I sat on the train to Hudson, New York, gazing at the river and the storm clouds that had cancelled Sarah’s flight. It’s a very nice, quiet, beautiful view. It takes about two hours to go from Penn Station to Hudson. There are people on this train that do this every day. It’s their commute. Its expensive too (my ticket cost $42, I think their’s are less because they buy a monthly pass). They said it’s still cheaper to drive, but this is more restful and they can work or sleep while they are on the train.
Eugenie's little house is beautiful - I mean the view and the garden, it’s just a little house, two bedrooms, one bath. But her garden is lovely, and they have a spectacular view of the Catskill Mountains. The only problem is a grumpy neighbor with a grudge against them that has put up a true spite fence between their two properties. They are consulting an attorney; it’s too bad because the stress with the neighbor diminishes the peaceful beauty of their place.
When we arrived her power was out due to the storm. There were branches and leaves down everywhere and subtle damage to plants and flowers due to hail. We ate chicken and potato salad by candlelight and eventually the power came back on.
We spent the next two days exploring the little towns of the Hudson River valley. It’s just a beautiful place and seems like its a million miles from the city. Eugenie goes into the city several days a week to tune pianos and has a papermaking workshop in her basement. Kenny has retired from his job as a probation officer and now works as a concierge at one of the resorts in the area.
Eugenie and I have seen each other a few times in the past seven years. There was the time Lee, Daniel and I went to Connecticut because of some work Lee had around New Haven when Daniel was going into 10th grade. We met Eugenie for dinner one evening in the city. There was the time Eugenie and I met in St. Louis shortly after 9/11. Eugenie was still traumatized by that day's events. I was struggling with the fallout from the disaster that had become of my sister’s life. We walked around St. Charles all afternoon, telling each other our current life stories and somehow healing old wounds. The next time I saw her she and Gail came to visit in Columbia. Sarah was home visiting from college and they were able to meet Sarah’s friends and hang out in our beautiful kitchen on High Point Lane. It was a friendly, nostalgic visit, uncomplicated and pleasant.
But this time was different. For some reason I cared again whether Eugenie understood a point I was trying to make. I felt compelled to disagree with her regardless of whether something actually mattered to me or not. I wanted my experiences overseas to be recognized and acknowledged. I think in a sense I've been trying to imagine what it might be like to return to the US after living abroad, where very few people will share my common experience. Just a little thing like Eugenie asking why the sky was white in the documentary we saw about the Three Gorges Dam on the Yangtze River in China, and her disbelief when I said it was due to pollution, was telling. There are times when people will be fascinated and interested in my experiences and others where they really won't be able to comprehend it and it will be best to just let it go. Balancing that tightrope of talking about it and giving it a rest is going to be hard for me sometimes, I can see that now.
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