Gracie and I are off to Hingham, MA today. I am picking her up from school early and we are taking the ferry out of Orient Point and driving to see her best friend for the weekend. Gracie is so excited. She and Caitlin were the truest of friends. They met in kindergarten. Caitlin was the “new girl”—an experience Gracie has been through more times than I want to admit. They hit it off immediately and it was bliss ever since.
We had contemplated moving back to NY quite frequently when we were in MA. But our existence was comfortable and we were so tired of change. When Owen was finally “diagnosed” with autism we knew we had to move for reasons of family and, more importantly, education. The school program we have Owen in now blows away the one that was offered in MA. Gracie and Caitlin were devastated.
Caitlin visited last year with her mom and brother. Gracie flew up to Maine, to their summer house by herself in August. And now, she and I are going back for a visit. I have some mixed feelings. Not about Gracie and her best friend but facing Hingham and the friends we left behind. Hingham is a beautiful town. Eleanor Roosevelt once referred to Hingham as “the most beautiful Main Street in America.”
I loved our little neighborhood where we felt so safe—almost sheltered. Across the street was the former chief of police and WWII vet who kept an eye on everything. He built his own house when he came back from the war and was born in the house next door. He and his wife sat for their grandchildren and we would race down our hill in wagons—he beat us every time. Next door was the loveliest couple. Each of them widows who had found love again. Mr. C. reminded me so much of my father. He was the kind of neighbor who would always lend a hand. I loved having chats over our fence. We would banter back and forth as we shared a similar humor. Up the street was my dear friend, another Marguerite. Each night, in the spring, summer and fall we would walk her dog and talk. We could count on each other to ring up on the phone, “I am at Stop and Shop, what do you need?”
It was very hard to leave such a safe and beautiful existence. If Kevin reads this, no doubt he will remind me of the difficult times. It was tough being a NYer in MA. We are diehard Yankees fans—that didn’t make us popular. We were definitely outsiders but we found our niche. Gracie would wistfully say, “I want to live in Hingham forever.” She had her wedding planned out with the church and the reception. I wonder what it will be like for her, visiting this town she loved… When we have gone back to England and visited Chiswick there is no mention of ever moving back. I hope she makes it through okay. She has been through so much change in her 9.5 years.
On a positive, knitting content note, I will be visiting my old LYS, The Creative Stitch. It had just moved locations and was sharing space with Maggie’s bakery. I am excited to see all the changes but a little sad as I miss that shop. We had weekly stitch and bitch groups. It was familiar and friendly and fun. I haven’t come close to replicating that here. Cookies and knitting—what’s better than that?
I guess I better get packed and tidy up. My mom and dad are coming this afternoon to get Cameron and Owen off the bus. It will be hard for Owen. He likes change about as well as I do. Have a wonderful weekend.