In 2007 E made a decision to practice law for a career and took the LSAT. Law school acceptances started rolling in, the first being Harvard. Then, one night, after work hanging out at his apartment in Raleigh, he asked me a question that would change my life: Will you go with me to Boston? We weren’t married or even engaged, but I knew I’d be spending the rest of my life with E so I said, without missing a beat, yes.
While he entertained a few other law schools that had accepted him, there was little doubt E was going to say no to Harvard (as one just doesn’t do). So a few months later we visited Boston (a first for me) and he pulled out all the stops to get me hooked on the city and Cambridge. Boston showed off a bit too that weekend in March, melting the last piles of snow before we landed, and treating us to a great weekend of food and drinks before capping it off with an authentic St. Patrick’s Day celebration before we boarded our plane back. It was clear where we were going for the next three years.
We rolled out of NC before the sun rose on August 5th 2008 and for the next 12+ hours up the east coast, tears streamed down my face as we left family, friends and the only home I’d known.
Almost 10 years to the day, we are set to leave Boston, making our way back down the east coast to NC where we’ll start anew again. And I imagine, as I board the plane with our two kids and watch Boston vanish from my window, I won’t have a dry eye for many hours.
It was a hard decision to make. This blog catalogues years of our flirtation with the idea to return to NC. But we never quite could make it happen. Until… all the things really. A kid here, another there, throw in a demanding job, a lack of family time, a couple of health problems and the need for help, and you got yourself a really hard argument for a complete lifestyle change.
Leaving MA feels so different than leaving NC. There’s so much more at stake. We have more friends, we have two kids, we each have a career. Typing it now, it sounds crazy that we’re even considering a drastic 180 move this time in life. But our list of hopes and goals are two-fold: more space, more quality time with each other and our kids, less time commuting and at a desk, more time with family, more hands for help. But in many ways, I feel I’m leaving my home. And I am.
When I moved up here in 2008, although my heart ached for The South and a handful of people in it, I immediately fell in love with New England. I loved the bustle, the weather (yes, even the winter), I loved Cambridge and Boston. I loved the people. This was all so different than anything I’d ever experienced and I embraced it – even when alone.
As those three years of E’s law school passed, it was clear that we weren’t done with life here. So, we made the decision to stay. The following years brought talks about The Return by way of: As soon as I’m pregnant; as soon as we have a kid; before Sam is kindergarten age; as soon as I’m pregnant with the next kid; and so on. It was something we kept pushing off because, we weren’t unhappy. So that made it hard. But, our happiness had morphed a bit. As in – what contributed to it, how long it lasted, who it involved. And so is life, I know.
I’ve found, in these last 10 years (so many things) but mostly, that I’m not sure of what “home” is. Is it where I’m from? Is it where I first lived with E? Is it where I brought my babies home? Is it where we’ve rented for five years? Is it where I long to be when I’m somewhere else? Is it where those I love the most are living? I think it’s all these things. Which make it complicated for me and makes me say my home has shifted. My home used to be one place then it became another. And now it will be different again. But I will feel it is somewhere else for sometime. I’ve been thinking, for a few years now, of this. It feels right to me to say that I have two homes. They hold very different roles. I was raised in one – NC, but grew up in another – MA.
In the last few weeks especially, I’ve fallen in love with this area all over again. Summer really showed up. And it seems the days have freakin FLOWN by, not considering my desire to make them linger, at all. Somehow, when discussing our move, I went from hearing “oh you have some time” to “ohmygod that’s so soon!”
There are these t-shirts/sweatshirts/etc. that have BOSTON printed on the front, nice and big. They are sold in bulk to tourists by vendors in Faneuil Hall, etc. and the visitors proudly wear them as they parade throughout our city. I’ve found myself longing for one. I want to wear it proudly. After all, I didn’t just come here for 48 hours. I came, I saw, I stayed. I began my family here. I made a life here. I am not a visitor; I am a Bay Stater. A New Englander.
The long goodbye has been hard. But it’s been beautiful. I’ve been able to tell Boston and Cambridge and Somerville all the things I’ve been thinking. I’ve been able to cry and laugh behind my sunglasses and earbuds as I walked through old haunts, and current hoods. I’ve been able to visit old favorites and check off bucket list items. And I’ve of course been able to say most everything I need to the people that changed my life. People that took me in, watched me struggle, watched me succeed and contributed to my happiness, health and general wellness for these past 10 years. People who are so good, so kind and so genuine, that I feel I will have a nearly impossible time finding others similar. People who I had and raised my babies with, shared my most intimate secrets with and are my forever friends.
We moved up here knowing not a soul. I was prepared to be lonely – I even welcomed the feeling a bit. Although it can be frightening, there was something fresh about it as well. In fact, amidst the loneliness, I found the comforting company of many. I’d walk, eat, ride the T and have a glass of wine, alone. And I was rarely the only one doing that. I relished in this feeling. It’s how, I realized, I preferred to be at times. But alone I did not stay for long. An amazing group of people entered my life almost immediately, thanks to one very very special woman. E and I fell instep almost seamlessly with this group who had been friends since college and there we stayed. For 10 years. Then, through work, even more fantastic individuals rolled into my life and set up shop in my heart. And because of that, I’ve forgotten how it feels. Being alone. Will it hurt? Will I be OK? Most importantly, will it go away?
What I’m feeling gearing up for this last week is so heavy. Knowing our decision to return is right, I still am experiencing great sadness. My friends, I will keep. This city, will forever be here. But this time, this time is ending. And like many changes and transitions, it warrants a level of grieving. I feel/fear a little bit, that a part of myself, of who I am, will remain here like a soul floating around, looking for my body. It will ask things like: “Where did she go?” “Will she come back?” “Why did she leave?” And I’m sure that I, in turn, when finally settled in down south, will ask the same.
It is at once the end and a beginning. And I'm here to say that not only has this southerner’s perspective changed, but so has my life. Completely. It will never be the same. And I will be forever grateful to this place and all the people that contributed to my transformation.
Boston, I love you.
Then
Now
