By Marie Bombeck It has been a month since I came back from New York City. This Midwestern girl was excited to spread her arms wide and not hit anyone on the subway. But that being said, going to New York was an experience I will never forget. I came back a little heavier, a little poorer, but much more inspired. How could I not come back inspired when there is so much art, so much history, and so much life? And when I say so much life, I meant so many lives. There were so many people. I have never seen so many people in my life. They are everywhere; on the subway, in the elevator. Even in the art museums. But people mind their own business. I was completely smooshed against a complete stranger on the subway and we just avoided eye contact. No conversation was made. No small talk. Then that person would step off the subway car and I would never see them again. Yes, there tons of people. Yes, there were tall buildings. But I kept thinking things looked smaller in real life than they did on TV. Times Square seemed small. The sidewalks seemed small. I don’t think I could take in the magnitude of this city until we went to the 86th floor of the Empire State Building. At the top, you see it all. The skyline was littered with light and it was stretched in every direction. The city never ended until it met water. Beyond the horizon, there were more lights. It amazed me how many people came to this city and stayed. I can’t speak for all New Yorkers, but I think I know why they stayed. They love being in the center of it all. They loved the diversity. There are always things to see, do, and eat. Oh, yes, eating. I could have stayed an extra week to just eat more food. My husband made a detailed list of all the food we ate. And boy did we eat. We ate some fantastic things. I tried things I never thought I would try, like Japanese inspired tacos. To this day, I am not sure what leafy greens I ate but it was delicious. The best place though was Udon West which was a ramen place. I don’t mean the ramen like the packets starving college kids make. I mean authentic ramen, the kind they serve with chop sticks. I was the one person who had to ask for a fork, but I would eat that again. When we were not eating, we were absorbing so much art that our fingers started to itch to grab a pencil and sketch. I wanted to sit down and write and write and write. But I also didn’t want to stop. I wanted to see all I could see. However, we got to the point that we had seen so much art, we couldn’t absorb anymore. We were “arted” out. Our last day there, we walked across the Brooklyn Bridge. It was nice to absorb in the skyline and enjoy the view. And what a view it was. Again, the height of the building and the amount of people amazed me. Some of Americans got crowded and headed west. But there is something that pulls people here. I felt it that pull. I can’t describe what it is, but there is pull. You can feel the pulse of this city that never sleeps. There is energy in the people who live here. I can see why they stayed. I feel it. I can feel why they love it here. But when my plane took off back towards Nebraska, I knew why I loved my state, my home. The slowness we can feel. The sense of urgency from the city melted with every 100 miles the plane flew toward the center of this great land. I feel a different love for life here in Nebraska. But my heart will remember the rush of life it felt in New York City.
0 Comments
By Marie Bombeck
Last Saturday was a quiet Saturday morning in my house. My husband was still asleep when I woke up. So I went downstairs, I made coffee. Then I settled into the couch with my book. Above me on the top of the couch, one cat was staring out the window. I heard a small cackle when something caught his attention outside. The other was sleeping soundly in the recliner. And at my feet, the newest addition to our family snored. Tucker, the nine-year-old cocker spaniel, has been my newest joy. The cat person in me didn’t realize how much I could love a dog. I quietly sipped my coffee. I looked down and looked at the handle of my mug. There is a big chip in the handle. Great, I thought. I mean it is not my favorite coffee mug, but it definitely the third or fourth choice if the favorite is dirty. (I know you know the one.) Then I look at my finger nails and notice of course my nails are chipped too. Huh, is that the theme of my life? Chipped? I look around my living room at all the chipped and imperfect things. The paint is chipping off the walls. The wooden arms of the couch have scratched. The throw pillows that are becoming impossibly lumpy… But then Tucker’s snore interrupted my thoughts. Gizmo meowed softly and rubbed his head against me. Dobby licked herself in her sleep and rolled back over. I heard a creak upstairs as my husband started to stir. I looked at this incredible little family I have. More animals than humans, but it’s the perfect ratio. Also it is incredible that we were all in one room. Because when Tucker came to his forever home, his kitty siblings were not enthused. They hissed. They hid. Fur flew. Backs arched. My heart chipped to see my cats so unhappy. Tucker didn’t understand why the cats didn’t like him. He tries to approach nice and slow to sniff their heads. But the cats would bat at him or run away. But here we are a week later, and we can coexist. No, it is not perfect yet. But hey, nothing is. Now, even though life can be chipped, our world can be turned upside down, we can adjust. We can adapt and make room for new people, new animals in our hearts. Our feelings can be chipped. Our hearts can get chipped, but we can move along and enjoy the moments of perfections that do come along. So don’t look for the things that are chipped in your life. Look for the things that are absolutely perfect the way they are. There may be many chips in my life, but right now my family isn’t one of them. |
Marie BombeckSharing thoughts and stories that we all probably have had. Archives
September 2018
Categories |