We are now 36 hours from the close of Campanile. It’s been a month long wake. Great to see people, lots of drinking, yet tinge of sadness. It’s hard to write about as I’m going through. I did finally cry yesterday. I was talking to a total stranger. A friend of a waiter who had a kind face and without expecting I blubbered for a few seconds.
My sister’s said “we want to be there for you for the last night, to support you.” Really, why? I thought at first, so deep is my survival denial. But, now it’s sinking in. The epicenter of my husband’s professional life and that which we schedule most of our family life around is closing it’s doors. Forever.
Will there be other projects, jobs? Sure, but the place where my husband cemented his reputation, where I accidentally walked in one day and met the man I would marry and have babies with is closing. Forever.
I saw the chef and restaurateur who are taking over the building in there the other day looking at the space with their architect. Sizing up their remodel. I said nothing. I turned away. LIke seeing a body measured for a coffin before it’s cold. That chef blabbed to a food blogger before Mark could speak to his staff. I have nothing to say to him.
This reminds me of when I had to sell my house years ago post Madoff. One more fucking loss.
I am an optimist and I always try to keep it together for my kids and show them that no matter what the core is our family. But, I have to find a way to process this, feel it so I can move on. I think that’s often the hard part for parents. How do you go through your own emotional crap without inflicting it on your kids?
I’m going to shoot “Vivien’s Campanile” today.
A video of how she has seen it. Per her request I cannot share it outside of our family. I want to record her memories, her special hiding places. My dear step daughter Vanessa has come out from NYC for the close ( and happily missing Sandy).
It’s great to have her here.
I still am not clear how I feel… maybe next week I’ll know.