Contemplation after a long car ride

I hate coming home after visiting family. I had such an effortless time with them. We drank, played cards, built fires in the middle of the woods and gathered. There was a lot of gathering. It is the thing to do when you live in a city with little money and lots of crime. On my first day their, I heard about two boys who had just been shot in gang related violence. The from page of the Lowell Sun said that police have taken notice and are now dedicated to fighting gang violence, which has been a major problem in Lowell for more than half a decade. I heard that they were shot right near my dad’s best friend’s house. A mother lost her two teenage sons only a few from the couch were I was sleeping.

I hung out with Jenn’s kids; played with them in the pool, watched movies, and took her youngest one for a midday stroll. Jenn is 22. I have known her my whole life and for the 14 years that I lived in Lowell she was like family. Every Friday and Saturday night the parents would gather around the kitchen table leaving six kids to make their own fun. The parents had been friends since high school. Now married and in their early twenties, they made child a village in which to raise their kids. Just like my parents were two decades ago, Jen is 22, married with two little girls. I have a hard time thinking that this could be me. That if I had not left Lowell at age 14, I could have kids of my own.

I am proud of Jenn. She has two beautiful babies, works two jobs, and still makes time to clean and socialize. She seems to have things under control. She is moving out of her mom’s house and getting her own. She looks great. I think that she looks healthier and slimmer than I can ever remember her being. But, I am still weirded out by the gap between me and her. We are roughly the same age. I am worried about my internship and my roommate. She is worried about making ends meet and her three year old who is still in diapers.

It’s an eye opener. I remember where I came from and the people who are really important to me in life and they are all in Lowell. They have grasp into the world that I am living. They don’t understand how hard it was for me to finish NYU and to build a resume. But they do know hard and they do know work. Just a different kind, a kind that I can almost remember but, have never really experienced myself. I sit in my 400 sq apartment in New York City. My half of the rent is as expensive as their mortgage on a family home. I wonder which life is better, I love they way I feel when I’m at home in Lowell. I love the passion and the drama that I don’t really fit into. But, I know this is the place I need to be. I worked so hard to be here and before me, my father did everything he could to give me a “better life”. I guess not better, just bigger and filled with different things. In New York City, we gather. But, it just doesn’t feel like a loving home. New York City life is finding a comprimise between seeing the people you want to see, your friends, and seeing the people you have to see in order to achieve success. You are always surrounded by people but, you never nkow if they are the "right" ones.