I didn’t know you well or long, but you made a lasting impression in my heart.
We were from different generations, backgrounds, life experience, but we found common ground.
145 Waverly Place, NYC – Circa 1989
The landlords had informed us of plans for a major capital improvement, which would raise our rent. I don’t really remember who organized what, but there came to be some tenant activity and I was part of the group. I was about 21 and I remember Howard to be in his 70s. It was an interesting apartment building with a range of tenants from those, like Howard and a writer/journalist named Joan, who had lived in the building since the 1960s, to myself & various roommates on the 3rd floor & other NYU students who lived on the first floor (with whom I am still friends), as well as, other young-in-the-city hopefuls.
Our first tenant meeting disbanded on the sidewalk in front of the brownstone and that’s when Howard first approached me. He came over and asked if I would join him at the Waverly Restaurant (which was on the corner) for a “soda.” I assumed he meant an ice cream soda or milkshake. Always rushing somewhere, NYC-sytle, I told him I didn’t have the time. His response was clear, that I did in fact have the time, and in his tone was another message: making memories, slowing down & connecting are worth making the time. No regrets.
We sat in a booth by the window, enjoying our milkshakes and getting to know each other. I don’t recall the topics we covered, but something in his story touched me. There were other moments to be shared, cards & notes slid under doors, tenant battles to attend, more “sodas,” but to be honest, I really don’t hold many more details in my mind, though my heart remains full.
One day, Howard informed me that he had just been diagnosed with lung cancer. Lung cancer! Howard had never smoked a day in his life and played tennis, regularly. Again, the details are fuzzy and I’m sure, in the haze of memory, there is regret that I didn’t do enough for him during that time.
I remember when he died.
There was a memorial for him at the Alice in Wonderland area in Central Park. I had to work that day – at least that’s what I thought was true. But I forgot the first lesson Howard taught me – some things are worth making the time. Show up. No regrets. (It’s funny, even now, most of my regrets are about not showing up.)
Dear Howard,
I stumbled upon these scant memories when I uncovered the cards you gave me during our brief friendship. You lovingly guided me to what I already knew but had forgotten – you reminded me what was important and how time can be accommodating. I am honored that I got to walk even a portion of this life path with you and that your art and love live on through these words and images.
Thank you for your friendship and wisdom.
Love,
SS
