City Loving

I remember my grandma telling me that when I was barely 5, I told her that someday I was going to live in Pittsburgh. She had grown up on Polish Hill, and my grandfather was from Verona. They lived on a farm outside of Butler and never felt the pull of the city, but I did. We were always back and forth visiting family, and even as a child the city spoke to me.

I loved the city neighborhoods with tall, thin houses stacked one upon the other, the small specialty shops for any item you wanted, and traffic jams made for great people watching. The city has an energy, and I was mesmerized. I was going to live here.

I moved “down here” and dove right into learning my way around, navigating the random one way streets, sometimes in the wrong direction. Never panicking if I got lost, but looking for a sign for 279N so I could reorient myself.

Now I can get people from one neighborhood to another, and to points downtown. From my living room I can hear the fireworks when the Pirates score a home run. It’s become ordinary, typical, another day in the life of.

Sitting here in Seth’s room on the 8th floor, 7 minutes from my driveway, and looking out across toward Oakland and “Eas Sliberty,” I’ve been city watching all day long. I remembered that this was once a goal. To be here, to know this city, to call it home.

This view, the row houses with the specialty shop next door, the front stoop practically on the street, and the constant stream of traffic with the occasional horn or siren sounding, I love it all. In the daily grind of the last 20 years I’ve forgotten to appreciate it, and to truly appreciate what it took to make a little girl’s big dream came true.

Now, if only we could do something about the crappy winter weather.