We now live in one of the most beautiful cities I've ever laid eyes on. Over-sized fuscia blooms and swaying palm trees and ancient eucalyptus trees. Bungalows, hills, and green for miles. There's a contentment in the air—superfluous Vitamin D, tacos, and open space, I think. I'm still wrapping my mind around people living here. California always meant vacation to me. But here we are, doing the laundry and going to church like normal. Driving? Driving. Driving everywhere! It's so strange. Our own personal cheerio and iPad universe flying down the freeway to our next house hunt appointment.
I feel pangs of missing for Brooklyn—but mostly for my friends and family there. I didn't realize how ready we were until we took the plunge and found just what we thought—another amazing life on the outside. It was so hard to see it but we knew we needed it. It was time.
These pictures make me cry. Will Silas remember his birthplace? (Does he even know he was born in the same hospital Dr. Mindy Lahiri delivers in?!) Will he remember the cherry esplanade, surrounded by best friends and sneaked snacks and the perfect early Spring day? Will he remember his first Indian food, or shrimp tempura sushi, or pork bone ramen? Or the Fireworks on the Hudson, or Storm King, or early morning bike rides through Brooklyn Bridge Park? Does any of this stuff even matter? We lived a simple life inside our tiny, but perfect-for-us apartment. It was where we ate together, cried together, invited friends over, and learned how to depend on and trust in each other. When I think of where we brought our two boys home from the hospital, I think of home. I love home. I miss it, and so desperately want to recreate that sense of security and us-ness in this new place.
I do love a fresh start. As Anne Shirley's teacher always said, "Isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet." I'm on the cusp of getting down the two-kids thing, and trying to wrangle this new place with all its new (old) ways of life, as well as some side projects, and feeling a little overwhelmed. But I'm trying to maintain perspective: gratitude for all these opportunities for learning and patience to take them one at a time. Ugh, patience is the worst. I like things now, just the way I like them! and everything about what I'm doing in my life is the opposite. But I know I need to be and let be. Everything will work out.
Three cheers for a good night's sleep and a fat, brand new sunny day.