Hi Audrey! We actually weren't sure it was still there because it's such a tiny place. We couldn't recall if we had seen it post-pandemic and this place used to have lines out the door. We went searching for it last week and was surprised it was still there! Not as cheap (or frankly, as good) as it used to be, but happy to support the Syrian family-owned business.
This is lovely. Don't worry, you will adjust to the empty nester life and learning to love exhaling now and again. There's also the fact that young adult kids tend to come back and forth for a while before they settle. So there's that. You may find it an intrusion if they return!
I’m packing up stuff and throwing away more in a house that I’ve lived in for 33 years now, for one kid, her entire life and the other, his life minus six years, preparing to sell and moving halfway across the world (my also home 😀) Nobody tells you about the ghosts, the ghosts that stop you cold and forces tears as you remove photos from the walls, books from shelves. It’s just a house, right?! Just a house.
We live in NYC – I have no room for the overflow of stuff! When they both moved to college I had them clean out everything except for the stuff they absolutely wanted to keep. I'm nostalgic and sentimental by default, but living in an apartment has forced me not to be too attached to things at least!
I packed up my entire library (except for a couple books I’m planning on reading on the last plane out of here) at Thanksgiving and they are now at my son’s house upstate (I’ll likely stop over in NYC/Kingston for a week or two before leaving for good… we’ll see, I owe @AnneKadet a busking of Moon River on harmonica on a subway platform 😀)
THAT was hard… an entire house with like five books in it… down from thousands… anyway… the rest the stuff is mostly just stuff, not so sentimental. But it’s the door jamb that got marked with heights, the hallway someone busted through when they made a HS soccer team, the wall where the tv was when I was rocking a baby to sleep at 2am… there are ghosts in every space I didn’t see until I started leaving… sounds like a whole newsletter, but not right now… 😢
Well that's something different altogether (and are you leaving the country?). Packing up your entire house. I guess I don't really have such an attachment because my parents hadn't lived in the house we grew up in since I left NYC in the 90s. I'm not even sure I have a strong attachment to this apartment that I've lived in for 20 years now, which is kind of odd for me. But I can understand the cleaning. So many of my friends are cleaning up their parents' houses that they grew up it. It's hard. All of it.
Denmark. Living between DK and NY, never going further in than that when I come back. Ten boxes, four suitcases. That’s it. What doesn’t fit gets sold or shoved to the curb! No sense expecting a new life amongst old stuff. The stuff is the easy part; the space in between is where all the ghosts dance. I’m blessed — cursed — with a vivid mental camera with full sound. I can hear voices as they were uttered 3-4 decades back, see images play in full color as they just flood in unannounced. Anyway, it’s a year-long process…
Since you are new to me, I am still calibrating. You seem so much younger than you apparently are. Since I am originally from NYC (Midtown East) I have similar memories, but I rarely go back now because the city has changed so much... it might as well be Chicago. My school is gone, Woolworth's and Lamston's are gone, most of my restaurants are gone. The Peace Cafe is gone in your area. At least there is still Katz's, though, on the lower east side. I love places like you describe...it's good to know B&H is still there for the moment.
Hi Jeff! I'm 54, so grew up in NYC in the 70s and 80s. Left for 5 years to the NW in the early 90s and came back and have been here since, raising two kids who are in college now. The city has definitely changed to the point where it's unrecognizable, but also – as sentimental as I am – it's sort of ok? I guess because my kids grew up here so I've been making new memories on top of the old ones. And yes, there is Katz's, which I will confess I've only ever been in once or twice. It's a tourist attraction! With lines out the door lol.
Frankly, I'm puzzled by this too given what a sentimental sap I am! I don't know what my aversion is to certain things, but I can only say that sometimes I don't want to ruffle old memories, if that makes sense.
Thank you for being honest about the untangling years. That window when the kids first leave and neither of us know how to go from being under one roof to being a hostel so they can come back and visit their friends to being a guest once they get settled somewhere, all while reminding ourselves to give them space, don't hover, find our own new life.
It's a weird, complicated, wonderful, and confusing time. Just so many emotions all at once all the time. I'm sure it gets settled at some point, but I'm in that really strange liminal time for sure.
I know this wasn't your intention at all but I was telling my husband about this post and burst into tears (at the table, having dinner with my toddler and baby). On a different note, NY is such an unreal place in my mind that I love reading about it like this, like it's just like my town in the south of Spain.
I love B&H… I went often when I was in Grad School in my early 20’s, back in the late 90’s and lived in the East Village. I have taken my college age kids when we visit NY and it felt like a strange overlap in time. I love the Borscht, though when I eat it I always think about ruining my coat one winter by spilling the soup all down my front. It was too thin a coat for NY winters (I came there from CA) but I was so broke, it was a hardship to replace! I feel like those memories of that time are the clearest in my mind.
The 17th St falafel joint! I won't tell you how many decades ago I frequented the place. Mmm
Hi Audrey! We actually weren't sure it was still there because it's such a tiny place. We couldn't recall if we had seen it post-pandemic and this place used to have lines out the door. We went searching for it last week and was surprised it was still there! Not as cheap (or frankly, as good) as it used to be, but happy to support the Syrian family-owned business.
