Home, Sweet Home

Descent started too early. I sat impatiently staring out over neverending snow-covered fields, the City nowhere to be seen. I began to doubt. Was that not the Hudson? Should the City not be appearing on my side of the airplane, after all? And then, finally, there it was. The thin needle that is the towering Empire State when seen from the air. Sweet little Woolworth's, that always seems so quaint to me. The piers just outside my apartment, stretching their grassy fingers across the icy water to New Jersey. My toes tingled, and here I was.

How quickly elation passed. Because this was not the nervous, excited arrival to a city brand new, unseen, unknown. This was me coming home. On the train in, I couldn't wait another minute to be there. To step onto Manhattan ground and breathe freely again. Suddenly feeling like I blended in. Remembering this space where I truly fit. I was going home, and it was the most wonderful feeling of all. My heart bubbled, giggled, danced, but my soul, was simply calm.