This City

Quicksand

Before I left for college, I went to go see my grandparents one last time. My grandfather wanted to talk to me, and I had a feeling it was important. Dad brought me over, and we all chatted for a few minutes, but then he and my grandmother retreated to the other room so my grandfather and I could talk.

He said, “Jim, my sister never got a chance to meet you, but I think you really would’ve liked her. When I was around your age, she moved to San Francisco. One day before she left, she took me aside, where our parents couldn’t hear, and she said, ‘Bob, I’m so proud of the person you’ve become, and I just wanted you to know that. You’re gonna do great things someday, and I really believe that, but Bob, you gotta leave. You gotta get out of this town and never come back.’

“My sister and I were really close, so that meant a lot to me. I knew that after high school I would move out west and start over, because that’s what she wanted for me, and that’s what I dreamed about. When I graduated, I decided to stay for a few years, build up a savings, acquire some skills that I could use in San Francisco. At some point I got married. Then I had a kid, and then another kid, and then three more, and then my kids had kids, and now, here we are, and it’s far too late for me to go out west.

“Jim, Boston isn’t that far away, I know, but I think you’ll be happy there. If you’re ever tempted to come back home, I want you to remember: This place is quicksand. Never come back.”

I looked at my grandfather and said “There’s nothing for me here,” and he looked at me and said “Good.”