I moved here after living in Los Angeles for more years than I care to count, and I distinctly remember how it felt disembarking from the plane when I arrived. It felt as though I could breath for the first time in years. I didn’t date much, but I felt my beshert was nearby. And indeed he was. I met him 18 months after setting foot in New York and in the slightly over 2 years since then, we have moved apartments 3 times, gotten married, and had a son.
To keep things interesting, we are now leaving New York for a summer abroad in Europe and then relocating to Austin, Texas.
As I start to say my goodbyes, I find myself more emotional than the norm. I have moved several times in my life and never felt sentimental about a city before. I have a list of all the things to do, places to visit, and bodega men to say adios to before we leave, and the list keeps growing. This last weekend I said goodbye to Macy’s and those wonderful old, wooden escalators that I think of as stairways to heaven.
A few days ago I parted ways with the Met. It was just a brief visit as we have spent many hours together already, and I know our paths will cross again. The beauty of the Met always takes my breath away and this was no exception.
Next up was saying farewell to Central Park. It has been the place of so many special moments and memories. It will always remain one of my favorite places. I know I will be back some day and I hope to share stories with my children of the time when the park was mommy’s back yard.
It is easier to bid adieu to friends because we can keep in touch. But I do not foresee myself living in New York again, and friending Central Park on Facebook just isn’t the same. I am saying goodbye to being a New Yorker. This place becomes part of your identity whether you realize it or not, and it is hard to say goodbye to something that has become a part of you.
I could go on and on about all the things I will miss. But I need to focus on looking ahead or risk turning into a pillar of salt. I have waited so long for this moment. To be a wife and mother. To have a partner in all of life’s challenges. To create a home for my family.
As we pack up our belongings, vacate our apartment, and fly off into the sunset, I can feel the romance novel that was New York coming to a close. And as I begin writing an exciting new sequel, I just hope that our summer abroad isn’t compromised by my first trimester morning sickness.
Yes, I am pregnant. Crazy, huh? It seems like yesterday I had the chemical pregnancy.
And off we go…