The past two weeks have been a frenzy of preparations to leave this city that has been home to me for years now. The last box is sealed, all the cabinets are empty and the quiet silence that is no computer, no TV, no radio has given me a space to pause and consider and finally, after all this, feel sad to be leaving. It's been hard not to let emotions get the upper-hand when looking at the distant Manhattan skyline as I walk toward the subway, a view I saw on my way to work every weekday for so long, or looking at the beautiful decay of the brick railroad apartment buildings on my block, or at the tears in my 93-year-old neighbors eyes when she says she will always remember me and John and "Yo quiero mucho mucho," or, or, or. The list is growing.
I spoke to my mom tonight and told her I was feeling a bit sad now that the busy-ness has subsided. I remembered that she also moved west after living in New York in the late 60s, so I asked her, "What did you feel when you left New York?" There was a pregnant pause before she made her considered and thoughtful reply:
"Nothing."
I won't reiterate my firm stance that my mother may be a robot, but I forgive her this because a) she's always looking forward which is a good lesson for me (who is always looking back) lest I be turned in to a pillar of salt and b) she said the word 'tish' again during the conversation and it doesn't get much cuter than that!!
New York: I'm gonna miss you. But I'll be back.
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