To Boston and Back

Once I left my hometown I headed for Boston. Why Boston? I honestly have no idea…..it was the first big city that popped into my head as I stood on the side of the Mohawk Trail that led out of town.  I ended up on Tremont St. in Somerville, which is a small bedroom community/college town sandwiched between Cambridge and Boston.Just me, my backpack and my guitar, walking up and down this little side street that was half-residential and half-commercial. All the details of what happened next can be better absorbed by surfing over to my front porch clicking on stories and reading Mrs. Mitchell!!   It’s one of my favorite stories and it’s  been put into a rhyme….

Guess I’ll be saying that a lot during this blog if I’m making a serious attempt to chronicle my life because so many of the things and situations that I’ve been through have been turned into poems….stories that rhyme!   I remember my daughter Kat asking me “Mom? Instead of writing stories about made-up stuff, why don’t you write about some of the awesome things that have actually happened to you in your life?” Hmmmm….. good question — smart kid!

But it actually was kind of problematic….storytelling and rhyming have always come naturally to me (thank you Lord!!) but creating a story about imaginary people is one thing….you can play with the facts if you have to make it rhyme.But if you’re telling a story about something that really happened? You don’t have that kind of leeway….change the facts to fit the rhyme and there goes the truth, y’know? But, as with most problems in my life, once I gave it to Jesus it just sort of worked itself out! I’ve been saying for years that Jesus is the Poet…I’m just the pen!! If it’s a story that He wants told, then somehow there’ll be a way to make it rhyme!

Anyway, for those of you who aren’t going to surf over and read Mrs. Mitchell right this minute….the gist of my 2 years in Boston is this:  Met a man, 28 years older than me and no, that’s not a typo — had lots of adventures, a few mishaps,and a beautiful baby girl! When she was a year old, I moved back to my hometown and into an apartment up the street from my sister, who’d gotten married while I was gone and had a baby too. She eventually moved to Miami,and I got myself married for the first time (no not to Kat’s daddy) to someone who really had no business marrying anyone….too much emotional baggage to be able to offer anyone else anything. But, hindsight is a wonderful thing…..I was only in my 20s and convinced if I just loved him enough I could fix anything.

WRONG! Even when God tried to steer me away from hubby #1, I didn’t listen! I was young and dumb and convinced God just didn’t understand…I could fix whatever was wrong with him. Sigh…. that was the first of many lessons I’d have to learn the hard way in my younger years. When it came to being hard-headed? Back then an Israelite in the desert didn’t have anything on yours truly!!  So I married him, and stuck it out for 3 years before disaster struck and he committed suicide.

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