The tale of two hotels

Our recent trip to New York wasn’t all colourful sights and sounds. During our stay, two hotels unexpectedly made me pause for thought. Each reminded me how precious life is, and how important it is to live each day to the full.

On our first night in town, Garry and I took a short detour to walk 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 easier 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 and was delighted he got to tick it off his bucket list, barely three months before he died. Mum was also grateful for the experience. Although she'd have loved to visit a few of the city's 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 on our way home 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 and reflecting on my life’s journey. The 18-year-old version of me had stood here with his whole life stretching out before him, wondering where life would take him. Now, 42 years later, the 60-year-old version of me was standing here looking back, wondering, “Have I used my time wisely? Would 18-year-old me be proud?”

It’s a humble experience to have a venue like this symbolically bookending my life’s journey. It’s also a timely reminder to make the most of my remaining years. I think I’ve done OK. If I have any doubt, reading through this blog tells a different story.