It is the first day of the last month of a very long year. I am already ready for 2014 to end. Can I sleep through this month? Ahead, there be a pool to swim, a New Year’s Eve project to build, a computer class to finish, and Morocco to trek.
My father drives me to the subway station that takes me into Boston. I sadly say goodbye to my parents with no firm intention of returning. I’m quite proud of my parents and appreciate their benevolent kindness. Yet they profoundly depress me. I want so much from them – a connection and friendship – that I see instead anxiety, empty communication, and sheltered worlds. I fear for their deaths but don’t know how to enrich their lives.
Once in the Boston evening, I wheel my luggage around the Common to find the new statue of Edgar Allen Poe. Brother John modeled last year as Poe for the New York-based sculptor. I clasp the bronze hand that is my brother’s hand.
I meet Sage at her warm apartment in South Boston. We have not caught up for years so we both have much to say about life. I take her out to dinner and we drink some happy cider. She is such a dear to house me for my trip’s last night.
As I have lived so long in San Francisco, Boston feels safer, calmer, and enough. Perhaps I need to exhaust myself in the center of everything before contentedly setting down in the periphery. I am ready to move to a Portland or an Austin.