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Changing Homes: Forward to the Past

Changing Homes: Forward to the Past

 

I was pretty footloose as a young person, a Foreign Service child living three or four years at a time in several different countries. College and law school were impecunious stages requiring frequent moves. Then--a real job, and I ended up in an apartment in FiDi (not called anything so jazzy back then) for nearly two decades. I loved the stability, and I loved downtown, where Manhattan is narrow and rivers bound its perimeters. 

Then marriage, and another move, this time for more than two decades, to raise a family in Chelsea, near Union Square. Fabulous neighborhood. The raising worked out well, so the children have launched, each in a  perfectly suited college. I do not like being left behind, though, so my husband and I decided to move too. 

We are going back downtown--a very different downtown than in the 1970s and 80s, but still historic and water-bounded. I love the history, and I love seeing that we are on an island. I also love that the physical damage wreaked by 9/11 has been overcome, with style and vigor. Lots of new buildings are all around, like Frank Gehry's 8 Spruce, and wonderfully renovated ones, like The Beekman--a truly gorgeous structure that was empty the whole time I lived here before.

Our new apartment is smaller (no need for a playroom any more) but with space for everyone. And it is fun discovering where to get groceries (note to purveyors--the food situation could be better), and dry cleaning, and where to have a Campari and soda. 

But what a painful process. Our new apartment needed work, partly to install lighting, as I detest lamps. The architect assured us it was not a big job. Easy, the contractor said. But no. Ropes of tangled wires, and jagged holes, everywhere. The contractor himself said that the apartment looked as if a bomb had gone off. Many delays. Had I realized how this process would go, I would have had a hypnotist get me over my negative view of lamps. Too late now.

We have moved in. Still a construction site, so Thanksgiving was a little haphazard. Very good-natured workers still arrive early each day. But the end is coming. Soon we will have our home to ourselves. I look forward to that day.

I do not regret moving, bittersweet though it was the last time I walked away from the family home, leaving the keys behind for the next occupants--another family with young girl-boy twins! It is good for us to move toward new adventures with our sophisticated and independent children, in a new neighborhood that will stimulate new ideas. Onward we go. 

 

Why Does Frances McDormand Want To Be Invisible?

Why Does Frances McDormand Want To Be Invisible?

Moving and Moving On

Moving and Moving On