Monday, May 31, 2010

Boston Bound


Tomorrow we'll make our final trip to Boston. Four suitcases, two computer bags, two kids, a stroller, the dog, and a couple of carry-on bags stuffed with snacks, videos, and a tissue or two.





When we moved to Phoenix almost exactly two years ago, it felt like we had landed on the moon. I knew it was the desert, but I couldn't quite take it in - the rock filled yards, the scrubby landscape, and the iconic cactus stiffly standing guard over the whole strange scene. There were palm trees everywhere, but not a drop of water in sight. I would soon learn that the water could be found filling the pools behind the tall backyard fences, and the palm trees were not native, but from somewhere else, just like us.

I arrived here completely sleep deprived, stuck in an over year long jag of insomnia. But in Phoenix, it seemed to make sense to go to bed late and wake early, since the sun came up so blazingly bright and I had to get moving to beat the heat of the day anyway. It's strange, but you can see the moon in Phoenix from very early in the evening until long into the morning. In the middle of the night it hangs gloriously close in a dark cloudless sky. By the fall of that year, I started sleeping a little more, and then in the winter the insomnia started to go away entirely. Had the desert healed me somehow? Had the moon hung around just a little longer to supervise?

We'll miss so many things, like our favorite eats at Barrio Cafe, and Lola, drinks at Camelback Inn and the Rokerij, and shopping in Scottsdale. The way Phoenix is big and small at the same time. The kids will no doubt miss the zoo and the fantastic parks. Hubs will miss running the mountain trails and biking along the canal. We'll all long for the famous Phoenix winters, and the days when we didn't have to remember raincoats or struggle with snowboots. It goes without saying that we'll miss our dear friends, both old and new. And I will miss my writing community.

Little Guy only understands our move to Boston as a vague concept, but Girlie has been struggling with the idea, alternating between excitement and despair. I remind her how it felt to move here, how she didn't even know how to swim when we arrived. I tell her she'll make new friends. I tell myself I'll find new restaurants and shops. And friends.

And it's true. We'll all be just fine in Boston. And I know that the moon that rises over Boston is the same one that hangs over Phoenix.

But still, it will be missing a little of that desert magic. And so will I.


1 comment:

Linda Pressman said...

Thanks for this lovely post and for reminding me of how magical Phoenix can look through new eyes. I love it as well but I'm sure Boston will be a good move for you. Good luck to you, Cheri.