From the department of Waking Dreams
“Where are we?” my mother asks.
“Riverside Park,” I say.
I am holding her right hand as we walk beneath golden-leaved trees on a cool, sunny fall afternoon.
“Where are we?” she asks again.
“We’re walking along the Hudson River,” my brother says. He is holding our mother’s left hand.
People are streaming past us in purple tee shirts emblazoned with slogans proclaiming that we are here to end Alzheimer’s. We’re among hundreds, maybe over a thousand people, who are raising money by walking two miles to bring attention and resources to find a cure for this disease, which little by little steals my mother’s memories.
“Where are we?” My mother asks the question again a few more times in the space of ten minutes. My brother and I repeat for her what we are doing and where we are. We tell her we’re just across town from her apartment (the neighborhood she rarely leaves anymore), we tell her we’re on the Upper West Side, we tell her the streets we’re closest to.
Finally she asks one more time. “Where are we?”
I say, “You are right here with your son and your daughter. You’re with us. That’s all you need to know.”
“Okay,” she says, smiles, and doesn’t ask again.
Is a sacred place a location? Or is it a state of heart and mind? Is it the people you are with? This moment with my mother showed me that the most special place on earth is can be found along the longitude and latitude lines of love.
*Corner View is a weekly appointment each Wednesday, where bloggers from all corners of the world share their view on a pre-arranged theme. This week’s theme is Sacred Places. Start here to visit more Corner View blogs.