A New York Minute, Part II

. . . I made it through the Lincoln Tunnel . . . barely. We found a nice little Italian restaurant that was thankfully not too crowded, where I ordered a tall glass of ice. I held the ice on my wrists and neck and tried not to panic. I hate hot flashes, I hate menopause and I hate crowded cities. But, I love Broadway, I love my husband and I love my daughter. I went into the bathroom for the 5th time before the food even came. Only this time, I put two paper towels on the floor (I was wearing white Capri's) and knelt down to have myself a little talk with God. I asked God to give me peace so I can be present to the day's events. When I got back to the table the food had arrived. I had ordered a personal pizza, but it wasn't personal in the sense that one person could eat it, it was huge! I choked down one slice and had the rest boxed up to take home. The restaurant said they would hold the left over pizza until the play was over. I was a bit shaky and a bit achy and still hot. Needless to say, I was a bit distracted. Half a block away from the restaurant we walked past a man sitting on a duffel bag holding a cardboard sign that simply read, "Homeless." The city was hot and crowded, but this man seemed not to notice. On the contrary, he seemed to feel cold and lonely . . .

To be continued . . .