Friday, May 11, 2018

And still...

I walked into the bedroom this morning to get the laundry, it was dark, sun not fully risen, but my eyes lit up at the bright yellow cover on the bed. And I smiled. Yellow always makes me smile. I will always paint whatever place I live in yellow; I will always have a yellow cover on my bed.

For years after I left NYC I was homesick to the point that I was, well, sick. Physically, emotionally ill. NYC was who I was. It was my identity. My heart and soul. I lived in Baltimore for about six months back in the late 1980's and a friend said to me "What is a Broadway Matron doing in Ballermore?" (Ballermore is how they pronounce Baltimore in Ballermore.) Now I am homesick for Old Town Alexandria but not how I was homesick for NYC.  I wouldn't even say 'homesick', just "It's better and more convenient there than here".

Would I ever live in NYC again? Not on your life. Would I ever live in Old Town again? No to that as well. But I wouldn't live in either of those places again for different reasons.

Occasionally when I want to have a private giggle I reminisce with myself, mentally telling the stories of my life - my life in NYC. I tell myself only the good, fun stories, stories none of you would understand because you aren't my age and you didn't live in NYC then. I have found, in the past, when I mentioned, offhandedly, that for years my main mode of transportation was a chauffeured limo or Lincoln Town car (back in the day when Lincoln Town cars were rally something) that people seemed impressed by that. It never impressed me, it was just the way my life was back then.

A goodly portion of my life was spent being fearful of change, then life intervened. Constant change was pretty much forced upon me and I find I have come to love change; crave change. Not particularly 'new and shiny' just different; just something else.

But still - I think I shall always love yellow.