Boston: The Flowering City

After a rather long and dreary winter, spring finally comes to us here in the city, delayed but all the more welcome for it. To gear up for a distance race later this year, I’m hitting the pavement again after a few years of inconsistent fitness. On my regular jogs up and down the Muddy River, the tree-lined path is carpeted in violets and bluets, and a procession of flowering shrubs and trees greet the eye as the month continues: forsythia, pear, and crabapple; serviceberry, dogwood, and plum. It’s taken awhile for me to get to know my neighbourhood trees here in the suburbs, even though we are nearly at the four-year anniversary of our move up to Boston. Unlike our Baltimore era, which was marked by some stability (eight years as students/trainees, largely inhabiting one apartment and living one lifestyle), our time in Brookline has been one of rapid and accelerating change. One year emerging from the pandemic, another year as new homeowners, the next as new parents. It’s only now, in the fourth year, that we finally seem to have achieved something resembling a pattern, a lifeway. Jordan, meanwhile, is changing even more rapidly. Now walking independently and babbling more and more incessantly each day, our newly minted toddler is a joy to be around. He’s constantly smiling, giggling at almost everything we do around the house, off-tunedly singing the melody of “Baa Baa Black Sheep” before he goes down for his naps. Worse yet, he’s funny and he knows it. He knows just how to wobble, make a face, pretend to fall backward from the windowsill or into our arms, to make us laugh. He’s starting to become more demanding about his wishes and wants, starting to catch big feelings when we say no — but never for long, as we are usually able to get him to laugh about something else within a few minutes. Perhaps he’ll lose his sense of humour someday. Something tells me he never will.

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This month has been marked by a number of outings to enjoy the increasingly fine spring weather, and to photograph some of nature’s beauty just as I used to do in Maryland:

April 14, 2024: A mid-day outing to Crystal Lake in Newton, marking Jordan’s second time ever riding the T. We grab some desserts at Lakon Paris Patisserie in Newton Highlands (a tiramisu cup and a coconut/mango/passionfruit mousse), which we bring with us to a lakeside picnic table along with fruit, tater tots, fishsticks, and onigiri packed from home (ostensibly for Jordan’s lunch, but we wind up sharing everything). It’s a lovely spot for us to enjoy the weather and for Jordan to watch the passing Green Line trains - until rain starts to fall, that is.

April 27, 2024: Jane’s parents visit us for the weekend. On Saturday, we take a morning walk at the Arnold Arboretum, climbing up to Bussey Hill before circling the park and taking some photos with Jordan beneath a cherry tree in full bloom. In the afternoon after Jordan’s long nap, we go out to the library and a nearby park.

April 28, 2024: After heading to the Franklin Park Zoo with Jane’s parents, in the afternoon we take a local walk and play with Jordan at our nearby playground.

Cape Ann: Winter Getaway

Just 24 hours after I return from my road trip down the Oregon Coast, Jane and I turn the luggage around, pack Jordan’s things (half our house contents and life possessions) into the car, and take a 3-night getaway in Gloucester, on Cape Ann. The weather is still fairly snowy and miserable at this point in mid-February, and Jordan has had a run of upper respiratory viruses from daycare (which he dutifully transmits to us every other week), but we are determined to go out as a family and try new things (even if just an hour from home) now that Jordan is reaching a more robust age and size for traveling. We’ve rented the top floors of a little house on the edge of town, a lovely space with several bedrooms (for us and Jordan), a loft (for getting away from Jordan?), and a full kitchen, which I use to cook up a succession of nice pescatarian-friendly dishes for the family (a full ratatouille and Provençal cod baked with olives and peppers on one night, and on another, a salad of seared calamari, peppers, scallions, topped with a sesame vinaigrette and parmesan).

During the day, we make some tiny forays out into the biting cold to walk around Good Harbor Beach and explore Gloucester’s maritime waterfront. Since Jordan is still sick (and in fact fevering on and off during most nights of the trip), we scrap our original thoughts of taking him around Cape Ann, instead limiting our time in the frigid outdoors. We mostly spend the long weekend playing with him in the house (walking around the house with him holding our fingers with his two little hands, and pulling up cozy fireplace music streams on Youtube on the big television screen in the loft). On our last day in town, I sally out to explore Stage Fort Park and get a takeout platter of fried seafood from Seaport Grille on the waterfront, which Jane and I share for lunch. In the evening, we return with Jordan to take golden hour photos of the Gloucester skyline and show Jordan the climbable tractor structure in the park’s playground (he has developed quite the affection for large vehicles and working trucks in the past few months). Then the following morning, it’s a frenetic pack, drive back to Boston, and unpack to get ourselves settled back into routine life at home.

