It actually feels a lot longer than six months- and, well, it is. As of March 19th, we'll have been in Boston seven months. Honestly, if feels more like seven years. Last night I realized that it was only last April that we came to visit- I still can't believe we actually MOVED ACROSS THE COUNTRY.
I did realize something I like about Boston -- and this involves recanting many early posts about the driving here. The fact is, I rarely deal with traffic. It may take me 20 mintues to drive 8 miles, but I'm moving the entire time. In Seattle, my options were I-5 or I-99 where it often take 20 minutes to move 8 feet in rush hour. Because of all the back roads, our location, and my job situation, I don't have to worry about any "tough spots." This, I like. I would much rather be moving for 30 minutes than not moving, regardless of how far I've gone in those 30 minutes.
I still don't like that I can't "see" how all the neighborhoods connect in my head. Someone told me this week that it took 13 years before she could see an entire map of Boston in her head. This I don't like. I like to have an overall picture, larger view- or perspective. I don't have that here. I can only rely on what's right, or relatively right, in front of me. But, and I think I've said this before, the roads are an appropriate faith metaphor. In the least, I am reminded that I can really only deal with what's happening right now. This is probably a good thing considering I don't know where the money is coming from after two or three months and that Jack might get sick at the drop of a hat and I have to constantly re-adjust my work around him.
I still miss 'home' - I may like the fall here, but I'm beginning to dread the humid summer. I miss my family. Jack's favorite PBS show is Calliou (an annoying Canadian kid who is just a little too good and whose parents never yell, "goddammit, that hurt!" - most likely because Calliou never thrases his body and knocks his head on his mom's bottom lip when he doesn't get his way). Anyway... Calliou often spends the day or night at his grandparents, nearby. I wish Jack could hang out with his nanas and pop-pop/papa. I honestly can't wait until we move back to the Northwest (and we are) where Jack can continue to cultivate a close relationship with his grandparents. Us, too.
Me Too! Love Nana and Papa
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