Continuity

I've always been passionate about preserving my family history.  I would spend hours as a child and teen making photo albums of family pictures and asking my parents and grandparents and aunts on both sides about my roots.  I would keep small tokens of my life to hopefully pass down to future generations, in the hopes that one day they too will relish this evidence of their heritage, and wonder who I was and if they recognize hints of me in their own makeup, as I often wonder about my ancestors both recent and distant.

Yesterday, LPP and I spent the glorious, sunny day visiting my Grandmother (LPP's Nana) and then exploring the neighborhood to take full advantage of the gorgeous weather.  Walking around the neighborhood that I grew up in with LPP made me appreciate even more this idea of continuity.  It warmed my heart to think that LPP was literally walking in my steps, as I had done with my Mom and Dad almost 40 years ago.  We share the same blood, the same history, and yesterday, the same streets.  Did I ever think that all these years later, it would be me walking along the same sidewalks with my son running freely ahead of me?  Probably.  In fact, I'm sure I'd hoped for it.  And then this idea of continuity is all the more potent and poignant because this is New York City, which is in constant flux and metamorphosis.  I can walk in neighborhoods that were integral to specific stages of my development, neighborhoods that trigger a flood of memories by mention alone, and not even recognize them anymore, the street signs being the only confirmation that I am indeed in the same place.  It was nice to see that some things have remained fairly unchanged in my old neighborhood.

LPP on the drive, 3 years old.

Me on the drive, 5 years old.

LPP by a planter, 3 years old.

Me by the same planter, 5 or 6 years old.

In exploring the neighborhood, LPP and I came across the playground where my Mother used to take my brother and me when we were little.  The playground looks nothing like it did when my brother and I used to run around in it.  And yet, it was nice to think that, just by being there on the same grounds with LPP zipping up and down the entire length,  I was somehow continuing a family legacy.  And maybe I was even allowing a part of my brother and me, left behind in the wake of Time's passage, to continue on through the joy and energy that LPP experienced.  For me, looking back on the familial aspirations that fueled my desire to become a mother someday, it was a dream fulfilled.

LPP enjoying hopscotch in the playground.

Game completed and feeling proud!

Face streaked with sweat and dirt, LPP takes a break.