Massachusetts: Year's End

Just like that, we are at the end of yet another year - this one in some ways the biggest, most beautiful, most complicated year of my life-to-date. 2023 was a year of change and challenge. It started with us jumping into the maelstrom of parenthood, and ends with an ongoing search for soul and self, place and peace - a neverending journey, as this blog can attest to over many years. In a year’s time, Jordan has transformed from our tiny newborn babe into our much bigger babe, on the verge of toddlerhood. Already I can see the shades of his personality and temperament, especially where they so closely mirror mine: he is strong-willed but adaptable, always confident yet sometimes so insecure and in need of love. He seems thus far, like me, to be an unrepentant introvert, and his sense of balance and body control is, like mine… not particularly gifted. But he is so beautiful in every way, and I love that he is becoming his own person, that he has favorites (“Mamamamamamuh…”), that he is becoming more creative and expressive as he acquires mobility and cognitive ability, and, most of all, that I can already tell he will not be a perfect child or a perfect person, which will only make me love him more.

As I reflected a few months ago, Jordan’s existence has brought into sharp relief the contours of my life - the choices and tradeoffs I make every day passively or explicitly, and the precious fleeting quality of the time that I have. Ephemeral experiences have been the centerpiece of this blog for many years, often exemplified by the passage of seasons, faraway or familiar landscapes transformed by time, and the changing of foliage over each year’s rhythm. With Jordan, this experience is magnified and amplified; it is like I wake up (and come home) to a new shade of brilliance on my Little Leaf, every day. That, along with a new family illness (my father, who was Jordan’s primary caregiver throughout the summer months, was unexpectedly diagnosed with colon cancer earlier this month, and is beginning to undergo treatment), have led to much soul-searching as the year draws to a close. I have always been a planner, and I have always been aware of my own mortality; now, I have a bucket list, organized by year and half-decade. I have always thought of myself as organized and responsible; now, I have a roadmap for exactly how I want to spend my lifetime’s worth of time and resources. This year has tested my sense of self, shaken up my marriage and family life (not always for the better), and subjected me to a level of physical and emotional exhaustion I thought I left behind in medical training. But, I come out of it in better physical shape than I have been in years (since pre-pandemic), more resilient (so many stressors no longer matter when you haven’t budgeted the life energy to give a shit), and ever more confident of my personal priorities, and the path I want to walk in the remainder of my life. Onward, to the remainder.

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December 15-17, 2023: A joyous weekend spent in Milwaukee, where I was given the opportunity of a lifetime to officiate the wedding of Ali and Ashley, two of my best friends from the Maryland era. It was my first time visiting Wisconsin and first time really spending any significant time in the Midwest. Despite that, Milwaukee engendered a feeling of peace and belonging in me; I walked around downtown each morning before wedding-related programming, getting my meals at the holiday-bedecked public market, and perhaps this is nostalgia speaking, but I was struck by how closely the city resembles Baltimore (right down to the direction and feel of the drive in from the airport, the industrial grit, and the overly ambitious yet charmingly underwhelming waterfront). I was also struck by the genuine and kind spirit of the people I met, not the least including Ali and Ashley’s families, who so graciously welcomed me into the festivities and made this humble introvert feel like part of a big family. A truly special experience I will always be thankful for.

December 22, 2023: Jane, my mom, and Jordan, come down Brookline Avenue to “pick Daddy up” from work on Friday night. We take portraits with the lit trees outside the Shapiro Building. The night is freezing, and poor Jordan’s little fingers are icy by the time we return him to the stroller and get back home.

December 23-27, 2023: A Christmas vacation to my mom’s lakeside house in Plymouth (sans my dad, who is in California recovering from abdominal surgery). On Saturday, we arrive and set up; after I do groceries for the week, Jane and I sneak out for a lunch buffet at Rio Brazilian Steakhouse while Jordan naps with Grandma. On Sunday, we visit Plymouth Beach and Nelson Waterfront Park in the morning before I bake a Christmas ham (served with mashed potatoes, gravy/cranberry jam, and roasted vegetables). On Christmas Day, we take a brief morning walk in Morton Park, where I photograph Jordan playing with pine duff and acorns on the forest floor; in the evening, we see sunset at Plymouth Harbor and take photos with the light display at the Brewster Gardens. On Tuesday, Jordan naps in the car as we drive south to Falmouth. We visit the Nobska Point Light, Nobska Beach, and the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute’s public aquarium (a lifelong dream of mine since studying oceanography with Jane in high school). After saying hello to Bubba the harbor seal and showing Jordan the fish tanks, we bring Jordan to his first ever sit-down restaurant experience (at Captain Kidd in Woods Hole). My mom has a lobster roll, while Jane and I share a fried platter and clam chowder in a breadbowl; Jordan eats his jar of mashed potatoes and scrambled eggs from home while maintaining eye contact with all the other patrons in the dining room. On Wednesday morning, we return home to Brookline in fairly heavy mid-week traffic.

December 28-31, 2023: A few days of re-centering while experiencing new things. We bring Jordan to do groceries, eat out again (twice - once at a Japanese market and once at an Indian buffet), visit several playgrounds, ride the T for the first time, and even attend his very first “gym” class. The poor child is exhausted and burnt-out after a week of firsts, so we ring in the new year with a very quiet day doing his favorite thing - playing with Mama at home.