Today marks our one-year anniversary as residents of Southern California. We arrived at the airport in Los Angeles, stopped at In-and-Out Burger (so overrated), drove to our unfamiliar home and began something of a new life.
Shortly before doing so, I wrote a post on why we were moving. There was no job transfer, no amazing opportunity. The majority of our family members and friends were back in New York, and we loved our neighborhood on Taymil Road in New Rochelle. In short, we did so because … why not? Because life is short. Because existence can become safely repetitive. Because years tend to merge, then become indistinguishable from one another. Because there was this land we didn’t know so well, with this vast ocean and palm trees and unfamiliarity and adventure.
So here we are.
The one-year grade: A.
I’d give it an A+, but the drought has sometimes consumed my soul with black thoughts. Otherwise, though, I love it here. We love it here. There are nights when I sit out on my patio, overlooking this valley of palm trees and homes and distant sights, and think, “Wow.” Just, wow. Over 365 days, we’ve gone on 101 new adventures. Not just obvious ones, like Las Vegas and the San Diego Zoo. I’m talking parks, walks, beaches, rocks to climb, food we’d never before had. My kids showed up for day one of school last year and looked at us as if they had landed on a distant planet. Outdoor hallways? Everyone in shorts?
I miss my friends. I miss my family. I hate how my mom seems wounded by our departure. But there’s something nice about not knowing anyone; about reestablishing oneself and seeing who/what sticks. We’re closer as a foursome than ever before. Unfamiliarity forced us to do things; to make plans; to explore and dig and see.
I hope, when my kids are adults, they do things like this. I don’t want them to settle into patterns. Not when the world is so large and time so short.
We came to California just … because.
Not sure there’s a better reason.
