8 Week Photo Shoot

Special thanks to Stephen Meyer, family friend, a professional photographer and sweetheart who took these shots of Paul.

Reflections on the F Train

I am like a tourist on the train, craning my neck to get a glimpse at the Statue of Liberty. Just weeks ago, I would have been unaware that the train was even above ground, until someone's cell phone bleated me out of a daze, lifting my eyes to the light. Now, out in the world again without Paul, my senses are heightened, and my thoughts firing. I am struck by the realization that we are now two, where once we shared this body. What an amazing truth.

The commuters rest, their heads tucked down or back, their ears ensconced in headphones, each one retreating into a secret world, so exposed and yet so private. I too have a secret world. A beautiful baby boy at home, a husband who loves us both through every mood and moment.

It's easy for me to forget that we're part of the big mass of humanity that breathes and pulses with the energy that I have only found in New York, a distinctive single force that flows through every person, every corner of the city. I remember discovering that energy the first time I considered moving here. Stepping off the train and feeling inside the possibility that a day could hold. By the end of the day, fortunes would be made, loves uncovered, talents made famous.

Seven years later, I see the flip side too. I am acutely aware that in the same day, fortunes will be lost, loves buried, and talents beaten into obscurity. Pessimistic, some might say, nuanced I would protest. For now I love New York even though I know its depths. That is truer, I think.

We all look so tired on the train. I wonder if that is because we've found some measure of what we sought here...or whether our failure to find it has eroded our spirit. I count myself lucky to be among the former. For as nice as it is to be part of the bigger picture for a few hours, I know I will be glad to come home.

Paul's First Girl: Eleanor Lois