I've been wanting to share all week but for whatever reason I've been exhausted. I was thinking the other day that I didn't want the only memories I post to be those of trauma and pain. Last week when I adjusted my window, so that I could get more air while I sleep, I was flooded by a wonderful image of my cousin and I looking out of my Aunt's 6th floor window on 135th Street. I guess we had to be somewhere around 10 & 12 because we were old enough that her little brother was born but young enough to find joy in something so simple as looking at the wonderful skyline of downtown Manhattan. The Empire State Building and the World Trade Center lit the night sky but seemed close enough that we used to reach our hands through the child safety bars to try to touch them. We used to play this game where we would both choose a side and count the cars that came down each side of the street, the winner being the one who counted the most. That was our late night game that we would sometimes fall asleep while playing (honestly my cousin always fell asleep first). Things seemed so simple at moments like this.
If my memory serves correctly, it had to be summertime because there was no school, I was not on Bradhurst Avenue and we were always playing like there was no care in the world. Not every season of my young life was hurt filled. As I got older and would still spend some summers at my Aunt's, or when I got older and was between places to call home, I recall always sitting in that same window finding solace in the breeze. Funny how everywhere I've gone the breeze has always been my comfort; the way it covers my body like a silk sheet and carries all scents into my nostrils while strengthening/energizing me like spinach does Popeye. I remember lying on my back with my head out of the window staring at the stars instead of the sidewalk. I would secretly wish to be rescued because I kept thinking life wasn't supposed to hurt like it did. As I look back that window was a sacred place. It's where I wondered, played, observed and prayed. It's where I started most of my dreaming. Funny how small things leave such a beautiful mark.