People ask, “Why Rhode Island?” My niece Julia, her husband Dan and their children Sam and Sylvia live here. I was close to Julia when she was young, but hardly know her children. I’ve seen them less times than their ages of eight and eleven. I’ve never been to Rhode Island and have spent little time in New England. This is an opportunity to reconnect with family and see the leaves change.
Cranston, a town of 83,000 people, is a suburb of Providence and sits on the shoreline of the Narragansett Bay. The town is old, incorporated as a town in 1754 and as a city in 1910. The charming Pawtuxet Village, touted as the oldest little village in Rhode Island, is 1.2 miles from the carriage house I’m renting. It’s the perfect walk down Broad Street to Beans & Buns where I get my morning coffee and scone. We return home by the water where a wide grassy path separates the sidewalk and the shoreline. Wrought iron benches with wooden slats dedicated to loved ones overlook the bay, sailboats and Rhode Island Yacht Club.
If you’ve seen my social media posts, you know how beautiful the homes are. Yellow, green, red, blue and even pink clapboard houses are interspersed with red brick dwellings. Wraparound porches, large bay windows, sprawling yards and America flags enhance their elegance.
Until the end of October, I am living in the carriage house of an 1896 three-story yellow house, part wood, part shingles, with green-shingled roof and shutters. The first level of my two-story residence is a kitchen with a dining table in front of sliding glass doors overlooking the pool. In between the kitchen and table is a side chair facing a small television. A full-sized, stacked washer and dryer are tucked in the corner, the first rental on my trip to have them, a welcome utility. Up the wooden, carpeted stairs to the vaulted second story, to the right is a living room with three unique sofas, one a black leather futon with two beige fur throws. A large glass coffee table on a gray shag rug sits between the sofas and substantial television. To the left of the stairs is a king-size bed and a walk-in dressing closet. A rust-tiled bathroom is in the middle. The art throughout is lovely, several pieces are collections of metal birds and fish, which reminds me of the saying, “A bird and a fish can fall in love, but where will they live?”
At the end of my wide, tree-lined street is Roger Williams Park, 435 acres, including 100 acres of lakes. I didn’t realize how big the park is until writing this post. No wonder I got lost when navigating the park the second day I was in town. I see that they have Food Truck Friday so I know where I’ll be going tonight.
Julia, a nurse at Women and Infants Hospital in Providence, works with high-risk patients with diabetes, counseling them on diet and nutrition. She loves what she does but the department is short-handed. Her work partner is on medical leave and cannot be replaced while on leave. Days were busy enough with the two of them, and now the workload falls on Julia. As Julia describes her situation, I think of my own (past) work life. The Bank had the same policy, not replacing someone on leave, two different industries, same issue. Corporations lose good people because of this practice, and it needs to be changed.
Dan is a Professor of Religious Studies at Brown University. Until I asked, I thought he taught about the history and practices of world religions. What he actually teaches is the how religion affects our lives in everything from the economy to consumerism to politics. This semester’s course “Christmas in America,” explores how Christmas became a religious, consumer and social extravaganza. I’m excited to join a couple of classes while I’m here.
Sam is an excellent big brother, a great disc jockey and a budding sailor. Now at different schools, Sam meets his little sister with a hug when her school lets out. We’ll see how long that lasts, but for now it’s a precious sight. Sam and Dan took Arden and me on a sailboat ride Saturday, a first for both of us. I witnessed firsthand the familiar, yet foreign, terms like boom, jibe, rudder and tacking. While sailing, Sam treated us to an amazing playlist of rock classics on his solar boombox, and again on Sunday when, the “Funky DJ” brought his portable speakers to my house to rock by the pool.
On Wednesday’s I’m on deck to pick up Sylvia after school and hang around while she and her schoolmates blow off steam on the playground. I got schooled as I attempted to take a picture of Sylvia. “It would be embarrassing for my aunt to take a picture of me on the monkey bars because that’s a kindergarten thing.” Point taken. God Bless children who say what they think. I hope she maintains her forthrightness as she ages. “What is that line on your eyes,” she asks scrunching her nose and pointing. “That’s eyeliner. It helps bring out my eyes. I don’t have pretty eyelashes like you,” I replied. “I do have pretty eyelashes. Sam does too, and so do Mom and Dad. I guess you could call us the ‘pretty eyelash family.’”
