DEAR BOSTON
Dear Boston,
I thought I'd write my heart to you today. I know these words are more for me than you. But if you'll bear with me, well, my thoughts they've turned towards you in the strangest and saddest of ways as of late. And, well, I guess I just thought you should know...
You are that place in old photo albums where two little girls sit propped on little brick walls with little hand sewn dresses falling off their narrow shoulders, new little legs, hardly begun on the marathon of this living here, dangling against the stolid old stone there. You are the summer of my earliest memory.
And it seemed to matter not to you that we spoke little, if any English, foreign and different in our smallness. It was enough that we were there, weaving our living into the grit of your worn cobblestone streets. And time became our common language then. Each turn of a city block a reflection of age giving way to age. You are my fall.
I can find you there, in memories tucked away. I've taught my mind to turn towards you when the blustery storms of this living here seem so mean and cruel. I see the ice skaters on the Commons carving beautiful afternoons into the unforgiving cold. And the joy of mother's tromping hand in hand with their whole little worlds, bundled in scarves and mittens and such, across the freshly fallen snow there. You are the wonder of my winter.
And when that weather changes, in time, and forgiveness comes, and winter gives way to kinder gentler things, I see you there especially. And still, you are my spring.
Be well. Live Sweet, n
For those who have asked, our Boston family members are all safe and sound. Thank you, always, for all your aloha.
We're headed to O'ahu this weekend to spend some time with family and friends there. It just seems the thing to do, you know?
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A few links to keep you.
A song,
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