Coming and going

June 26th marked one year of my living in New York City. Although I was in Texas on that date, I realized on coming back to New York how much my perception of the city has changed. Of course my "permanent" home with family and many friends is in Texas, but this city feels much more comfortable and familiar than I would have expected one year ago. (Expect an anniversary post soon!)

As Dad dropped me off at the airport Sunday afternoon, ominous charcoal clouds filled the expansive Texas sky, and the afternoon took on an eerie greenish hue. Soon I watched Jovian bolts electrifying the flat terrain for miles across the tarmac before fierce torrents rolled against the terminal windows. Instead of appreciating the rich blogging fodder, however, I was merely frustrated that the thunderstorms in Dallas diverted planes and delayed my direct flight--first by 30 minutes, then an hour, then two, and finally four hours. Rather than arrive at LaGuardia at 2030 Sunday evening as planned, I deplaned shortly after midnight and then waited another hour for a ponderous ground crew to unload the bags. The M60 bus doesn't run after 0100, and at that time at night, $30 for a cab to get home quickly seemed like a small price to pay.

Even more than missing sleep, however, I was disappointed because Sunday night was when I'd planned to go and tell William & Katherine bye. I'd missed the going away party, and they were moving out on Monday. At least I'd gotten the going away gift to them in advance, but it still seemed anticlimactic not to bid farewell in person to two of my best friends in the city.

As providence would have it, however, W&K's movers were also ponderously slow in packing up the apartment. I was able to drop by for a few minutes after work and see their place for the last time with its bare hardwood floors, echoing rooms, vacant windows peering out over Amsterdam, and empty kitchen in which so many meals I'd shared had been prepared. We gathered their luggage and the food they'd packed for the short road trip to Canada. And I was reminded that there's something very significant about a final, intentional pause before closing the door of one's home for the very last time. (I'm not sure William paused as long as I would have; he was more concerned about beating the rush hour traffic out of Manhattan.)

The whole experience of helping them carry their bags downstairs, loading the trunk of the rental car parked on the sunny avenue, and giving them a quick hug perhaps didn't have the same eloquence as the last episode of Fraiser (scene 15 in link), but at least it gave me some sense of completion of seeing these two friends off. Waco will be a better city for having them. And this crowded city will be just a little bit emptier.