Wednesday, August 18, 2010
During the previous year-plus
I'd been living in L.A. writing for TV, then my dad died and I found myself with a full-time job deconstructing his law office and home.
Last August, Central Park, which has always served as my personal anchor making New York liveable, went through a similar uprooting, when a storm came through and felled hundreds of trees, many of them in the northern part of the park near where I live. At the time it seemed like nature was just piling on my personal grief.
Today's New York Times city blog explains that in retrospect, the storm may have done some necessary pruning. That the park will now be closer to its original design. That more sunlight will come in.
My dad's death has forced me to come to terms with many things, including my own detritus and my own endgame (I am finally rewriting my will). It has encouraged me to reevaluate my friendships and reach out to others who have been similarly orphaned. We are the patriarchs and matriarchs now, the grownups, and we have to start planting.
In the end, there are two ways to deal with trauma: let it win, or rise above it. I'm trying to be Central Parkish.