My mom is my best friend in a way that I don't quite know how to describe. She gets me. And I know so many daughters who can't stand their moms, who would rather live states apart, who hide who they really are from them. I'm just feeling lucky. I like that I feel safe to be me with my mom. I like who she is, apart from just my mom. My mom's support and encouragement have brought me here, to this place I am in today. I am thankful.
Now if it were up to me, I would totally live next door to my mom! Sadly, she will be retiring soon enough to the next state over. I don't know what I will do then...
One of my fondest memories with my mom is when she took me on a trip to New York City. Trips to major cities were nothing new for us, as I had been on several business trips with her. But this trip was different. No work. Just us. And at Christmas time, when NYC becomes something greater than itself. We walked everywhere. We stuck out like sore thumbs, two country girls taking on the big city. The women there were so trendy, so hip. I was much more a jeans and t-shirt kinda girl. And even in that beautiful, grand city, it almost felt like it was just my mom and I. For a few days, New York City belonged to us. We played in the make-up in Sephora. We stood in amazement before the store windows. We
fell in love met an Irish boy on a carriage ride through Central Park who made me laugh so much my cheeks hurt. We took our time through the American Girl store and FAO Shwartz and wished that we could bring it all back for Brooklyn and Nicco. We drank hot chocolate on a ferry ride that was almost cold, and plotted to hook the tour guide up with my Grammy. The tree at the plaza wasn't as big as we thought it looked on television. The ice skating rink with its Christmasy skaters was like a dream. Times square was awesome and overwhelming. We saw Phantom of the Opera and it was beautiful. The stores were incredible at Christmas time but we spent hardly any money shopping. We ate great food. We laughed a lot. We stayed up way too late talking. I soaked up as much of my mom as I possibly could. I loved that she was stuck on a plane with me, both on our way and coming home. And when it came time to say goodbye, I cried. I cried and cried. It would be so wonderful to have memories bottled, like on Harry Potter. Just poor them out and relive them again...
My mom and I love New York City, which is kinda funny to me. I mean, what's not to love? But given that we both love trees and grass and country open spaces... I find it funny that when we both fantasize about our next trip we always talk of going back to New York. I'm thinking we will go back- hopefully many times, and with my girls along. New York belongs to my mom and I. It is our city. In New York, we are two in millions. We are swimming in a sea of people with nothing to do except take it all in. I will be forever grateful to New York City.
I am hoping we might get to go this fall. We have been in winter and spring. Oh, can you imagine Central park in fall? We both have some flight credit to use up... And I will have a little bit of money. I would love to treat her to a trip!
(Now this is top secret- but I have been taking notes from blog friends of all the best places to go in NYC from food to shopping to flea markets...)
I am very very lucky indeed. Maybe blessed is more like it.