Last week, I spent approximately 30 minutes taking a parking sticker off my car and then putting the new parking sticker on my car. This was not your typical cling on sticker that peels off the car with ease. This son of a bitch sticker was basically cemented onto my windshield after almost a year of baking in the sun. I attacked it with a razor blade and WD-40. Tiny crumbles of sticker now dot my dashboard, along with a greasy gloss from the WD-40. As I was attacking my parking sticker, I thought to myself: things that could be simple are just harder in Boston. There could be cling on stickers, but there are not. The Department of Motor Vehicles is not the “DMV,” it is the “RMV” aka Registry of Motor Vehicles. When I changed my last name on my passport and license, I was left with a temporary paper ID issued by the RMV. Bars and restaurants literally refused to let me in with my temporary paper ID because they thought it was a fake that I made (nevermind the fact that I was hanging out with other almost 30 year-olds). Driving is an extreme challenge. Not only are the roads very confusing, but many roads do not have lines painted onto them (my theory being that the snow plows scrape off the paint). All roads have giant potholes. Most drivers are aggressive (I am now one of them). Roundabouts are called rotaries and they are everywhere. And some of them even have traffic lights in the middle of them. None of my teaching license credentials transferred to MA, causing me to have to take MA teaching tests. Moving into apartments is hard. Couches and boxsprings don’t always fit up stairwells. And it snows and your car doesn’t shovel itself out….nor do the stairs….or the sidewalks (and we have gotten a teeny tiny amount of snow compared to average winters). And don’t even get me started on how hard it was to be a Falcons fan here this year.
I say all of this, because as I was attacking my parking sticker, I remembered something that I’ve thought about before. My grandma lived in Boston. My mom lived in Boston. My Aunt Jenny lives in Boston. My Aunt Emmy lived in Boston. Boom. The badass, strong, and amazing women that I have looked up to, and continue to look up to, lived (or lives) in Boston at some point in their lives. I thought to myself, maybe a small slice of why these women are so strong is because they tackled living in a city that often isn’t always easy to live in. And maybe a small slice of how I’ve gotten through some tough situations this past year is because I come from a line of strong, independent women, and I’d like to think they’ve rubbed off on me. And who knows, maybe living in Boston has given me some extra strength. In the picture below, my aunts and grandma were strong enough to tackle getting me through the airport as a toddler. Although it looks like it may have been a bit of a struggle....
This year was full of highs and lows and had me feeling especially grateful for the line of strong women who came before me. The biggest and most obvious high being that Nick and I got married! I could go on for hours about how it was the best day ever, but there’s really not more to say aside from the fact that in our eyes, it was the best day ever. And that we’ve never had so much fun. The only reason this day happened was because of the people Nick and I refer to as our “village.” On top of all the strong ladies I previously mentioned, there’s my dad, my sister (also a part of the badass lineage), Nick’s amazing parents, and very close family friends who may as well be called Aunts. Planning a wedding out of state literally would have been the most stressful experience without this village to help us.
My mom’s sisters, Aunt Jenny and Aunt Emmy, rallied around helping us plan the wedding. One thing I knew from the beginning of the planning was that I wanted to wear my mom’s wedding dress, which was also my grandma’s wedding dress. But I also knew that I wanted to update it. This is where Aunt Jenny comes in. She helped me find a wonderful seamstress who was willing to tackle the project of carefully redesigning this gorgeous gown from the 1950’s. Aunt Jenny, my cousin Audrey and I spent many, many Saturdays driving an hour outside of Boston to go to the redesign appointments. I am so grateful that I lived near them and had their company during the entire dress process. You can see more pictures of the amazing wedding dress redesign here.
While Aunt Jenny took care of the dress side of things, Aunt Emmy took on all things related to Pittsburgh. She helped us find a photographer, she went to the florist with me, she did a walkthrough of the venue with us, she did an enormous amount of work helping us find and set-up a venue for the rehearsal dinner, and she let us take over her house the weekend of the wedding. In the picture below, I am making children's gift bags at Aunt Emmy's house next to my enemy, Rex (my Grandpa's toy dog that continues to terrify me as an adult). My Aunt's placed him next to me to "help" with the gift bags.
