A tale of two hotels

Our recent trip to New York wasn’t all colourful sights and sounds. During our stay, two hotels unexpectedly gave me cause for thought. I was reminded how precious life is, and to live each day to the full.

On our first night in town, Garry and I took a short detour past the Casablanca Hotel. Thirteen years ago, I stayed here with Mum and Dad during our whirlwind visit to the Big Apple. The hotel was less than 100 metres from Times Square, making it easy for Dad to take in its dazzling billboards and energetic vibe.

Our detour was well timed. The following day, we paused to remember the anniversary of Dad’s death. Dad loved New York. He was delighted to tick it off his bucket list, barely three months before he died. Mum was also grateful for the experience. Although she would have visited a few museums if we’d had more time. It was sad to reflect that in the intervening years, Mum has also passed away.

On our final night in Manhattan, Garry and I walked past Hotel Edison while returning from the theatre. I stayed here as an exchange student while on a High School Arts Club trip to New York City in 1983. As students, we attended the ballet at the Lincoln Centre, watched La Cage aux Folles at the Palace Theatre, toured the Met and MOMA, and visited the United Nations.

It was a cathartic moment standing there reflecting on my life’s journey. The 18-year-old version of me stood here with his whole life stretching out before him, wondering where it would lead him. Now, 42 years later, the 60-year-old version of me was standing and looking back, wondering, “Have I used my time wisely? Would 18-year-old me be proud?”

It was a humbling experience to have a venue symbolically bookending my life’s journey. It was also a timely reminder to make the most of my remaining years. I think I’ve done OK. If I have any doubts, rereading this blog offers plenty of reassurance.