Moving Back and Moving Forward
My daughter is moving back to New York City! Next weekend we will be helping her move back, really move forward. We are all pretty happy about this move. She returned home, to her childhood bedroom, last March when the pandemic hit. She gave up her apartment in September since she was really living with us full-time, working hard as a lawyer remotely.
But the time has come for her to return to her independent life, even though the city is far from normal, and she will still work from her apartment. Interestingly enough, she is returning to her old building, but is now moving into a two-bedroom apartment that costs the same as her pre-pandemic one-bedroom apartment. So that’s a bit of icing on the proverbial cake.
She’s looking at furniture from West Elm and art from Anthropologie, and scouring pictures from Pinterest to find her aesthetic for the new apartment. And that’s fun and exciting. She has her previous stuff in a storage facility near us, so moving back should be easy, with a little more space to furnish. Her two cats will move back eventually, even though she laments their return to confinement. Those cats have loved the run of our house, open windows everywhere, and their buddy Mister.
We will miss the daily political conversations, the long dinners, the frequent technological support she provides, and just her daily presence in our lives. But she’s a car ride away, and she’ll be back and forth she says. She loves August on Long Island and being near the beach.
And so it goes. How nice would it be for life to go back to normal?