five years have passed since we moved to nyc and this time of year always brings up memories. i know it's been a difficult year for so many of you, and in broader terms, it's been a difficult year for our country as a whole. remembering the good stuff is essential.
we've been thinking a lot lately about moving (within our same hood, of course) and it's such an emotionally charged decision for me. sam wiggins was a puppy when we moved into the building and we've literally built our lives here. but at some point i realize maybe the only thing keeping me here is memories of the past. a leak sprung through the ceiling last week (same as it did last year) and i had to think, is this my sign to peace outta here? perhaps. but i have an attachment to this apartment that i can't even describe. well, i can describe... it's our first new york apartment. we made ourselves a family in this 500 square feet.
ed and i were sitting at our coffee shop last weekend remembering the horror of finding an apartment in the city for the first time. we schlepped our way through the upper west side with an 18 year old real estate broker in frigid temperatures (and snow) that my southern blood was not yet used to. there are still two starbucks in the neighborhood i can't bare to go inside because i only remember the hours we spent there waiting on a phone call.
anyway, on that same apartment hunting trip, i had a couple job interviews. we parted ways in the morning- ed to his new job to fill out paperwork and me to queens to interview for a nutritionist position at a rehab hospital. the interview sucked (everything happens for a reason!) and i headed back to the city lost as an easter egg only hoping i was on the right train. i got off the subway at bryant park trying to figure out what it meant to transfer (seriously) and i spot ed getting on the opposite train headed in the right direction. i yell his name and run towards the train, barely making it in before the doors close. if you live in nyc, you know how unlikely it is to find your significant other on the train at the same time and place.
after a few days of bad interviews and no luck in the apartment search, doubt had surely crept in. but ridiculously, in that moment, without speaking, our uncertainty was erased as if somehow this meet up meant everything was going to be ok. five years later, it's still ok.
when i'm weighing important decisions, i always find comfort in "everything happens for a reason." i can almost always find some sort of sign leading me to the right choice. the hard part is being aware of it.