LGA-ICT

“You’re looking good this evening, Mama.”

“It’s morning,” I replied to the man by the food cart in front of Elmhurst Hospital. It was 4:30 a.m. as I walked towards the bus terminal a half mile away this morning. I’m waiting now in Terminal B for a flight to Chicago and on to Wichita. They’ve demolished grungy LGA. A world class airport replaces it. I love it.

Laurence and I watched the planes landing last evening from our view at Plane View Park. We marvel to see how the silent runways of the Pandemic have come alive with planes that fly the friendly skies.

Like we usually do, we walked the two miles to the park, and then took the bus home. After getting off on the corner of Roosevelt and 82nd Street, I told Laurence, “One thing consoles me: A week from now we’ll be back here,” so while I’m excited to be with family, there is no place like home in Elmhurst. (Laurence flies Saturday. We’re celebrating my parents’ 65th anniversary. Laurence and I will have our 41st anniversary celebration Tuesday.) That corner on Roosevelt hops with music, taco vendors, a food stand where a salesperson hawks his avocados, with people, and always, the Mexican women with grocery carts that hold kettles of tamales. The overhead 7 train adds to the cacophony.

I heard on Saturday that we’re moving from the city. Let the rumors rest. We have nowhere to go. Not now.

“Group 9, you’re welcome to board.” God bless. You’re looking good. Berniece