My Penultimates and Lasts

In one week I will be moving from Boston, my second home, where I have lived for nearly a decade.

In one week I will be leaving behind the New England that I’ve known my whole life, and entering a new world just south of the Mason-Dixon Line.

In one week I’ll say so long to family and friends. I’ll load my belongings on to a truck and start driving down I-95.

As suspected but not wanting to fully believe, the summer raged on with what seemed like a vengeful capacity. My “Boston bucket list” has been shrinking at a decent rate, but with one week left, I am destined to leave many tasks unanswered. I’ve been able to do things in town that I have yet to try in all my time here, and has helped me enjoy one last time of others to truly remember Boston.

Since May, I’ve been marking experiences as penultimate and lasts. It began at the end of that month, upon returning from a week-long seminar in Washington. As I watched the city of Boston grow in my window from the plane, I realized it was the last time I was going to land at Logan as a Bostonian. At least for the foreseeable future, I won’t be landing in Logan and taking the T home. Next time I’ll be waiting for a friend to take me to their home.

This new way of marking time has made for nostalgia. It’s made the summer both easier and much more difficult. While sitting at my desk at work, I am certainly comforted in thinking in to the coming weeks and realizing “this will not be my problem anymore,” yet my last Sox game, last docent tour of the JFK library, and last family gathering have been trying to sit through.

I realize this is not the last time I’ll attend a Sox game, see my family or friends, or sing on stage at my favorite karaoke haunt. Yet it feels so final. So ultimate. Visits home will be joyous for sure, yet I’ll feel like an interloper; a visitor in my own past. I’ll feel like an alumna visiting her alma mater to find that things have changed as much as they’ve stayed the same.

Boston is a part of my identity, and I know I’ll never lose that. It’s not just the city, and how it makes me feel, but of all the memories I’ve created by walking on its sidewalks, eating in its restaurants, living in dorm rooms and apartments in very different neighborhoods, and by just living.

As I enter my last week at work, training my successor, I have to keep reminding myself that this is not goodbye. This is so long. And that perhaps my life is in a perpetual state of penultimate moments, as there is always a chance of experiencing them again.

Forever and Always.

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