When I suggested to visit my brother and his family in New Hampshire, it really was about them.
Yeah, I wanted to be able to say I’ve been there because I mean, how many people can say that? What do you even do in New Hampshire?
Seriously.
I got the same question when I lived in Reading, Pennsylvania and Delaware. Because of it, not many people came to visit.
So, I know how hard it is being away from family. Trying to create a new life for yourself while battling emotions about your identity. Your purpose. All the while trying to attentively watch for a sign from God about your next step and it’s hard.
So. Very. Hard.
I wanted to show them that I was there for them. That everything would be okay. Despite what they think, somebody actually does know what they’re going through.
But as the date approached, the more it became about me.
Not to oversell it, but it was no longer a want. I desperately needed to get away. To see new sights. To get a new perspective. To clear my head.
More than anything, to not wait on anybody who refuses to pronounce my name correctly or treat me like a human being that matters. Just to give me a measly tip.
Woosah.
Turns out, there’s not much to do in New Hampshire. At least, they haven’t figured it out yet, so we spent the day in Boston at Faneuil Hall. To us, it was like an outside version of Reading Terminal in Philly.
We also walked to the harbor. The water calmed me and helped cleared my head giving me the break I needed to write.
Though it was a cloudy day, it was really beautiful being there. It was just nice to break bread, laugh and make jokes like old times when we had our monthly dinners. Hearing the way my niece and nephew interact was absolutely hilarious.
I’m already planning my next trip to visit. Hopefully, I’ll get to see the parks for which New Hampshire is known. Or maybe even get to see how real maple syrup is made. I am so excited!