One of our biggest laughs came on the Wednesday before the wedding when I dragged the two of them to a grocery store produce seller to buy 200 peaches for the wedding. Looking back on this, it sounds so stupid that I put so much energy into finding peaches. In Pittsburgh. In May. I was doubted by many a peach sellers, but nevertheless, I persisted. :) I wanted a piece of Georgia at the wedding and peaches as nametag holders was the solution. Let’s just say the very nice man at the massive produce building gave us a full tour of their facility and taught us ALL about the many different varieties of peaches. For an hour.
Needless to say, going through planning a wedding with these two ladies, my grandma, and my sister, eased the pain of not being able to plan a wedding with my mom. They all have the same wacky sense of humor as my mom, they creepily all look and sound alike, and they are just as badass and organized as my mom was. We had more laughs than tears, and I know that’s what my mom would have wanted.
Since the wedding, saying that life has felt like a whirlwind is an extreme understatement. Nick moved to Seattle for 6 months a week after the wedding for an internship. I was lucky enough to live there with him for the summer. We had a blast exploring the Pacific Northwest and I especially enjoyed a relaxing summer. Fall arrived with a crazy move to a new apartment in Boston where we gained two fabulous roommates (named Jen and Emily- notice the connection with my Aunt’s names? So weird!), who I now realize I never would have survived the Fall without.
The arrival of Fall also brought the arrival of my dad’s cancer diagnosis. I’m not going to go into detail here, because I feel like unfortunately the social media world already knows all too much about this due to our battles with the insurance company. As you can imagine, this was a hard one to swallow. I had my fair share of “No way. Not us. Not again. Not fair. Nope.” moments. But there comes a point where you make a choice. You can sit around feeling sorry for yourself or you can pick yourself up and make a plan to tackle it. My dad, my sister, myself, and our entire family chose the latter. My sister’s badass strength has been out full force helping with my dad. She has spent hours upon hours upon hours driving back and forth from Atlanta to Charleston to help with my dad. And she has been phenomenal! She makes sure he is doing his exercises- and gained the title of his Physical Therapy Assistant- she makes sure his spirits are lifted, and she makes sure he is eating well. I am confident Nancy and I wouldn’t have the strength we’ve mustered up without not just one, but two lineages of strong families. And now, enter the other badass side of our family.
She cleans the deck of sailboats, too! Superwoman, I say.
My dad’s family is also full of strong people who are hilarious, thoughtful, and kind. He has had siblings, friends, and a niece visit him, some on multiple occasions, to help out during his recovery. They traveled from Ohio, Vermont, New York, New Hampshire, and Wyoming. His siblings send him weekly cards via snail mail, cool puzzles, and old family photos. Our cousins were gracious enough to help pay for some of the travel expenses Nancy and I incurred traveling to and from Charleston. I look at my sister and I look at myself, and I think, “Damn. We are so lucky to have all of these people in our lives.”
I can’t end this blog without mentioning someone who came into my dad’s life a year ago and has subsequently become family. My dad started dating a wonderful woman named Karen last year. She came to the wedding in Pittsburgh with my dad and we were thrilled to have her there. Yes, my dad gets all the credit for meeting her. But I can’t help but think my mom had some sort of role in bringing Karen into our lives. Aside from the important fact that she and my dad are a great match, Nancy and I love her- as does our entire family. I can promise you that six years ago, I would have balked at this statement and said it would never come from my mouth. But apparently, a lot can change in six years and we couldn't be luckier. Obviously, she is also a strong, badass, independent woman.
And in case you were wondering, Nick and I have loved our time in Boston and wouldn’t change a thing. We have explored a city rich with history. We value the fact that we live in an area where we can walk to the grocery store and restaurants. We are within a very short drive of some amazing places including Vermont, Maine, NYC, and Cape Cod, just to name a few. We loved “Marathon Monday” and going to the Red Sox game at 11AM. If you’ve made it this far, you should also know that while we loved our time in Boston, we are headed back across the country when Nick graduates and I finish the school year to begin a new adventure in Seattle as Nick starts a new job (and I hopefully find a new job soon!). We couldn’t be more excited, so please come and visit!
