I’ve returned to LA exhausted, sick, and sad. My time back east was very well spent, very busy, and as I spend my first day back resting on the couch and catching up on Tivo’d items, I reflect on the previous days. While I spent both weekends in Massachusetts with friends, the time in between I used to catch up on some long overdue work on my sisters house. This is stuff her, thankfully soon to be ex looser, should have done while he was not working. I built a walkway, 2 gardens, painted her foundation, her porch, and helped her to try and save a stray cat shot by the very evil Dr. Hubbard. I am paying now, though it was worth it, with a head cold, and pains in my body that will take days to recover.
I’m feeling sad that I’ve left, and feeling torn between two worlds. As Phineas sits in his favourite box in the closet I think about this street that I’ve lived on for over 8 1/2 years, and the neighbourhood that helped look for Phin when he got out for the month of October (we think he went to Vegas, though he has yet to fully spill the beans, silly cat!). Then my thoughts wander to my tearful goodbye yesterday at Bradley International Airport. I kissed my niece, wished her happy birthday, and hugged my very awesome sister promising that one day I’ll move back.
As I walked around Newburyport this past sunday my mind went back to my years in Boston, and the trips to various northern towns, and states. The places where I still feel at home. Including the place in Maine where I was a camp councilor and met my dearest Suzanne who, from 1000’s of miles away opened up to me about her late sister upon hearing of my mothers death and thusly became the lifeline that kept me sane those first awful months. My mind weighs heavily on these thoughts as I recover from my flight and the crap in my head.
Then there is this place. LA. A place that I have yet to fully understand as I approach on the 16th the 9 year mark. If it weren't for my ‘hood I would have left years ago. The streets that I walk to the store, the movie theatre, or sushi. The neighbours who helped looked for Phin. The extraordinary friends I’ve made along the way.
I am deeply conflicted and perhaps that is why I write this blog. I never thought I’d be here so long, and I thought much would happen that has yet to come to fruition. At what point do we walk away and try something new, or old?
Abby and I both struggle with this daily as we are both tied to our families on the east coast, and the places that make us feel ok about the world. Maybe that’s the trick, to figure out where we most feel ok, or most happy to be alive. That place that makes us want to get up early because we don’t want to miss anything. We don’t want to miss the dew soaked sunrise, or the sunset that comes after a summer thunderstorm. Perhaps it’s that first snow that falls as you take a sip of your Wicked Winter Ale on the covered back porch while sitting under your sleeping bag. Or maybe you don’t want to miss the hike down to the beach in Malibu, or the weekends in Big Bear. Maybe it’s the Farmers Market on Melrose Place where neighbours gather every sunday and shop for organic food for the week. Maybe...maybe....oy. Too much to think about right now so I’m going to go take another vitamin, and catch some Z’s.
Thanks for tuning in...Until next monday...Cheers!
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