Develop an attitude of gratitude, and give thanks for everything that happens to you, knowing that every step forward is a step toward achieving something bigger and better than your current situation.
-Brian Tracy

Thursday, January 2, 2014

Day 2: New Englander

Today I am grateful to be from New England.  I am grateful for the seasons and the weather that makes each one unique.  Some may read this and think, 'I'd never want to live in a place where the summer months can reach 100 degrees and the winter can feel like 10 below!  Or better yet, in the same week it can be 60 degrees and 35 degrees!'  I have to admit that there are times when I feel the same way, and moving to a more neutral climate seems the most logical idea.  There have been times I've looked up real estate in North Carolina.  For the most part though, I am grateful to have been born and raised in Massachusetts.  

New England is a beautiful to place to live.  The colors of the leaves in the fall attract people from all over, and the spring here is, without a doubt, the perfect combination of warm breezes and cool air.  What I've learned to love the most is the changing between the seasons.  While there have been years, and some recently, when it seems like there has been 6 months of winter, 1 month of spring, 3 months of summer, and 2 months of fall - for the most part the seasons share the calender with some sense of equality.  It still amazes me that there are places and people who have never experienced the first day of fall, or watched as snow piles up outside.  


In college I remember waiting patiently for the first day of spring.  I don't mean March 20th, since that rarely actually means spring in New England.  What I am thinking about is the first day of the year when you can open the windows and smell the fresh air.  The day you can wear a short-sleeved shirt, jeans, and flip-flops.  In college it meant the end of hibernation, snow boots, and running from class to class to avoid the bitter wind.  The college green would awaken with kids reading on the grass, playing Frisbee until it was too dark to see, and begging professors to hold class outside.  This was the true beginnings of spring.  It was also, throughout my entire life, the time when hours in school felt like days.  With the classroom windows open and the warm air blowing inside, all I wanted to do was get outside and play 4 square or "town."  Spring also meant the streetlights started coming on a little later so my time outside was also extended (as I was often reminded to come inside when the streetlights turned on).  Spring has always been one of my favorite times of the year.


Summer would follow shortly after. In New England the season of spring seems to last about 4 weeks, if we're lucky.  I've never been a big fan of the summer, except the years we spent at the YMCA.  My whole family - and I mean my mom, aunts, cousins, and any random friends that tagged along - would show up at the Saugus Y right when the gates opened to make sure we got "our spot".  If someone couldn't be there in time one of my aunts would get there and lay claim; by the end of the summer people stopped asking if she really needed the whole picnic table.  We would all get to the pool around 11:30 and stay until dinner time, sometimes even past that if it was a late night event.  My cousins and I would spend most of the time swimming, but the time spent outside the pool would end up being what sticks in my memory the most.  I learned to make friendship bracelets sitting beside the "kiddy" pool watching my youngest cousin splash and swim, and I mastered the game of SPIT during the 15 minute adult swim that took place each hour.  Those years the summer months were what I waited for - it meant swimming, playing, and most importantly, being with my family.


Fall is my favorite time of year.  It unfortunately shares the same lifespan as spring - 4 to 6 weeks of true fall weather.  As a child, fall was the beginning of school.  For some that might have been the most dreaded time of year; for me it was the most exciting.  I loved school, and still do to this day.  Fall was the time of year to break out the sweaters, sweatshirts, and long pants.  Fall was also when my Dad would start lighting the wood stove.  Usually the first fire would be on Halloween, but some years we lucked out and it would get cold enough to get it crackling a few weeks earlier.  I remember helping my Dad crumple up the newspaper he kept hidden under the couch and throwing it into the stove.  The smell of newspaper still makes me think of those nights.  Once the fire was started I'd grab a book and sit as close as I could to the comforting warmth.  One summer we were treated to purple, pink, and blue flames - the remnants of a boat and the product of the salt water had a magical effect on the fire.  Fall has slowly evolved to also mean the start of the baseball post-season - the Red Sox are simultaneously loved and hated in our house.  While it is technically summer, I associate my wedding anniversary with the fall.  A beautifully, rainy day in September 2009 was the beginning of my new life as a wife.  The fall is just special.


Then comes the winter, barreling into our lives as New Englanders with such force and longevity it seems to be the predominate season in our region.  Today the snow is falling and will continue to fall until tomorrow afternoon.  I love it.  Of course there are parts of the snow that I hate - the driving, the shoveling, and the wet; but, the snow is beautiful.  It feels like a blanket and provides most people with the opportunity, however brief it may be, to stop what they're doing and breathe.  One of my favorite quotes goes as follows: 



The first fall of snow is not only an event, it is a magical event. You go to bed in one kind of a world and wake up in another quite different, and if this is not enchantment then where is it to be found?
 Being from New England means I have the amazing memories of falling asleep in the fall and waking up in the winter.  For some reason the snow always seems to brighten everything up.  I remember trying to stay awake on nights before or during a snow storm to see if Saugus Public Schools would scroll across the list of towns closing school.  Usually it didn't happen until early the next morning, and my Dad would wake me up and tell me to go back to bed, "no school today."  Even a loyal student enjoyed a day off here and there.  The snow also meant my Dad would go out plowing in his truck which we fondly referred to as "Mr. Wicked".  The truck was massive.  I'd get to sit in the passenger seat while my Dad cleared the roads in Saugus.  I'd watch the plow push away the snow from the road and make amazing piles, perfect for building tunnels and forts.  The winter also brings memories of sledding behind Blessed Sacrament, attempting to make snow angels, and learning to ski on Mary's "hill" next door.  The snow is one of the biggest reason I'm grateful to be from New England.

When people ask if where I would live if I could pick any place in the world, I'd stay put.  Honestly.  The changing of the seasons feels like a fresh start every few months; one that everyone experiences together.  It's exciting to see other people in sandals and dresses when the sun starts really heating it up; and watching kids build snowmen and sled down any hill they can find brings me true joy.  The four season are made to be experienced; and I'm grateful to have been born and raised in New England - where I can continue creating memories unique to spring, summer, fall, and winter.       








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