The Earth is tilted to the plane of its orbit and we no longer directly face the sun. At this time of the year I wish I could freeze moments in time. It would be hard for me to adequately describe what winter means to me. Nothing, not even the most beautiful moments during that time of the year reveal what it takes, every year, for me to simply get through it.
Thankfully Winter also meant to be reunited with my son and to be welcomed in Laura’s family for a week. It had been over six months since I last saw Idan. Never before had I been away from him–or New York City–for so long.
Stepping out of Grand Central Station and hearing people talk in different languages was the most powerful reminder of what had changed for me over the past six months. I did return to Forest Hills to meet friends but never summoned the courage to go back to Burns Street and look at what used to be my home for so long. Home, what does it really mean? My mom always said that home is where the heart is. While I understand what she meant, it is not always as simple as that. My heart first and foremost is where my son is–in Los Angeles. My heart is where my brothers and their families are–in Belgium. My heart is with the family in Israel. All these places are familiar, yet none is really home for me, and neither is New York anymore.
Gary Zukav said it best: “We cannot stop the winter or the summer from coming. We cannot stop the spring or the fall or make them other than they are. They are gifts from the universe that we cannot refuse. But we can choose what we will contribute to life when each arrives.”