On the Long Island Railroad, my daughter asked to borrow the newspaper from a random business man, so she could read up on the World Cup.
We visited my former college campus of Barnard-Columbia and had a picnic on the Great Lawn. "Your Gan is beautiful! " marveled Raphaela.
We must have walked over four miles yesterday afternoon, and not once did Raphaela complain about her legs hurting or about the humidity.
I must have taken at least 100 photographs yesterday, our first day in the City, more than the last five years of my living in Israel.
Raphaela's spoken English has improved by leaps and bounds in the last four days that we have been in the United States.
In Manhattan I am inspired creatively, I reconnect to memories from my childhood that I thought had been lost forever. Sharing these feelings, this place, with my daughter has only reignited my passion to move forward, and compete, and lose the often restrictive routine I have in Israel. This morning I woke up early ( jet lag) and watched the Upper West Side wake up, entranced.
I met my brother for dinner last night, some private time before he gets married this weekend, and he observed, " I haven't seen you this happy and alive in a long time. I never understood why you left New York."
"We must explore this new world." Said Raphaela, looking at the height of the buildings and the activity of the streets.
Meanwhile in Israel, too close to Jerusalem and even in my neighborhood, my friends prepare for war. I would be lying if I denied entertaining thoughts of keeping me and my child safe and happy, here in America.
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