(C) Daily Kos This story was originally published by Daily Kos and is unaltered. . . . . . . . . . . Something Like Homesick. [1] ['This Content Is Not Subject To Review Daily Kos Staff Prior To Publication.', 'Backgroundurl Avatar_Large', 'Nickname', 'Joined', 'Created_At', 'Story Count', 'N_Stories', 'Comment Count', 'N_Comments', 'Popular Tags'] Date: 2022-08-09 Welcome to the Street Prophets Coffee Hour. About four years ago my mom's younger sister was passing through our area with her husband, and stopped by for a visit. Loree is a really cool person, and my sole living relative back in San Diego. At one point I asked her what it was like there nowadays. She told me that she and my uncle Jerry still like it. But if I went back there now- after nearly thirty years away- I would no longer recognize the place. I could believe it; by the time I left San Diego was already getting really built up, crowded, and expensive to live in. My son took this picture of sunset in La Jolla a few days ago. Last week Joe left to work for a few weeks in California. He's in my hometown now, seeing many of the places I've mentioned in stories about my life before I became Mom. In the video chats and the pictures he's been sending, I can see that Aunt Loree was right. But also wrong sometimes. Imperial Beach certainly looks different these days. Much newer and more upscale. Touristy. Bright colors and neatly trimmed landscaping. From what I can tell, the old neighborhoods where my friends lived have disappeared. The somewhat shabby houses on big grassy lots that were the scenes of so many house parties, and fish fries where buckets full of surf perch fed us all to the point of gluttony. The little, ancient corner store where we'd buy chocolate bars and Doritos. The huge old eucalyptus trees that were a serious hazard during a heavy storm. The narrow, cracked sidewalks that were poured in the 1940s. All gone. Replaced with cookie-cutter apartment towers, spendy restaurants, and tourist shops. Shell Beach in La Jolla, where I'd go snorkeling. The rickety, dangerous stairs leading down to the beach have been replaced apparently. The sight of Imperial Beach in it's latest incarnation made me feel a little wistful. But it wasn't really unexpected. What truly affected me was the pictures of the beaches. Where I used to spend nearly every day in the summers. And visited as often as possible the rest of the time, even when the water was too cold to swim in, and the sand so chilly it hurt to walk barefoot. I can smell the salt water and kelp even now. I can hear the seagulls and sandpipers call. The beaches are almost exactly as I remember them. And those pictures are almost more than I can bear. I love them, and they make me want to cry. I already knew that I really miss the ocean. I just didn't realize how much. Sea lions at the water's edge. I'm so glad they're still there. I miss the ocean more than I can really express. I'm thrilled that my son is getting to experience the places that I've mentioned so often in my stories. But if I'm honest I have to admit that I'm also intensely envious. The most joyful thing in my life until I left for Arizona was my love for the Pacific Ocean. It was my friend, my comforter, my solace and my peace. It was the one place where I truly felt at home. Like I was always welcomed, always belonged. I didn't leave California because I wanted to. I would have given almost anything to be able to stay. As it was I left with very little apart from my clothes, a small camphor chest full of keepsakes, and a little green budgie I named Beavis. (When I was asked, where's Butthead? I'd reply that I was divorcing him.) I had friends and a job I really liked. But I simply couldn't stay. My ex-husband was stalking me; he'd already come close to murdering me. It wasn't safe for me to remain. But Omigoddess, I miss it. I miss the ocean so much it's a physical pain. I'm not homesick for the house I grew up in. I'm definitely not homesick for the apartment I moved into after leaving my parents home. I'm homesick- or something very like it- for the place where I escaped from that house, that apartment, if only for a day. The place where I found peace and healing. The one place where I always knew I belonged. I miss it so damn much. And it's likely that I'll never see it again. Yes, I even miss these guys. I remember... ...and I remember... ...and I remember. As long as I live, I will remember. Thank you for reading. This is an open thread, all topics are welcome. [END] --- [1] Url: https://www.dailykos.com/stories/2022/8/9/2114301/-Something-Like-Homesick Published and (C) by Daily Kos Content appears here under this condition or license: Site content may be used for any purpose without permission unless otherwise specified. via Magical.Fish Gopher News Feeds: gopher://magical.fish/1/feeds/news/dailykos/