Update on my new life

I’ve been in my new home for just about a month now, working my way through many layers of adjustment. After 25 years of living solo, suddenly I’m living with four other people. School started after Labor Day and we’re figuring out a routine for getting the boys to and from school, sharing meals a few times a week, and throwing in an occasional adventure.

I expected that adapting to life in NY would be challenging, and it is certainly that. People who have spent their entire life in the City have no idea just how different things are here. In many respects, it feels like I’m living in a different country. For one thing, in Queens, I never know if the person I meet on the street speaks English. I’m also learning whole new ways of dealing with trash, thinking through how much space I have in my home before I buy items at the grocery, and pretty much obsessing over parking spaces and the hours when they’re available. (I’ve seen more than one car towed in my neighborhood.)

Driving is always an adventure. Dodging cars double and triple parked, people skateboarding in the street, remembering not to turn right on red, and quickly turning left on a green light before the oncoming traffic gets started—all of this is new to me. Overall, New York drivers seem to be cooperative and understand the give-and-take of navigating the narrow, car-lined streets. They are especially helpful when they immediately alert  me at the exact moment a traffic light changes from red to green, in the off chance I might be driving while blind. Fortunately, I can get to a lot of stuff on foot. Just a couple of blocks and I find pert near everything I need plus lots of cool places to explore. 

There were so many times when I had looked forward to retirement and wondered if I’d ever even want to step inside a church again. I. Was. Done. But after taking a couple months off from anything having to do with Church, settling into life in New York, I found myself yearning for the community I have experienced through the Church. The past couple of weeks I’ve preached at a church not far from where I live. Every congregation has its own personality, and I’m getting to know theirs. They are warm and gracious to this foreigner. Occasionally, I have trouble understanding them, as they’re all died-in-the-wool New Yorkers and they speak the part. But they also struggle to decipher my Buckeye accent, and it’s all received in good humor. This week I had the occasion to meet some colleagues at a meeting with the bishop. They were so welcoming and kind that it was easy for me to feel a part of my new synod. I didn’t realize how much I needed that sense of connection to the church. I'm surprised, but it's good to know.

I wake up every morning to the sound of feet running across the floor above me. My son-in-law wonders if they should add some insulation so it’s not so loud for me. Maybe someday, but not yet. It’s still a sound that fills me with gratitude. Along with hearing all about how their day in school was, and watching them play at the park, and those times when they appear in my space just to say “Hi, Nana”, and give me a hug. Often over the past few years, especially during the pandemic, I have longed to be with them so much that I feared it would never really happen. Now I sometimes wonder if I’m just dreaming it. And then I hear the feet running across the floor above me, and I smile.

I think I'm going to survive this move, but I say this with a bit of reservation. Next week I expect to encounter my biggest challenge so far... the DMV. Please pray for me.