New York

At the wedding last weekend, an old friend who I hadn't seen since my wedding 5 years ago asked about my plans to move to New York. I didn't even remember that having been my plan, which I told her. She gave me a look like she felt sorry for me. It's entirely possible I read way too much into her face and she was really trying to work a seed out from between her teeth or something. But, the vibe I got was that she saw me as tragic. Ugh.

Digging back into my memory, I certainly remember talking about wanting to live in New York. I love it. I've loved it since my dad first took me there for my golden birthday in 1992. I love the energy- how it makes me feel so alive. I love the anonymity - that I can sit on a park bench in Washington Square with Sarah, Starbucks, and cigarettes, and cry big crocodile tears and nobody walking by even thinks twice about it. And, even when I first started law school, Eduardo and I thought we might move to New York after I finished.

But a lot happened. When my Grandpa got sick in 2006 and died within 6 weeks of finding out he was sick, while at the same time my Dad was having a health scare, it changed my perspective about how far (near) I want to be to my family. If my Dad had been dying, there was no way in the world I would leave him for any job.

Then, in early 2007, we found out I was pregnant. It was earlier than we had planned, but it only reinforced how important it is to me to be near my family. I don't want to raise a kid in New York. I never have wanted that. I don't want to raise a kid without lots of family around. I always felt very lucky to live so close to my grandparents (Eduardo was very close to his too) and to have real relationships with them. When I see Johan start clapping and laughing when we turn onto 42nd Street before my Dad and Ev's house even comes into view, I know we are doing right by being in Minnesota. When Johan leads the way up the stairs and through the hallway maze to my mom's condo without missing a beat, I know we made the right decisions.

This isn't meant to be an excuse. But sometimes plans change. It's not tragic. It's not a pity. It's a fulfilling job; a lovely house; deep true friends; close family; a stable, loving marriage; and the best little bebe in whole wide world.

So, maybe I didn't remember that I was going to move to New York. Or maybe I just had some wine and she was trying to get a seed out of her teeth. Life is long; there's a lot ahead of us and I have a feeling that Washington Square will still be there when I get back.