Tuckahoe is a place, a village, in Westchester County, New York. Not far from New York City.
I love saying it. Love the sound of it. So magical.
When I was young my dad would say, “Come on,we’re going to Tuckahoe”.
We were going to Tuckahoe to visit my Aunt Amy, a nun who lived in a convent there.
I always pictured Tuckahoe as a place of enchantment, a little jewel at the edge of a forest. Still do.
In reality, it’s like most of the other Westchester towns. Pleasing to the eye and quite affluent. Perhaps a bit smaller.
Today I live in Middletown. Middle. Mediocre. Dreadful.
I want to live in Tuckahoe. Moving to Aunt Amy’s convent is out of the question. Perhaps a studio apartment.
And then when people ask me where I’m from I’ll be able to say