Yesterday I spotted some street art (one of my very favorite parts of city living) that reminded me that I am “close to home,” next to a painting of Boston and the Post Office. The art was at the Fields Corner red line stop in Dorchester, somewhere I had never been before. This happy accident was a result of helping a friend, who is new to the area, find her way from our neighborhood bus to the train.
The art reminded me of being guided by my grandparents… a few months after my Grandma Arlene passed away, I packed up and moved to New York. Sometimes I feel like I royally messed up many of my opportunities there and that I let her down. However, after leaving NYC last year I feel I was guided to Boston. From meeting a mailman to Red Sox baseball, I continually noticed a reoccurring Boston theme in my life. I had considered moving here back in 2015, but the chaos in my life seemed to keep my feet planted in New York. I suppose I wasn’t quite finished with the lessons of my unmanageable life.
There were so many signs and symbols that continually showed me the way to New England. Now, I feel that I am redeeming myself, facing life head-on and making them proud- I hope.
No matter where you are, remember that you are home.