Essay: In the Midwest, feeling nostalgic about New York

One afternoon at my senior living community in Michigan, someone asked me, “What do you miss about New York?”

Without hesitation, I replied, “Everything.”

The quick response surprised me more than the questioner.

I hadn’t realized that I missed the noise, the traffic, the rapid pace, the crowds, the all-consuming activity.

I knew I missed my friends, the weather, the restaurants and the churches. But I hadn’t allowed myself to dwell on the entirety of what I relinquished when I moved from Long Island two years ago after more than 50 years.

There isn’t a day when I don’t count my many blessings, and I do give thanks for the joy of being close to family in the Midwest, the luxury of my new apartment and the serene reassurance of no longer living alone. And yet, I wondered, how could I miss “everything”?

Still, to my own surprise, that is true. Familiarity equals comfort, and expectation allows a degree of ease. I remember when I found the sounds of traffic outside my small home in South Farmingdale not disturbing, but rather soothing.

I enjoyed hearing car doors close when the sun came up as joggers arrived to run along a Bethpage park across the street from my bedroom.

I savored the anticipation of waiting for the first act in a crowded Broadway theater.

I found crowds reassuring when I shopped. I never felt alone as I window-shopped the length of the Walt Whitman mall or marveled at the selections at the Tanger Outlets in Riverhead and Deer Park.

I cherished the pleasure of seeing the skyline of my beloved city when the Hampton Jitney approached Manhattan.

I recalled how my friend Alice and I enjoyed quiet conversations while waiting for a table at the Massapequa Diner on Saturday evenings. We chatted on the porch while watching the Long Island Rail Road trains come and go.

I loved the Village of Farmingdale, which I think of as hometown USA. Main Street provided not only the choice of shopping for a gourmet dinner entree at the meat market, but also the pleasure of unexpectedly meeting friends and neighbors at restaurants.

While other areas of our country have their own unique beauty, the beaches on Long Island cannot be duplicated. The roar of the ocean and the smell of the saltwater never ceased to provide comfort.

I remembered how the frenzied activity that consumed my Long Island life always prodded me not to slow down, but to keep pace. All of the words, both negative and positive, that describe New York remain quietly tucked into my heart.

Anne Donlon Achenbach lives in Traverse City, Michigan.