Laughter and

I have four amazing children, They are my Fabulous Four, and three are far more vocal than their beloved oldest brother

But that is not part of this story.

When we interact (in these Covid ridden days, years or world that is new,) it is amazing how our memories differ.

Because I prefer to enjoy every moment life gives me with my loved ones, we do not Zoom, but hold separate conversations; some daily, some midweek but to misquote the song, “Always on Sunday.”

One, of course, is with the devoted child whose home is nearby; the other with his equally beloved and caring sibling residing on the west coast. and lastly, but never least, my only and favorite daughter.

It is also my secret belief that later the family occasionally merges and confers on the matriarch’s well being and/or state of mind.

We have not yet reached that odious plateau of age where they agree with me. Blessedly, I am still corrected and disagreed with both in opinion and prediction,

Each one has independently retained memories (respectful but brutally honest) of the forecasts I made in years gone by that proved totally wrong, i.e. each owning a helicopter.

One, who I will not identify either by age or sex, has memories so different from mine, I occasionally wonder if we have the wrong number for our visits,

And that is only because my beloved child has virtually no memories of life in my beloved NYC.

I recall we lived together for several decades, and while there are vivid recollections of meals, parties and friends, there are none of the Big Apple location.

However , I do admit in these troubled days, a lot of other New Yorkers are also abandoning the Empire State,

Another of my brood recalls a few of my idiosyncrasies, notably a resistance to animal life.

Now I must also state with all honesty, that is a valid memory, and possibly explains why the moment all four left the household, they adopted a dog.

So, while the trips back to yesterday differ, there is one common denominator, laughter.

Because although while sadly, we all accepted the gift of love as undying, we underestimated the power and strength of laughter. It is that which binds us despite the miles, and the loss of human touch.

We still have fun even when I have to occasionally remind them, I am the only one who remembers those amazing years with total accuracy,

Because while we rarely agree (except about memories of their irreplaceable Dad,) we seldom disagree, and that line of demarcation is nebulous.

Even though I know it’s not quite true.