We had a nice Sabbath in Sharon,
including a lunch hosted by long-time friends for a group of about
25 people, ten of them our whole family. We decided to head back to New York
first thing Sunday morning because of the train accident in Connecticut which
was anticipated to cause traffic problems. At one point in Connecticut the
traffic on the highway slowed to a virtual standstill, but that turned out to
be traffic for a local college graduation. So all in all, our trip home was
uneventful.
Barry has been quite busy the past two
days as his laboratory and office were moved to a brand new building. Most of
the laboratories in which Barry has worked over the years have been in very old
structures, and we have made jokes about the dinosaur footprints in the halls. But
this is a brand new building, which is exciting. Of course laboratory work has
changed significantly in the years that Barry has been conducting scientific research.
Now, much of the work is done in what are known as “core facilities,”
laboratories that specialize in things like DNA sequencing. Newly constructed
space is designed and allocated with this in mind. I am anxious to go and see
the new laboratory when I am over at Mount Sinai for my next appointment with
one of my physicians there.
Since it has been a quiet last few
days, I opened my notes from the writing class, and selected one of the
assignments to share here. The assignment was to write about telephones, and I
knew immediately what I would write.
We were at the Bottom Line, a wonderful
old club in Greenwich Village, on a Saturday night in 1995. Singer/songwriter Christine
Lavin was performing. We had arrived early and found seats in the front row at
the foot of the stage. That same evening, our teenage daughter had come into
The City with friends. In those days, cell phones were much less common than
they are today. We had one, a clunky “bag phone,” but our daughter did not, so
she was to find a pay phone and call us to make arrangements to pick her up.
It was during a moment between songs,
when the club was quiet, waiting for Christine to begin the next song, that our
cell phone rang. Without missing a beat, Christine said “Oh, the phone! Is it
for me?” She reached over the edge of the stage and grabbed the phone from my
husband’s hand and started a conversation with our very confused daughter. When
she told Christine that she was trying to reach “Dr. Rosenstein,” Christine
looked at Barry and said “Oh, so you’re a doctor!” The audience roared. Our
daughter later told us that she could hear my laughing so she knew that
everything was alright. After chatting briefly, Christine handed Barry back the
phone, and he quickly instructed our daughter to call back in a few minutes.
Things got complicated after that and
we had a hard time finding each other, but eventually we did manage to pick her
up and return home. Sometimes I bemoan the fact that our digital devices are
running our lives. But then I remember that crazy evening so long ago, before
they were so ubiquitous.
Once again, the news is filled with
sadness and pain, this time the tornadoes in Oklahoma. We can only hope that
all those who are suffering will find the strength to rebuild and move forward.
Love,
Rebecca
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