I am anxious. I am torn. And I am excited. We are moving this weekend.
The good news is that we’re leaving our one bedroom apartment in our Brooklyn neighborhood for a three bedroom apartment down the block. We’re leaving behind floor to ceiling windows with partial Manhattan views for a quiet street view in a one floor walk-up that costs less than a two bedroom where we live now. We’re moving up (no pun intended), but why then am I so sad?
Brooklyn sky
One of my favorite things about our Brooklyn neighborhood is the strong sense of community it invokes. The community which I feel so connected to is even more present in the building I have lived in for the last seven years. With 320 apartments, we don’t just have a lot of friends here, but our dog Ella does, too. Of the few hundred apartments at The Courthouse at least half have dogs. We have forged close relationships with neighbors over the years and with the staff, too. Two doormen in particular. We have seen new life enter the building, our own son Mylo included. We’ve also seen old life – like the producer with Lou Gehrig’s disease – leave the building. And tragically, not so old life, like the mom on the eighth floor who recently left behind two young children. And of course Kitty died here, too.
It would have been nice to stay on in our building. Two years ago we left our cozy studio in the south tower for our big one bedroom in the north tower. Having a baby in a one bedroom apartment was doable until Mylo was five months old and no longer co-sleeping peacefully. It became even more difficult though at about eight months when he wasn’t even sleeping in his crib peacefully.
So the kid got the room and mom and dad moved out into the living room. That’s right. We’ve been sleeping on the floor college-style since April. It’s been fun, and cozy, and I’ve grown accustomed to watching my Tivo’d shows in bed, but let’s face it, it ain’t practical. So moving to a three-bedroom is a big huge step up. I should be happy, right? I am.
But I am also sad. There are lots and lots of memories here that don’t quite feel transportable — I can’t pack them in a box with all our belongings and take them with us.
But I will try.