The month of May has begun and because of my particular configuration of ethnicity, religious background, family structure and time of life, it is the month that usually brings a deluge of family events. Given the size of my family on any given weekend in May there will be religious ceremonies, birthdays, anniversaries, showers that precede summer weddings, graduations and of course Mother’s Day.

Being the black sheep of the family, literally and figuratively, as you can see in the above photo, I am the only member who migrated (fled) to the city. Everyone else decided to stay put. So yesterday was the first of many trips I will make this month back to the ‘burbs. Not wanting to keep a car in the city, I make good use of the commuter railroad.

The very same commuter railroad took me on many trips away from the ‘burbs when I was a teenager and old enough to travel on my own. I could hang with my friends on Bleeker Street, get drunk at the St. Patrick Day’s parade or go hear the New York Dolls and listen to Patti Smith read poetry. Somehow the city felt like it knew me better than anyone else ever could or did. I finally felt like I had a home. The city then was both dangerous and exhilarating.

Now the train takes me back to the ‘burbs and though I feel incredibly loved by my family and I love them, I no longer feel like I am going home. I am sure they feel the same way when they make a visit to the city. Calvin and I try to take some pictures for the blog in the ‘burbs but somehow I just can’t get inspired. After a few hours the longing returns, my feet feel itchy. I am ready to get going and get back home.

Did you ever find a place that you felt really “knew” you?