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New York, New York
My grandparents grew up here. In the city I was often ashamed to call my own. New York, New York. The famed city that was once a melting pot of all cultures and different backgrounds, the city that continues to be filled with busy streets of beautiful people. Yet, when I see Manhattan, I see the poverty, the struggle, the weakness of so many. Underneath the dirty facades of buildings that have not been renovated in decades are the people who work the hardest and in return, receive the least. You were one of those people. You woke up every morning as light broke through the sky and went out into the city, working nonstop until the city that never sleeps finally went to bed. I always admired your determination to change your own life.
You used to tell me that the only person who could change my own life was myself. If I wasn’t happy, I was the only person capable of changing my outlook on my life. That message has stuck with me since the day I met you. The dark city I was raised in became a little brighter with you by my side. I truly believe you showed me the good in the world. And I don’t know how I got lucky enough to have someone like you.
My grandparents got lucky too. They came from Europe for the hope at a better future, but you are bringing yourself closer to success every day. My mother’s family arrived here on an overcrowded ship a few years after 1900. They escaped the future of war and rapidly growing anti-semitism in Europe. My grandpa opened a pharmacy on the corner of his block. He met my grandma and proposed soon after. The two of them became wealthy and successful, yet my mother did not inherit much following their passings.
Incredible people have made it in New York. They say if you can make it in New York you can make it anywhere. I like to think that you made it. You performed at pretty much every venue within the five boroughs. I would do anything to hear you sing and play one more time. Your talent was unreal, yet my parents never liked you. They insisted on me marrying a nice Jewish boy, maybe a lawyer. Instead I married you, and you most definitely fit neither requirement.
A lot has changed since you left New York. The bright lights died out and the hidden wonders turned out to simply be wondrous hidden moments with you. I noticed that I strictly see the beauty of New York City when I leave it. The view of the skyline from outside of the city is incredible. They buried you in the mountains on the opposite side of the Hudson. I only recognize New York as beautiful when I return to you again. I never understood why you wished to be buried so far from the city you loved so much. I think I understand it now though. Sometimes you need to see things from a different point of view to appreciate it. It is hard to see the beauty from within, but now that I know that it is there, everything is beautiful again.
I moved out of Manhattan today. I’ve grown towards acceptance that all things that once made me happy may not always make me happy, like Manhattan. I can rest assured that my memories of you in the city will remain in a positive light no matter the case. I will never forget my city, as it is still a part of who I am and has shaped me in unexplainable ways, but I don’t need it to continue to play a role in my future. I am a product of New York, New York but I am also so much more. I define New York, but New York doesn’t define me.
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