
This weekend will mark the end of an era - John Henry's family is closing up the 8Th Avenue "penthouse." I know John Henry would LOVE that I'm calling it that! ;-P
I say it's the end of an era because as most of you know the many large and small gatherings held there could be compared to an era. Like the last days of disco - the times, the people, the memories are like no other and can never be duplicated.
The hardest part is not going there anymore. Being in his space just brings to mind all the Scrabble games played on the floor in front of the fireplace, the packed parties where there were so many people you could barely move from one end of the apartment to the other, and the evenings spent on the deck just having drinks and chilling out. I will miss the way I feel when I stand in the bedroom that he painted because he "wanted to feel like he was at the beach." Whether it be Hawaii or Fire Island, his mission was accomplished!
One of my fondest memories at the apartment was when I sat on the white flokati rug with John Henry, David, and Kevin and just lounging in front of the fire place, told them I was taking them all to see Madonna in concert for their respective birthdays. It was a big deal to me because, at a time when I was broke and was not going to be able to go to one of her concerts, they all chipped in and had bought me a ticket. Now, at a better time in my life, I had the chance to repay what to me was a very sweet gift. I will never forget the looks on their faces as we lounged on that rug and the happiness I felt just seeing it. It wouldn't seem like much to someone else, but it is a memory that keeps coming back to me these past few weeks and making me smile inside.
The nice thing is that even though we will miss the irreplaceable time we have spent there, we are keeping those memories when we walk out of that orange hallway. They won't be contained in those walls but, as John Henry reminds us, within each of us.
What are some of your favorite memories of the 8Th Avenue apartment?
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