One of the most blissful and monumental memories of my childhood is sitting next to my father, Tom, in the dark of Strasenburgh Planetarium in Rochester, New York — gazing up at the stars and out into the infinite universe, my small hand tightly holding the hand of the man I loved most in that universe…and who loved me in return with equal, singular devotion. Along with the very first time I held each of my children on the day of their birth — this memory is my “Happy Place.” It is where I go in my head when I need to feel safe and enveloped in utter, buttery love.
Saturday night, I made my way to yet another planetarium, to once again gaze up at the distant stars — only this time, I had my darling and adored husband, Gregory, on one side of me, and my darling and adored gusband, Jackie Beat, on the other. As I held their hands, looking up into infinity, I thought of my Daddy in New York, and I felt at one with everything…completely filled with amazement and boundless gratitude at my great fortune to live a life filled with such loving, supportive, brilliant, fascinating men.
I surely must have been born under a lucky star.