I have lived here all my life. Grew up in Maine, moved the Boston for college in 96' and never left. Every year there is at least one day in the middle of the winter when I think "this is my last winter in Boston." I can not imagine spending one more frozen, dirty, angry winter here. But it is home. And so it is with great trepidation, fear, hesitancy and heartbreak that I have decided to leave. Destination TBD, but I know it will be somewhere warm, even though I hate the heat almost as much as I hate the cold.
Since deciding the leave I have found myself enjoying winter more this year. Walking the streets of Beacon Hill and really noticing what a unique and amazing neighborhood it is. How snow clings to the gas lanterns and kids and dogs and college students and adults all seem to come together to tie red bows around trees for the holiday season and go sledding and skating on the Boston Common. Time goes by so fast and now as the winter skies turn to a hopeful spring, the decision to leave has become all the more real. A countdown has been set. It is time to start packing bags, wrapping plates and mugs to protect them during the long journey, and take stock in what I am leaving behind - because as usually it is far more then hard winters.
No comments:
Post a Comment