This is lovely. Don't worry, you will adjust to the empty nester life and learning to love exhaling now and again. There's also the fact that young adult kids tend to come back and forth for a while before they settle. So there's that. You may find it an intrusion if they return!
Mary, I already find it a disruption now! Of course I love having them home, but it takes getting used to when I'm used to the quiet!
I’m packing up stuff and throwing away more in a house that I’ve lived in for 33 years now, for one kid, her entire life and the other, his life minus six years, preparing to sell and moving halfway across the world (my also home 😀) Nobody tells you about the ghosts, the ghosts that stop you cold and forces tears as you remove photos from the walls, books from shelves. It’s just a house, right?! Just a house.
We live in NYC – I have no room for the overflow of stuff! When they both moved to college I had them clean out everything except for the stuff they absolutely wanted to keep. I'm nostalgic and sentimental by default, but living in an apartment has forced me not to be too attached to things at least!
I packed up my entire library (except for a couple books I’m planning on reading on the last plane out of here) at Thanksgiving and they are now at my son’s house upstate (I’ll likely stop over in NYC/Kingston for a week or two before leaving for good… we’ll see, I owe @AnneKadet a busking of Moon River on harmonica on a subway platform 😀)
THAT was hard… an entire house with like five books in it… down from thousands… anyway… the rest the stuff is mostly just stuff, not so sentimental. But it’s the door jamb that got marked with heights, the hallway someone busted through when they made a HS soccer team, the wall where the tv was when I was rocking a baby to sleep at 2am… there are ghosts in every space I didn’t see until I started leaving… sounds like a whole newsletter, but not right now… 😢
Well that's something different altogether (and are you leaving the country?). Packing up your entire house. I guess I don't really have such an attachment because my parents hadn't lived in the house we grew up in since I left NYC in the 90s. I'm not even sure I have a strong attachment to this apartment that I've lived in for 20 years now, which is kind of odd for me. But I can understand the cleaning. So many of my friends are cleaning up their parents' houses that they grew up it. It's hard. All of it.
Denmark. Living between DK and NY, never going further in than that when I come back. Ten boxes, four suitcases. That’s it. What doesn’t fit gets sold or shoved to the curb! No sense expecting a new life amongst old stuff. The stuff is the easy part; the space in between is where all the ghosts dance. I’m blessed — cursed — with a vivid mental camera with full sound. I can hear voices as they were uttered 3-4 decades back, see images play in full color as they just flood in unannounced. Anyway, it’s a year-long process…
Since you are new to me, I am still calibrating. You seem so much younger than you apparently are. Since I am originally from NYC (Midtown East) I have similar memories, but I rarely go back now because the city has changed so much... it might as well be Chicago. My school is gone, Woolworth's and Lamston's are gone, most of my restaurants are gone. The Peace Cafe is gone in your area. At least there is still Katz's, though, on the lower east side. I love places like you describe...it's good to know B&H is still there for the moment.
Hi Jeff! I'm 54, so grew up in NYC in the 70s and 80s. Left for 5 years to the NW in the early 90s and came back and have been here since, raising two kids who are in college now. The city has definitely changed to the point where it's unrecognizable, but also – as sentimental as I am – it's sort of ok? I guess because my kids grew up here so I've been making new memories on top of the old ones. And yes, there is Katz's, which I will confess I've only ever been in once or twice. It's a tourist attraction! With lines out the door lol.
Yes, it can be a zoo...I won't go if its that crowded.
I am impressed at your discipline in avoiding old haunts! I am a terrible nostalgist, and can never resist them.
Frankly, I'm puzzled by this too given what a sentimental sap I am! I don't know what my aversion is to certain things, but I can only say that sometimes I don't want to ruffle old memories, if that makes sense.
yeah, I can see that :)
Thank you for being honest about the untangling years. That window when the kids first leave and neither of us know how to go from being under one roof to being a hostel so they can come back and visit their friends to being a guest once they get settled somewhere, all while reminding ourselves to give them space, don't hover, find our own new life.
It's a weird, complicated, wonderful, and confusing time. Just so many emotions all at once all the time. I'm sure it gets settled at some point, but I'm in that really strange liminal time for sure.
I love your writing.
Thank you so much, Kris. That means so much 🫶
I know this wasn't your intention at all but I was telling my husband about this post and burst into tears (at the table, having dinner with my toddler and baby). On a different note, NY is such an unreal place in my mind that I love reading about it like this, like it's just like my town in the south of Spain.
Oh Rebecca, no not my intention, but 💕
I love B&H… I went often when I was in Grad School in my early 20’s, back in the late 90’s and lived in the East Village. I have taken my college age kids when we visit NY and it felt like a strange overlap in time. I love the Borscht, though when I eat it I always think about ruining my coat one winter by spilling the soup all down my front. It was too thin a coat for NY winters (I came there from CA) but I was so broke, it was a hardship to replace! I feel like those memories of that time are the clearest in my mind.