I had been in many schools, but none quite like the Harley School in Rochester, NY. It was a private school, but it felt open and kind, almost like an enormous library as opposed to any school I had ever been in before. In the atrium, there were portraits of the students, a fish pond, and of course, my favourite thing of all, a piano, that was open for anyone to play that should just so happen to fancy it. It was a wonderful place.
My grandson was looking at me apprehensively.
“They’re going to think you’re the Queen of England, Gran,” he said. “Are you sure you just want to wander from classroom to classroom on your own?”
I was quite sure.
“I’m not even sure I’m allowed to let you do that,” he continued.
“Do what?” I replied.
“Have you walk around on your own.”
“Well, I never.”
“I can introduce you first,” he tried again, beginning to look a little more desperate.
“I’ve worked in a school for how many years?” I appeased him, “Besides you should be working, not watching your grandmother. Let me just be.”
He wasn’t the only one with doubts.
I arrived in Rochester in the summer of 2016 to visit my grandson and my great-granddaughters. It was my first international trip without Harold and it involved not only flying to America but catching a connecting flight once I arrived. Gilly had been nervous about me finding my way through Philadelphia airport.
“It’s just Philadelphia I’m nervous about Mum,” she said for the umpteenth time, and she explained again that I needed to have someone greet me and make sure I got on the right plane. Which plane would I have got on?
I wasn’t too sure about all this fuss.
At my grandson’s school where he worked, I was interested in meeting the students that were part of his program. Many of the children that attended were from the less affluent parts of the city and the program provided them with a wonderful opportunity in the summer. It was vibrant. As I moved from classroom to classroom I saw the same thing that I had seen in the eyes of the children I had taught over the years. The simple hope that the adult in front of them cared. I had so many wonderful conversations.
“What would you love to do?” I asked one teenager who was looking at me rather shyly.
“Me?” she said, pointing at herself surprised.
“I’ve always wanted to play the piano.” she continued. “I would love to play music at my mother’s church.”
“Then you shall,” I replied and by the following day, I had convinced my grandson to let me give her lessons on the school piano in that same hallway. We developed a wonderful friendship and still write to one another to this day. Some years later I received a video from my grandson of her playing beautifully at the very church that she had told me about in our first conversation. It’s those kind of things that make me glow.
On one of my final days, we hiked in a place called Letchworth State Park. As we traveled into the park I had no idea it was about to open up to a stunning gorge that looked like a giant had swung a massive axe into the earth and simply cut an enormous wedge out of it. It was staggering. We parked and walked for a while down into the gorge until we found what my grandson had been looking for.
“Can I sit here for a while?” I asked him pointing at a rock where I could watch the massive rapids that were pounding the cliff face just a few feet away.
There was no one else there and he wandered on ahead.
I closed my eyes in this place and listened. There he was. I could feel him all around me. Amidst the furor of the churning water, in this vast place that he had never been. Harold felt closer. He was with me after all. Just as he always had been. Just as he always would. I felt an enormous weight lifting from me, and then a beautiful feeling of peace.
My grandson returned and asked me why I was crying.
“I’m just happy,” I told him smiling.
And I was.
Note: Gran Lessons will return on Friday, December 1st, after a week break. This weekend, Tessa is visiting from the UK and we will be running the Philadephia Marathon at the speed of light. Next week will feature both recovery and US Thanksgiving, and I wanted to ensure our final two lessons were put together with the correct care and attention. See you in two weeks time! Until then…Ready. Set. Go.
So beautiful to hear her talk about mainstays of Rochester from a tourists perspective! My family and I visited Letchworth several times during the pandemic and found it to be magical and healing as well. Especially during a time when there was so much uncertainty. Have an amazing race this weekend Robin!! I actually ran the Philly Marathon back in 2009!! I wish you an incredible run and a beautiful experience overall. My husband just ran the Toronto Marathon a month ago while I cheered him on. Equally as moving in all the same ways!