Day 2

Kramer is so lonely at home it’s breaking my heart. We set up a camera in our bedroom. Last night, he kept going into our room, looking for us, staring sadly at our bed, and then leaving only to return minutes later as if we might magically appear. I feel so bad for him. We need to get another cat so he isn’t all alone when we go away.

Every year at Christmas time, my father used to take me and G3 into Manhattan and one of the stops on our itinerary was St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Mom would have a wad of singles so G3 could light numerous candles—arguably his favorite thing to do in church. Today, G3 wanted to visit the National Cathedral. The nearest metro stop was a mile and a half away. You all know I love to walk, so not a problem for me. However, the idea of walking a mile and a half, simply to see a big church, did not appeal to Kati. She opted to sit at Panera and do some research to find Kramer a buddy. Apparently, cats are like potato chips and you can’t have just one.

G3 and I walk fast so we made excellent time. We got there for the 11:15 tour, but they only had one ticket available. I turned on the charm and managed to talk the ticket agent into selling me two tickets. Yay, me!

The Cathedral is Episcopalian and it wasn’t completed until 1990. I have no recollection of ever visiting before, so I am apt to say that when I came here with my parents (circa 1987) that we didn’t see it. But I will have to confirm with Mom next time I talk to her. While the Cathedral wasn’t completed until the latter part of the last century, work began in the first decade. In 1907, Teddy Roosevelt and his friends ceremoniously broke ground.

It was built in the gothic style from limestone quarried in Indiana. All gothic cathedrals have four common features. I remember learning this back in Sacred Heart, sometime in middle school, but the only feature that stands out in my memory is the flying buttresses. I remember them because my moronic teacher told us that the parish church had them. When I told my mother she got a good laugh. She still laughs when she thinks about it. Anyway. the four features common to gothic architecture are: flying buttresses (which push the weight of the structure inwards), vaulted ceilings and pointed arches (both of which redistribute weight), and finally, the presence of many stained glass windows. The windows were gorgeous, a beautiful blend of blues, reds, yellows, and greens. Sadly, it was cloudy so we couldn’t fully appreciate them.

One giant stained glass window at the back of the church, a brilliant starburst, has 10,000 one inch pieces of glass. The space window holds a moon rock which the astronauts brought back from the moon landing. There used to be a stain glass window of Stonewall Jackson and one of Robert E. Lee. They have been removed for political reasons and replaced with windows demonstrating the importance of protest in American democracy.

The tour guide made a huge deal about the statues of Washington and Lincoln, going on about how vitally important religion was to both men, and therefore, to the nation as a whole. Lincoln especially, because the first book he learned to read was the Bible (probably because it was the only book in his home) and because he allegedly used Bible stories as a way to relate to and connect with jurors. I wonder how much of that bit of her tour has been rewritten in an attempt to persuade tourists that we are inarguably a Christian nation, a nation that values the Bible as much as the Constitution.

Hanging from the ceiling in the nave are flags representing the states and territories that comprise our nation. Woodrow Wilson is the only president buried in the Cathedral. However, Senator John McCain, Madeline Albright, Colin Powell, and Sandra Day O’Conner all had their funerals there. After Matthew Shepard was brutally murdered, his parents sought a safe place to inter his ashes. His ashes are in the Cathedral, along with Helen Keller’s and Anne Sullivan’s.

Like all cathedrals, there are many small chapels. The memorial chapel is a place to remember men and women killed in action. There is a stone cross in the chapel made of stone from the Pentagon following the 9/11 attack. The kneeling cushions in one section of the cathedral contain the names of famous Americans. The Cathedral teamed up with the Smithsonian to generate a list of names. Reading them, you realize how insignificant women were for much of our history. How we were ignored and cut from the narrative. I am certain the same can be said for non-white people. In total, I counted only thirteen women’s names—but I counted quickly because G3 was loudly rolling his eyes, so I might have missed a few.

One of the gargoyles on one of the towers is sculpted to look like Darth Vader. G3 said he could see it, but my old eyes couldn’t. We went upstairs predominantly to see the view, but the clouds killed it. Before we left, G3 lit two candles: one for Nona and one for Grandpa.

After our tour and wandering around a bit on our own, we walked back to Panera for lunch and to pick up Kati. Our next stop was the National Museum of the American Indian. By the time we emerged from the Metro it was raining rather heavily. There was no avoiding getting wet on our walk to the museum. But it was only water and it wasn’t cold, so no big deal. Our visit to that particular museum was brief since we went specifically for G3 to satisfy a requirement for the Indian Lore merit badge. Plus, it was rather boring. As G3 said, “We’ve been to so many Native American historical sites, there’s not much new here.” He was right. One of the exhibits we went to was about the Battle of Little Bighorn. The pictures in the exhibit were of things we saw in person three summers ago. If my dad were here he’d call me a snob, maybe he’d be right. Maybe we just travel too much.

G3 really wanted to go to the National Museum of Natural History next. Since it was still raining and Kati didn’t want to get any more wet, she stayed behind. The walk was about fifteen minutes—enough to saturate me. G3 didn’t get too wet because he was the smart one who brought a rain jacket. On the way, we could see the Capitol building in the distance. I pointed it out and G3 commented, “That’s where the insurrection happened.” Yep, that’s where our democracy almost died at the hands of Trump. How is it, exactly, that he’s eligible to run again when his minions are in jail?

When G3 was three, his grandparents took him into Manhattan to go to the Natural History museum there. He absolutely loved it. It was by far one of the best days in his young life. The dinosaurs were his favorite. He enjoyed the trip so much that a year or two before Dad died, G3 asked to go back. Dad never said no to him and so we revisited the museum. Perhaps that’s why he wanted to go to the museum here. He remembered how much fun he had in NY. But he is quite a bit older now and nothing is as enjoyable without dad. He and I walked around the museum together, but I’m not sure how much he liked it. He raced through, glancing at exhibits, but not really seeing anything. The dinosaurs appeared to be anticlimactic. I’m just happy I didn’t have to pay to get in.

For dinner, we went back into the Old Town of Alexandria. I really like that city and I was disappointed that the rain persisted because I had been hoping for a leisurely walk through the city. Oh well, I am no stranger to disappointment. We ate at the Hard Times Cafe. If you ever find yourself in or near Alexandria when you are hungry you must stop. They had the second best nachos we’ve ever had. (The best G3 and I had were in Hot Springs, Arkansas.) And the chili and corn bread were mighty tasty. While we ate, my family made fun of the way I enthusiastically call our cat. They told me I sounded scary and just frightened him. I disagree because he never runs away when I call him. They also made fun of me for having terrible taste in cat names. I feel so unloved.

It’s close to bed time and Kramer has resumed his search for us. He walks into our room, looks around, stares longingly at our bed and then leaves only to come back. Poor little guy is so lonely. He does need a four legged friend.