On Leaving New York

A storm rolls into Bay Ridge, Brooklyn

Bittersweet is a word overused by me and nearly everyone else on the planet, but it's the single best word to describe how I feel about leaving New York in a month.

Sometimes "bitter" predominates, particularly on these perfect spring days when the city that never sleeps is so welcoming that you don't want to sleep either. But leaving seems particularly sweet when you're hauling two loads of laundry around the corner, or Paul has to spend 20 minutes finding a parking spot.

Needless to say, I'm looking forward to being closer to my family and Ohio friends. And equally obvious should be the fact that I'm going to miss the friends I've made in New York. But even aside from these connections, I'm going to miss Brooklyn and all of New York City themselves.

I'm still working this all out in my head, and when I do I'll have a longer blog post on the subject. It's difficult to explain, and I'm sure whatever I come up with will sound trite. I suspect this post already does.

In the meantime, life now is much more prosaic, filled with the ho-hum chores of packing, picking a moving company and finding an apartment we can call home until we find an actual home.