I had a thought the other day; “I don’t know how to leave, and it’s killing me.” I do mean that literally. I don’t feel like I belong in Boston anymore, I just don’t know how to leave. Do you plan? Do you just wake up one day and say fuck it and hit the road?

A couple years ago not long after selling my house I had a really bad panic attack one day. I had only lived with my sister a couple months so it didn’t feel like home and I remember during the panic attack all I could think was “I just wanna go home”. The home I wanted to go to didn’t exist anymore though. Fiancé had left, dog had died, house was sold. It was May 31, 2023.

Two years and some later I still want to go home. My sister’s house still doesn’t feel like home. Even worse, Boston doesn’t feel like home anymore. This whole thing started with forgiveness.

“Forgiveness is setting a prisoner free and then discovering the prisoner was you.” – Someone really fucking profound. For YEARS I’ve wanted to leave Boston but I’ve always felt guilty because of my parents. My parents made a lot of mistakes for a big part of my childhood. Now as they get older and their health deteriorates I feel guilty leaving because what if I’m not here when they go?

I realized today that part of forgiving my parents, especially my dad, also means understanding that the time lost that I feel guilty about, I didn’t lose it. I didn’t throw it away. That was time that I was supposed to have my parents in my life for, to teach me all the crucial life shit. I ended up figuring it out(kinda). Now the time they wasted has me wasting my time.

I find myself conflicted from time to time with feelings around my dad. He’s a nice enough guy but he’s not a good man. That I know I’ll carry for a long time because all the things that make him not a good man are all the things I know I HAVE to be. A good partner to whatever woman is foolish enough to marry me. A good dad to whatever children I’m blessed with. A good role model in my community. A leader, a missionary. I was driving home the other day and a woman was on the side of the road with a flat tire. I pulled over, approached very cautiously and asked if she wanted me to change it. I genuinely didn’t mind being on the side of the highway is dangerous if I can help someone get out of that situation faster I always will. Anyways I changed the tire and she tried to give me money and I refused. I explained to her that I didn’t do it for something in return, I did it because it’s the right thing to do. As I walked back to my car I looked down and my hands were the dirtiest they’ve been in a long time.

I called my mom and I said “Dad didn’t make me a good man, but he did give me skills that allow me to be one.” I explained that my dad didn’t teach me to pull over and help someone on the side of the road, but he did teach me to change a tire. Even to this day my dad would say don’t pull over for people it’s too dangerous. I disagree.

Over the last week or so with that happening and spending time at work and finishing a book my friend Josh gave me I realized that I can leave. I don’t owe it to my parents to stay because their health isn’t great and they choose not to make the lifestyle changes they need to. I owe it to myself to follow what’s on my heart.

I don’t know where I’ll go, I have some things I have to do in Boston this summer. Some blessings to send other people’s way before I leave. God has put it in my heart to do some missions with the church, and to be generous to a couple of friends. I’ll do all that before I go. I know that in November I’ll go down to Asheville North Carolina and spend some time hunting and in the smokey mountains. I know that when I move it’ll be south not north.

Josh once told me you’ll never be more than 70% certain of any decisions you make in life. He said “I dated my wife for 12 years before we got married, and still when I was at the altar it was like my liver was doing back flips. I had the Elvis shaky legs.” He said you’ll only ever be 70% sure, the other 30% just comes from faith that it’ll work out how it’s meant to. I’m about 70% sure I’m ready to leave, but that’s all I know. The rest I’ll have to trust leads me to where I’m supposed to be. Whenever I’m having a bad day Josh reminds me of one of his favorite things to say:

“You’re in the right place,

At the right time,

With the right people,

Doing the right thing.”

Where the skies are gold not gray,

J.