A Room With A View

Had an amazing flight to New York tonight, by way of Manchester, NH. Of course I was immediately disheartened to board a tiny prop plane, but the ride was smooth and we ended up flying clear across Manhattan (thanks, LGA, for the perpetual traffic). We soared directly above Central Park, where I recognized the Met, and Columbus Circle! And then I was all giddy, because did I ever mention I love New York?

I walked out into the terminal at LaGuardia, actually humming "Memories." I was struck that I had not frequented the airport since the end of 2006, but everything felt so familiar. In the ladies' room, I marveled that there may someday be another airport I call home. That the transit hubs I am intimately familiar with now (Manchester, Providence, Columbus, Pittsburgh, Syracuse) will someday become foreign. Change is inevitable, I suppose.

I arrive at my downtown hotel and begin the check-in process.

"Oh! I forgot to give you my rewards card." I pull it from my wallet and hand it to the desk attendant.

"That makes a huge difference," he smiles. "Let's see if I can't get you a better room."

"On the concierge lounge?" I ask. (I am a spoiled bleeding-heart liberal.)

"I can't get you on that floor, but I've got you just one floor below."

"Perfect."

And up and up to the 37th floor. As I enter the perfectly neat space, I beam as I glimpse the Empire State Building uptown.

Then, I look down.

Still, a gaping hole in the Earth, over eight years later.

Still, it gets me.

And so I shut the blinds, in an attempt to pretend. And now Ninja and I sit, sipping herbal tea and eating chocolate chip cookies from the concierge lounge.

And I remember.