It Isn’t Going Anywhere

July 2014

Dear Jonah,

You just turned nine but a little over a month ago we went home for the last time. You were born in Portland, Maine and when we left the hospital in 2005 we spent your first night in the house I grew up in. You call it home even though we only lived there for the first four months of your life, but we’ve been back to visit often. It was the perfect place for me as a kid and I’m lucky that your grandparents didn’t move the second I left for college. But I feel even luckier that you got to experience it over the course of nine years. The bed you slept in was the bed that I slept in when I was your age, which is the bed that my dad slept in when he was your age.

I have no doubt that you’ll remember moments from our trips. We celebrated birthdays, weddings, Christmas there. The pool. The Downings. The Ocean. Beal’s Ice Cream. The pond. Sledding. More than I can list, I’m sure, and I now we have some photos and videos (even a Dear Jonah like this) to prove it.

But it was our last visit to that special place. Since shooting this video on the Fourth of July weekend, my parents have moved two hours north. A different family lives in this house now, and I’m sure they’ll enjoy it just as much as we did. And it isn’t like we don’t know plenty of people who are still in Gorham. he ocean is still there. Smiling Hill Farm, too. So we’ll visit, but it will be different. It will be a stop on an even longer visit to your grandparents’ house.


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