Thursday, June 11, 2015


We live in Harlem, but our son goes to school in Bayside.  The reasons he attends a school in the farthest corner of Queens are complicated and unchanging, so we must endure a long commute.  In an ideal world the trip shouldn't take much more than an hour, but this is NYC and nothing is ever ideal.  We leave the house at 6:10am, walk 8 minutes to the subway, ride the 3 train to Penn Station, take the LIRR 7:01am train to Great Neck, get off at Bayside station, walk the final 12 minutes to his school.  Door to door, the trip takes over 1 hour and 30 minutes.  The afternoon is the same route just a different direction.  If the stars align and we catch an early train back to the city, we can make the trip as fast as 1 hour 10 minutes.

 Two weeks ago we had some family stay with us and instead of using public transit we borrowed their car.  This was a faster trip.  There was some light traffic and we made the commute in under 20 minutes.

I thought that having a car would make our commute a breeze, but I realized that even with a direct route and more speed, I enjoy riding the train with our son.

There are mornings when we sit in a darkened tunnel waiting for the tracks to clear only to miss our connecting train.  There are snowstorms that freeze our noses.  There are rainstorms that we cannot outrun.  There are crowded platforms, annoying teenagers, and sleepy eyes.

But the last year of travels has been good to us.  The boy and I commuted together.  We laughed together.  We cried together.  While the storms continue to rage around our family, we are still together.