Keys


Such a small thing: a jingly set of keys.

But such a big BIG we're-talkin'-HUHYOOGE deal for us.

We found a place to live. Our nomadic days are over. No longer will we spend every free moment trying to find the next place to live. No more moving every few days/two weeks. Finished are the feelings of desperate hope when we get so close, followed by the stabby shards of discouragement when things don't work out. Again.

I will miss the exploring - the getting to know a place like only living there allows. I will miss the new restaurants, parks, shops, ambiance, people - all the things that changed as much as our address every time we moved.

I will not miss cleaning other people's sheets/floors/toilets.

I will not miss having no iron. Seriously. For two months, we have been wrinkly.

I will not miss having to re-buy food items, or console children over toys lost or left-behind. I will not miss being so desperately tired after another move only to be faced with it again in a few days. I will not miss apartments with no elevator or unforgiving neighbors or sketchy stretches of sidewalk between me and home.

I will not miss feeling like I don't really live here. I'm not a tourist, but I'm not a resident. In-between. Nowhere. And I will NOT miss having to explain our situation every week at church, and watching people's eyes glaze over with disinterest when they learn we may not actually be in the ward. I will not miss feeling invisible in the one place I should feel I belong.

I now have time to blog!

I now have an address. I have KEYS.

I, ladies and gentlemen, finally and legitimately have New York.

So. Who's coming to visit?