Atlantic

When I was three I crossed the Atlantic twice. This is what I remember:

1. Standing on the deck waving goodbye to my father and my grandfather who were standing on the pier. I loved the streamers that were being thrown off the side.
2. Grapefruits for breakfast: I loved them. They were scarce in the war years and in the years just following.
3. The trio that played at tea time. I was fascinated with the cello.
4. Sheer frustration with my overalls' straps just after I had visited the heads.
5. Standing by the rail and looking down, way down, into the grey Novemeber water, and my mother telling me not to go any closer or I would fall over and never see my father again.
6. The steward bringing me a plate with a rectangle of red jello during s storm at sea. The jello was moving with the ship - back and forth.

So now, sixty years later in less than a month I shall sail across the Atlantic again. It was a dream that I never thought would be realized. And here's the ticket. It might really happen.