I’m finally huddled up in my Brooklyn apartment, keeping warm and staying away from the blanket of snow that now covers the city of New York. I’ve been back in the Big Apple for about five days now but today’s the first day I have energy to breathe and reflect on my trip home to Seattle and what it feels like to be back in New York.
I love the Pacific Northwest. Often, I yearn for the slow pace of life, fresh air, nature, the occasional smiles of fellow public transportation passengers on the bus, the random coffee shop stranger conversations, coffee, 12th man pride on game day, the general environmentally conscious attitude, and the ability to slow down and chill.
I was the most excited I’ve ever been to go home this trip. I knew I needed a break from my never-ending fast paced struggle of a New York life to take a moment to breathe and take stock of what I’ve been doing. It was the first time I’ve been back since I unexpectedly started my new job in October so I was excited to catch up with friends, with family and with myself.
Time with family has become precious. My parents, aunties and uncles are getting older so I’ve been working on taking in as much history and wisdom as I can muster. I tried my best to speak only Tagalog to my parents. I took notes on the history of my family tree on both sides. I asked my parents to share more stories from his youth to hopefully share with future generations. The more that I am away, the more I realize that I am the legacy of my parents, who have sacrificed so much for me to be here in the United States. Their stories shape mine and I need to pay my respect to that.
I also reached a point when I realized I don’t want to return home yet. Continue reading