starting out in the big apple

At 7:13 am my phone rings.  “Hi.  We’re leaving now.  You don’t have to get up.  I’ll call you later.”  It’s Sunday morning.  I was up talking to Alexander until almost 2 last night.  Of course I’m not up.

The call is from M, one of my closest friends.  She lives in the Boston area and her son Sam, who just graduated college, is moving to New York for a job in finance.  I am thrilled because a) this is great for Sam, and b) now I will definitely see more of M.

An hour later the phone rings again.  “Hi.  Are you up?”  Well, I wasn’t, but am now.  M, her husband, Sam and his friend, are on their way, towing one of those U-Haul trailers.  By 1:00 pm, they have arrived.

Alexander and I go to help with the move-in.  Along the way, we pass a series of fruit and vegetable stands, which is typical for New York.  Everything looks like it just walked off the farm.  We buy some vine tomatoes, corn, a box each of peaches, baby nectarines, and small black plums, and a tub of fresh farm-churned butter.

Sam’s new two-bedroom apartment (he’ll be sharing it with a friend) is in a nice part of town. It looks like a studio apartment that's been converted into a two-bedroom.   It’s a three-story walk-up, no doorman, and a kitchen that is smaller than my very small bathroom.  There are no counters and three tiny closets (one in each bedroom and one in the living room).  A girl could never live here.  But it's perfect for two boys.  And, it only costs $3200/month.

Here is everyone in Sam’s new “kitchen,” following an arduous three-story climb with a mattress on an 85-degree day.

And here are M and I:

It’s hard leaving your son after he graduates college.  Before then, you know he'll be back for summers and vacations.  But once he has his own place, his departure feels more final.

We say good-bye, shed some tears, and get back in the car to leave. The battery is dead. It’s another 45 minutes before help arrives, but it’s also another 45 minutes to spend with a close friend.