I Love New York

I’ve spent the past five days running around New York City, a combination of fun and work purposes. Over the weekend, my hubby and I spent time on the Lower East Side – hanging out at various little cozy restaurants, drinking in some classy and not-so-classy bars, walking all over lower Manhattan. Then on Monday, with work duties looming, we went to an uptown hotel near Times Square and spent time after work hours exploring this part of town. It had been over 10 years since the last time I was here and I definitely don’t want to wait another 10 before I come back.

Two things really gave me pause. The first and foremost was the 9/11 Memorial. The last time I was in New York was 2005. A few people and I went to the site of the World Trade Center, which at that time was still an active crime scene. I actually didn’t want to go; but because the people I was with were my business clients, I went. I was grateful to have sunglasses on so no one could see me weeping. The thought of so many lives, innocent lives, taken reduced me to tears. The thought of so many anxious families waiting for the inevitable news that their loved one was gone… well, let’s just say that the place conjures up some heartbreaking emotions. This weekend, my hubby and I went back to the spot, now cleaned up and turned into an elegant memorial with two deep reflecting pools outlining the original footprint of the towers, encircled by granite where the names of those who perished inscribed all around. Its simplicity manages to both humanize the dead and overwhelm the visitor with the magnitude of the loss of life. I again was glad for my sunglasses, as tears sprang to my eyes. I couldn’t stop wondering about the people whose names were etched there. Were they nice people? Did they like cats or dogs? Did they have any brothers or sisters that they were extra close to? Did they enjoy music, reading, or traveling like I do? Would I have liked them if I had had the chance to meet them?

But it was jarring to say the least that such a sober monument to man’s inability to get along with each other on this planet was filled with people running around with their selfie sticks. The ultimate in self-centeredness in a spot that should be uniting people… Anyway…

The second thing that gave me pause was thinking that as much as I enjoyed running around New York, there was the fact that I might not have been around to enjoy it. Had my pink spot not been taken off when it was, I might have had a very different outcome. It was also sobering to realize that had I not gone to the dermatologist when I did, my entire experience this time might not have happened. That’s the weird thing about gratitude. It sneaks up on you when you least expect it. And really, I am grateful for being able to do the things I do in a way that wasn’t as genuine before the pink spot popped up. I am a little sad and angry with my previous self for not being in awe of all of the cool things I have seen and experienced. When I find myself drifting back into complacency, I sometimes need the reminder that every day I have here is a gift. Sometimes it’s something big, like the 9/11 Memorial, that shakes me out of this passivity. Sometimes it’s the small thing, like a slice of perfect NY style pizza, that does it.

I guess my ramblings all come down to this: you shouldn’t need a trip to the big city to remind you that today might be the last day you have here. What would you do differently if you knew? And then put that into practice everyday. Be grateful for the time you have, the people around you, the experiences that are uniquely yours…