Baltimore: Two Years Later

Almost exactly two years after we left, Jane and I return to Baltimore for a weekend, a quick summer getaway from our new work and home routines. It’s hard to describe the strange sensation of driving back into town in the middle of the night, passing by old familiar waterfronts and neighborhoods in the darkness. In some ways, it feels like we never left. On the other hand, it’s clear that the pandemic years haven’t been kind to our old home - either that, or I’d forgotten how many boarded-up homes and storefronts there were in East Baltimore, how much trash was floating on the sidewalk. Perhaps it’s better to say that, with all its grit and character still intact, Charm City has lost none of its charm since the last time we were around. We only have a short 48 hours to visit this time, but it winds up being a weekend full of rejuvenation and reconnection - and a “greatest hits” of some of our favorite eateries and summer desserts.

After a much delayed hourlong flight from Boston, we arrive at Lindsey’s at an ungodly hour early Friday morning. We wind up sleeping in, and Jane buys croissants and macarons from Sacré Sucré while I work on some upcoming talks. It’s a sweltering day, and, falling into our old summer traditions, we grab Italian ice at Rita’s. In the afternoon, Jane continues to nap while I head up Broadway to walk around the hospital and say hello to some old friends. I stop by our old apartment building (true to form, there’s an ambulance in the driveway out front) and visit Honeydew’s grave site beneath our window. There are flowers on the windowsill where the cats used to sit. As Lindsey wraps up her work day, Jane and I pick up food at Ekiben and a mango shaved ice at Mr. Bingsoo, a new dessert joint nearby in Fells. After dinner, the three of us grab another round of Italian ice and take a sunset walk along the Canton waterfront, ending our evening talking into the night on Lindsey’s roof deck.

Saturday morning brings us absolutely lovely weather - breezy and warm and perfect for a long wandering walk through the city, just like old times. We pass by the Fells Point Farmers Market before continuing along the waterfront to Harbor Point and the Inner Harbor. After stopping to share some Dippin’ Dots (banana split!) in front of the aquarium, we make our way up Federal Hill to take some portraits with a classic view of the Baltimore skyline. We meander down Light Street, stopping to say hi to Decker the hardware store cat before grabbing lunch at Shoyou Sushi.

In the afternoon, we take the Circulator up to Mt. Vernon before returning to the harbor and walking back to the east side by way of Little Italy. Our dessert spree concludes with a lemon granita at Vaccaro’s before we return to Lindsey’s for the afternoon. We wind up sunning again on Lindsey’s deck, enjoying gorgeous views of the water and the city while talking about everything — our work lives, home lives, love lives. Fond memories, kids, and family. For dinner, Jane and I walk out to pick up pizza at Verde’s. We stay up late chatting and watching TV. Jane and I depart in the small hours of the morning, returning to our home in Massachusetts before the city has really begun to stir.

Maryland: A Farewell

Scenes from eight years (August 2012 - June 2020) of exploring and living in the Chesapeake region.

Music:
"Departure (Instrumental)" - Daughter
"Towers" - Bon Iver
"Can't Say Goodbye to Yesterday" - Rika Muranaka & Carla White

Baltimore: Final Sunsets

This is it. The end of my time at Hopkins, and our time in Baltimore.

I feel like I’ve been preparing myself for this day for weeks now, if not months (or practically the whole year, as I look back through this blog). And yet, down to the end, there are still goodbyes to be said, and all the anticipatory grief in the world hasn’t made them any easier. I guess this is how goodbyes are.

This past week was really, really hard for me. Cooped up in an apartment that less and less resembled home, working for hours to make our life possessions disappear out the front door, or into neatly piled boxes, I found myself desperately throwing the windows wide open, or lacing up my sneakers and running down the stairs and out onto the sidewalk. Just to see, hear, and feel the city around me for a little while longer. To go walking - anywhere really - without a direction or a destination in mind. And it felt impossible to go more than a block, in any direction, without triggering an absolutely poignant memory from the past eight years: a particular tree or flowering shrub that I photographed in seasons past. Pawprints studded in pavement, which made me laugh when I first saw them years ago. The memory of a particular patient, or a particular shift in the hospital, which my mind had mysteriously linked (probably through another meandering, introspective walk in the distant past) to a particular alleyway, city block, or part of town. A fragment of skyline, or a passing summer rainstorm, that made the whole place feel familiar - like home. The sunset, shimmering over water. I wanted, badly, to not say goodbye to any of them. Quite unexpectedly and suddenly, I found myself in tears several times during the week, which is not typical for me (my line of work demands a lot of empathy but also a substantial ability for emotional compartmentalization. I’ve joked that I feel like the world’s most emotionally available robot). Yes, it’s been that kind of a week. To be honest, I think I’ll be processing it for awhile.

We’re moving up to Boston, which means that the Mid-Atlantic blog will now officially, finally, come to a close. I’ll pick back up on one of the other pages (haven’t decided yet whether to make a separate entry for Massachusetts, or append to our Maine / Adirondack trips). So, until next time - which will not be long, I’m sure. For now, I’ll share the photos here, including many taken on the fly with the phone camera. These are the record of my final days and sunsets in Baltimore - and the incredible people that I shared them with. I will forever treasure them.