I moved here – to Atlanta – when I was 10 1/2 months old. So, technically, my parents moved here and I happened to come along. Oh, and my older sister.
We have visited Los Angeles many times and I couldn’t love it more. We were even going to move back at one point and while I knew I would miss Georgia, I couldn’t get over the urge to move back to LA.
I truly don’t feel at home anywhere like I do when I’m in Cali.
It could be because I’m not there often and I want what I can’t have, or maybe it’s that my daddy was born and raised there. My parents met there. My mom got a start in the radio/news industry there. My sister was born there. I was born there. My papa (dad’s dad) is there. My only aunt on my dad’s side is there. My little cousins TJ and Jonathan are there and I don’t know them like I want to. I don’t spend the time with them that I want to. I don’t spend the time in Cali that I want to… I don’t spend much time there at all.
…………..my papa is sick.
He’s been sick for a little while and wasn’t able to come to my graduation… Morgan (sister)’s wedding… things I know he wanted to come for but was unable to travel. I’ve been bummed for a while not being able to see him as much as I see my other grandparents, but fortunately this weekend I get to “go home” and see my Papa. My dad’s been there for a few days but I’m soon be hopping on a plane with my mom, my sister (Morgan) and her husband (Patrick).
It’s very much a bittersweet (who came up with that phrase? what a g.) situation. My Papa is sick, and though I know that no matter how this turns out he has a wonderful relationship with Jesus, it makes my heart hurt. I want him here for forever. I want to make it a regular to see him. I don’t care what it takes, I want someone to either teach him how to use Skype or I’ll fly my butt out there every Summer. I want my Papa here to meet my husband… my kids… I don’t want him to go anywhere.
Here’s the thing, though…. even through all of that… California? You will be sweet.
After 3 years of occasional phone calls, I get to see my Papa. I get to see my Auntie Shanell and her boys. I get to hug my cousin TJ who’s 2 years younger than me and gets taller every five minutes. I get to wrap my arms around little Jonathan who’s 5 and thinks he’s grown, haha. I get to hug my 2nd cousins that don’t even need that “2nd” because I love them just the same. I get to go to church with my daddy’s aunts and uncles and be with all the West Coast people I love.
I get to eat greasy burgers at a stand up burger place in LA and pastrami sandwiches at the most unhealthy restaurant known to man. I get to travel with my big sister (rarity these days), harass my big brother (we don’t do that in-law stuff. he’s family now, i get to harass him…), hang out with my mom and my dad – something that only happens on the weekends when I see them at church.
In the end, no matter what, I will get to spend three days with people that I love SO much. I truly hate how the unfortunate things in life are what bring us together, but you know what? We’re being brought together.
My video camera will not be turning off this weekend. I will capture the moments that I will hold on to as long as I can. I may cry and my heart may cramp but I will live, I will laugh and I will (come on, you know the cliche…) love.
So, West Coast? I’m frustrated as to why I have to go and be with you this weekend. Yet, I am glad you are bringing my family together. I am glad you are giving my Papa the chance to meet the man that stole his oldest grandaughter’s heart and has been a wonderful big brother to your youngest grandaughter. I am glad my Papa can hear me practice my first sermon as he was a preacher and I can’t wait to share my “Intro to Preaching” message with him. I am glad you’re letting me see my boys (Tj and Jon Jon!!!) and as I said a million times, just bringing us together.
I love so much. I really do. But as I can’t stop thinking about the bitter of the bittersweet? I don’t know if I like you, California.