Filling Time: TwinLife Empty-Nesting

I spent 13 years of my life driving into New York City. Because I grew up in Central PA, pretty far from any city, the thought that over a decade of my life was intimately connected to NYC, still awes me. Though my husband likes to joke that I’m now a Jersey girl, I’m not. I grew up living next door to Old Order Amish (a community that is not well-represented by the various reality shows that exist about being Amish), celebrating “Doe Day” and “Buck Day” with days off from school, and literally eating the farm animals my friends tended and then butchered for family meals.

Then, after college, I moved to a town featured on the Sopranos. I realized this when I drove home from practice the first summer I coached high school soccer to see my street blocked off because they were filming there. Uncle Junior’s kitchen was my apartment’s kitchen. The funeral home was the one just around the corner. So many scenes in the show were visible on my commute to work. I moved from Amish-world to Mob-land.

But none of that impacted me as much as seeing the Empire State Building every day as I commuted home from my first teaching job. I literally sucked in my breath each time it appeared on the horizon. Perhaps it was because NYC always loomed large in my life. My mom had talked about her trips there as a child; I had travelled there as a child for momentous visits to Annie, Cats, and 42nd Street; and some of my best college relationships (including my future husband) were formed with NYC as a base.

My uncle, who lived in northeast NJ, had taken my family into the city once, where he drove the streets, calling out “my turn” at each light in order to get us to our destination. “My Turn” became family lore, but it also became ingrained in my head; driving in NYC isn’t for the faint of heart. You need to be confident.

When I attended Columbia for grad school, I was nervous to drive so I initially started by commuting by train. I learned a lot about public transit – including that I could get there faster if I just shucked my central PA mindset and adopted my uncle’s “my turn” attitude.

The first time I drove to class was on a Saturday morning. This was a good time for a newbie NYC driver. For anyone thinking I had Google Maps to guide me – nope. I had written directions collated from an early version of Yahoo Maps and a hard copy map. The Saturday morning (lack of) traffic made it seem doable. So I ditched the public transit, took a deep breath, and drove across the bridge. I made it, exhaled, and started driving to class regularly, even on weekdays after I finished my high school teaching commitments and commuted just in time to get to graduate class.

This early experience made it all the more possible for me to drive from west NJ to midtown when I started commuting in earnest to my first tenure-track university job. I learned when to take the train because it gave me alone time yet still put me at home, in bed, not-too-late. I learned when to leave the house so that I didn’t wait in tunnel traffic. I learned shortcuts. I learned to call my mom to check traffic online when I got stuck (because Google Maps still wasn’t a thing in the car and she could look it up on her computer). I learned that being an NYC commuter wasn’t all that scary – if you had gumption and a “my turn” mindset. There are a couple of things I learned from my uncle, but I think this is perhaps the one that influenced me the most.

I became an NYC commuter. At its best, it took me 55 minutes to get the 50 miles from garage to garage. At worst, it took me the better part of 3 hours. I learned to navigate this spread, and it’s why I checked the Google maps time at least four times this past weekend before we left the house to head to the city with my mom and daughter to see a Broadway show.

It’s been nearly a decade since I did the commute, but as I drove, it came back to me. It’s been a while since I’ve been with my mom at the Broadway theater. It’s something she introduced me to – way back with Annie, Cats and 42nd Street – a gift she gave me that I’ve tried to pass on to my children. She and I tried to see the city – and often a show – at least twice per year while I was commuting there. This weekend was the first trip we took together to see a Broadway show in a long time.

So as I drove her – and my daughter – along the highway that had defined my work commute for so many years, I couldn’t help but reflect on that drive. It felt familiar, but different. Something of another life.

Walking around the city felt the same. I took the lead, because I knew the timing – we had places we wanted to go and see, and I knew, instinctively, how much time it would take. I knew the city. It was part of me, even if it wasn’t really me. I am, after all, a PA girl.

As we sat in our seats, waiting for the show to start, I felt at peace, wondering which part of the day was the best part of filling time. Time with my kid? Time with my mom? Time with both of them? Time watching a Broadway show?

Perhaps all of the above. And though I know all of the above is a way I want to spend time, I’m wondering if a Broadway show group is something I want to cultivate locally.

As a side note, after my experience this weekend, given the commute, I prefer matinees, and honestly, I’d probably prefer Saturday to Sunday at this point in my life – because damn, I’m tired after all that driving, and I appreciate a day of somewhat rest after travelling before jumping back into the work zone. So this is my first FillingTime invitation – do you want to form a Broadway group with me? What can we make of it?