Getting Lost in Boston and Finding Our Way

I learned yesterday that Boston has the fourth oldest subway system in the world, so that’s crazy to think about. I feel adept at figuring out underground transit systems and have navigated many in big cities across the country. Usually, I get a multi-day pass because it’s typically the cheapest and then if i have money left, I give my transit card to a homeless person. However, I am keeping my Boston transit card because it’s called a “Charlie card.” I love that. It reminds me of my cat, Charlie.

The Boston trains are easy and Shayne and I figured them out right away; it was above ground we had trouble.

First off, Shayne has the kidneys of an old man from the heavy pharmaceutical drugs he uses to control the voices. At home, I don’t notice, but when we travel, it is a factor we have to consider. There are no bathrooms on trains, and public bathrooms can be hard to access in big cities. We decided to take a hop on and off again trolley. Usually they give a nice overview of the area and it was raining most of the day, so it seemed like a good way to cover all the area we wanted to see.

Except we almost missed the first connection because Shayne got lost trying to find a bathroom.

Old Boston has streets that were made following cow parhs. Shayne called to to tell me he was lost. I gave him my cross streets, but it wasn’t super helpful because cow paths don’t run on grids. I wasn’t even worried, which kind of surprised me. I was resigned to wait where I was, figuring eventually he would find me. He did, running and wheezing like a mad man, just in time for the trolley. He sat next to me panting and trying to catch his breath. I thought about asking him where in the hell he went, but instead just said, “Well, I guess you got your work out in.”

We hopped off the trolley and had lunch at Cheers, which brought back all the feels about growing up with that show. The food was ehhhh. But the ambiance–amazing.

Instead of hopping back on the trolley, we walked through Boston Commons and the public gardens. And then had no idea how to get back on the trolley, so we went into a library in Chinatown to charge our phones. I found a book to read and Shayne watched Mission Impossible on his phone. I thought the phone would charge better if he didn’t use it, but a familiar track of music or a script he knows by heart helps him with the voices. I showed the librarian my trolley map and she told me how to get to the next stop. She wasn’t exactly right, but we recognized enough to find the stop. Then we got off the tolley again in the North end and had the best cannoli we ever had in our lives.

The restaurant guy spoke Italian and never stopped talking to the girl behind the bar the entire time. She never responded at all. I wondered if she was even listening to him.

Shayne and I read the menu together and it sounded crazy delicious, but the prices were also crazy expensive .

I asked the bartender if we could take the train to the beach. I already knew the answer but I wanted to see if he had a different suggestion. The girl said, “Wonderland,” in a very heavy Italian accident, she maybe she was listening after all.

I knew Wonderland was a subway stop, not an amusemnt park, although that would have been fun.

Wonderland is the last stop on the blue line and a place of waterfeont condos and bars and grills. It wasn’t rainy by the shore, but overcast and cool. It seems like I always find myself on deserted beaches with gray skies and a few seagulls. The tide was coming in and the sand was littered with seashells. Shayne ran around gathering up big shells and putting them in my backpack. He is such a little boy at the beach.

When we got back to the hotel, I was going to read a book I got about famous women in Massachusetts history–there are so many–but I fell asleep.

When I woke up, it was the middle of the night. Shayne was gone. No note . Nothing. I worried for a half a minute, but he gets restless and I figured he would find his way back. When I woke up to write my blog, he was asleep in his bed. Mission Impossible was playing silently on his screen.

Traveling with Shayne requires patience, flexibility and the ability to just let the day unfold as it does. It definitely feels more like traveling on a cow path than a grid.

I think back to when Shayne first got sick. He’d bolt away and I would be sure I’d never see him again. I would have been terrified to put him on a plane, or ride a subway with him. I would not say all my fear is gone, but I am not afraid of him disappearing and not being able to find his way back.

He is still a person and he still loves to laugh and explore and discover. Isn’t that what traveling is supposed to be about anyway?

The fact that we are together–exploring, learning, and making memories–and I am not worried about him every step of the way shows how far we have come.

Maybe the streets of Boston aren’t so different from the path we’ve been on. There isn’t always a grid. Sometimes you get lost. Sometimes you have to stop and ask for directions. Sometimes you end up somewhere you never intended to go.

And sometimes, you find your way back.

I guess we really are finding our way.