniors. But I can’t even call that a job, it was a service. I got to take care of people: bring them meals, help with housekeeping. It was an absolute calling. I was a workaholic. And now that I’m retired-- I'm a play-aholic. There’s nonstop free music in New York. I come to this park to listen to jazz piano. I go to Juilliard to listen to student recitals. There’s going to be a Dixieland ragtime ensemble near Macy’s. I mean, it’s endless. I’m just grateful for good health to enjoy it all. So many people wake up in pain. But I have my health, and I have a home. I mean, it’s not a home. But I have a place. A safe place to rent. It’s just been a blessed, beautiful life. The perfect life for me. I found it very, very rich. Very deep. And I think all of it was a blessing. All of it, miracles and blessings.”