What I Am is What I Am; Are You What You Are or What?

I grew up in Boston, surrounded by culture and history and a whole gaggle of family members who also grew up there. My mother walked me around Downtown Crossing, recalling the times she had gone to the "Johdinz" there with her mother. I worked at a pizza joint that my father used to go to when he was in high school. Every member of my family spent time at The Children's Museum, The Science Museum (where it's fun to find out!) and the New England Aquarium (I can walk like a peeeeenguin!) There is this collective memory bank that we've all made deposits into over the past however many years.   

   

Jim Rice! (my dad and me at Fenway c. 1985)    

Who's Jim Rice? (my nephew at Fenway c. 2008)                    

When I was pregnant with The Who, it was odd and disconcerting to think of any kid of mine not being a Bostonian. He wouldn't get to experience all these things that I was so fortunate to have experienced. He'd probably never go the Museum of Fine Arts, probably never go to a Patriots game. Hell, he's probably going to be an Eagles fan and have that dreadful Philadelphia accent. It took me almost the whole 9 months (and then some!) to come to terms with the fact that The Who is not going to have my exact childhood. It took me a few more months after that to realize that this is probably a good thing (right?) because I am not my kid and my kid is not me. (Right?) I think, actually, a friend of mine recently wrote a post on this very topic.

As The Who gets older (and he is getting older, dammit. Where is the time going?) and we get to experience more of what Philly has to offer, I am so grateful for being in a different place than where I grew up. Sure, I want to offer him some similar experiences. There are plenty of things I did as a kid that I think I would love to share with him, but being in a new place means we get to experience new things together and create new memories. In many ways, raising a child away from family and away from childhood familiarity is wicked hard. Even sad, sometimes, but being here instead of there means I really can't foist my experiences onto him. It means he gets to forge his own path.

Cool.