Later this week marks a year we've been in New York. I'm not someone radically passionate about change. I can look forward with a reasonable amount of excitement and interest to something new, and enjoy it when it arrives, but not without some melancholy and regret about what I've left behind. Which means this year has been an interesting one.
When I got here there were things I loved and things I hated. I loved the more European feel of the East coast, but I missed the space of the West. Even Costco, which is always huge, is smaller (more cramped for space) in New York. I loved the architecture of the old houses, and hated the cost of living. I loved the colors of the leaves on the trees when the weather finally decided to cool down and let Fall arrive. I wasn't a big fan of getting into bed at night with sheets that felt a little damp from the humidity. I was so grateful to be in a neighborhood where there were several members of my church. I was baffled by the system of "playdates" and such. I was homesick for family and familiarity and thought I wouldn't get back home forever.
A year later I still love all that I did when I arrived here. I tolerate the narrowness of the shopping aisles and can call the streets "charming." The unfamiliar sounds of unfamiliar birds chirping at my window don't make me homesick anymore, because they are no longer unfamiliar. The idea of playdates is still a bit odd to me, and I am not good at it, but am trying to figure it out for the sake of my girls. I've made it home twice and was surprised the second time to realize I was actually excited to get back here. I've learned to navigate around enough that I can get to the most important places (Target, Costco, Home Depot and Michaels). I can't wait for Fall. I still hate the cost of living because it will be a huge factor if we ever consider staying here more permanently.
So, I'm settling in. Yes, still. (It takes me awhile.) Somedays I still feel like the new kid on the block, and like I have no idea where I'm going. But I have met some fantastic amazing people. I have a map in my car. And whenever it is that we move on, in one year or ten or twenty, I'll have some melancholy and regret about what I'll leave behind.