25 miles down the road

I found a new place to live late yesterday afternoon. In San Diego. Pretty much where I’d dreamed of living from shortly after the day my former wife Susan told me she wanted a divorce – which was exactly six months ago today. Back there then in her Portland living room, the thought came to me – you can go to San Diego. I aimed to make it happen with all I had to give, and found myself 10 weeks later 25 miles from my target, and back in the ocean. But that turned out to be simply a way station along the way – a stop-off place of gods with boogie boards, gliding pelicans and moonlight palms, and other watery things –

Now, three and a half months later, I have shaken hands with a young guy, he’s welcomed me into his long-time home – the home of him and his pooch – and by this time next week I’ll be moved in, such as that is. In need of minimal furniture, a physically healthier self than I woke to this morning, and a big pocketful of ongoing and expanding wonders and daydreams and outs of this world –

Still a kid – still thrilled, and blessed, to get to take it all in.

Oh, San Diego.