Ten years ago we moved back to NYC from the suburbs. While there, I had promised myself that when we returned, I would run in Central Park every day. On our first day back I stepped into the park at West 79th street. That’s when I saw her.
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My first salary negotiation was a total success. It was also a a total fluke. When I was seventeen, my parents had offered me the option of staying home alone for the summer rather than schlep out to the country house, so long as I could find a full-time job to keep me occupied.
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Bittersweet too small a word for when fierce pride and immeasurable joy crash into inconsolable sadness. But it’s all I’ve got for now. Congratulations, Graduates.