Sixteen Years

Sixteen years ago I moved to California.  I packed 2 suitcases and headed west for six months.  It was a hard decision but a necessary one.  I cried nearly the entire way, maybe part of me knew it was a bigger change than I was telling myself.  I left behind most of my family all of my friends and headed into the unknown.  It is a decision I often look back on and wonder how different my life would be if I had not gotten on that plane.

I imagine I would be more involved with my family; there to celebrate the big events and assist and support in the difficult ones.  I imagine Friday night football games, Saturday night BBQ’s with friends, Sunday dinners with the family, making casseroles for delivery for new babies and illness, and bumping into long lost rivals at the local QT and catching up on the local gossip.  I’d probably have the same friends for the last 30+ years, the ones I’m still in contact with through Facebook.  The ones I hold dear in my heart that will never be replaced yet we are not as close as we could be.  We would be able to talk in person instead of through social networking and via phone.  We’d know more of each others day-to-day lives, successes and trials and rely on each other how only friends for life can.  It would be a different life but a good one.

It’s odd to think of that life.  It’s odd because the way I imagine it is the way I would expect it to play out in my twenty year old mind.  When I think of home I think of how it was 16 years ago.  I think of the same restaurants, hangouts and dramas.  Yet, it has continued to grow without me.  I have continued to grow without it.   I am not that twenty year old anymore.  The things that girl wanted are not the same. 

I still know the smell and sounds of home and love when I first step out of the airport and my senses are overwhelmed.  I do NOT love the heat blast that typically awaits me.  I miss the snow days and the feeling that you are cheating life by getting an unexpected day of freedom.  I do NOT miss driving on ice.  That is just plain scary no matter what!  I miss the night sounds and the calm, warm air after the sun goes down even when the temperature only drops a few degrees.  I miss the feeling of being home.  The history of my youth is there.

I get incredibly homesick but I do not regret my choice to move to California and I would not change it if I could.  I am lucky to live in one of the most beautiful places in the county and I try not to take it for granted. The salt air, sound of waves crashing, mild temperatures, friendly smiles and looking at my son all remind me that this is my new home.  It will never replace my old but it is providing me a life that twenty year old me never could have imagined.  The path I have paved here has been a bumpy one full of hardships and triumphs but it is mine.  I wear it proudly.  My journey has made me who I am and I like me.