Leaving Rhode Island: Expunged

Dear Rhode Island,

Thank you for the offer to return

Unfortunately, I must decline

Allow me to explain

Five years ago, when you expunged me

(Isn’t that a fun word?  I loooove that word)

I was more than a little devastated

To think that I could never enjoy my home state

Ever again

No more driving by the big blue bug

No more Cardi’s commercials

No more Trinity Rep Christmas Carol

I was bereft

I moved to a little coastal town in Maine

Where I re-established myself

As the crazy young woman

Who teaches third grade

That’s right—I became a schoolmarm

It was quite lovely

My students loved me

I loved them

And I started to think

Well, if I can’t have Rhode Island

At least I can have Maine lobsters

And that didn’t seem too bad

Then one day, I was looking through the travel section at my library

And I came across a book on Rhode Island

Huh, I thought, and then without thinking

I picked it up, and sat down in one of the comfy chairs

And I began to read

I was flabbergasted

I had no idea how much I didn’t know

Now, as I said, I wasn’t happy to leave

But I did think I knew what I was leaving

I’d never been one of those people

Who complained about being bored with Rhode Island

But I also didn’t realize how many things I was missing out on

There were towns I had never even heard of

Beautiful places I’d never gone

Events and festivals I didn’t even know about

Isn’t it remarkable to live in a place

And know so little about it

Rhode Island, I almost feel as though

We were in a marriage

And I stopped appreciating you

My loving husband

While I went about my days

Assuming I knew all there was to know about you

I sat there in that library

Leafing through gorgeous photo after gorgeous photo

Fun fact after fun fact

Deep, descriptive passages about history

And politics

And dining

And people

The people

Oh my goodness

All the people I never met

And to think so many of us spend our days

Feeling bored

Cut off

Alone

What a shame

Dear Rhode Island, I’m sure you’re thinking

‘Well, if she feels that way

Why doesn’t she just come back?’

Well, it’s because I have a new home now

And I think I owe it a little more of my time

I had my chance to explore you

And I squandered it

I don’t intend to do that

With the place I live now

I wish you well in all things

And I hope some of my fellow exiles do return

And take full advantage of all you have to offer

If I had to pick something I missed most

I would pick driving back from a trip to my mother’s in Hartford

The city of Providence

So quiet and still

Resting in a way that other cities can never truly rest

But still alive, still active

Ready to be woken up at a moment’s notice

And offer up a new day

That—and coffee milk

It just doesn’t taste the same anywhere else