Category Archives: Massachusetts
The first time I took communion with wine, I was at a church in Boston and wearing hiking boots. And Yo-Yo Ma was there.
Perhaps my first mistake was expecting that I would ever entirely grow out of it.
“I’m actually on a connecting flight, traveling to a corn hole tournament. It’s a pretty big deal,” the man in the seat behind me announced.
I was suddenly aware of everything: the squelch of the slider door’s rubber seal releasing as my brother came in from the yard. The creak and crash of the screen door to the garage behind my dad.
Could my parents have admitted they were too busy or uncomfortable to teach me? Yes.
Am I mad, bro? No.
I grew up knowing that I would not date a woman unless we were going to get married. No pressure, you’ll know when you know, but figure it out and don’t mess it up or your entire life will be ruined.
When you start to recognize people and places, and you start to be recognized, you start to feel home. Re-cognize—from the Latin cognoscere, “to know.” To re-know, or to know again.
Stories of travel compel us, she says, because “more reliably than anything else on earth, the road will force you to live in the present.”
When is the last time
You knew what you wanted?