Esplanade

D and I made plans to take a walk today. The weather’s been mild. Maybe we’ll cross the bridge that goes over the FDR to the Riverwalk. Burt and I used to walk there all the time. I mean, before he got sick, too. For a while, when he was still walking, we would go there to sit and watch the river.

I hadn’t taken that route in a very long time.

The ramp was too steep to trust the walker wouldn’t fly off; one Sunday, his weekend aide and I did take him to the bench in his wheelchair. I hadn’t walked there myself in a very long time.

Walking by the river with Burt – that had just been what we did for years. Then, when he got sick, and walking got harder, sitting by the river to enjoy the calm of watching water became a pleasant pastime for us.

I remember seeing him often, leaning on a companions’ arm, in an intense conversation, walking back over the bridge just as I returned from the gym.

That bridge, access to the East River Esplanade, had been one of the selling points on living in this building.

The neighbors who have become friends and who watched over us all these years were the building’s hidden assets.

Burt chose this place for us.