I lived in Los Angeles for about 14 years, but came back to the Pittsburgh area (my hometown) to be closer to my aging parents, somewhere around 2005. I didn't know it then, but could easily suspect in retrospect, that I would stay back east long enough to lovingly walk both parents Home - along with two siblings - and I wouldn't change a moment of it. Having only known the bond of a big family - shit and all - I'm so grateful to still have my beloved sister and best friend Jan, on this side of the veil, as well as our brother Mike. I jokingly tell Jan that we're the "last of the Kennedys", as we were part of a large, incredibly bonded family, well known in the small western Pennsylvania town I grew up in. A tribe that left early, but will forever be recognized by the souls that made up that tribe. A tribe I'm so proud to be a part of.
This in no way suggests that my family was as astute politically or socially as that well known family. (I hear my angel siblings laughing on the other side of the thin veil at the very comparison ...) But we do have something in common - and that is that those of us that are left have found dignity in the ability to let go, and in the awareness that there is no such thing as loss. Not really. More an agreement than a loss. Not an easy thing to grasp. That those that have passed "before their time" were actually right on time for their soul's journey. And I was just along for the ride. Humbling and intimate at the same time - but nothing in all of time more honorable.
All that to say that once our family home was cleared out and eventually sold, I no longer had a good reason to not return to my beloved southern California - something I had wanted to do since I left. Thing is, I was in my early 40's when I left. And I would be returning at age 59. Maybe it's the "Kennedy" in me that feels like I have nothing to lose by allowing myself this dream of seeing what I'm made of, on every level. Funny thing is, I'm finding that the only level that matters is the relationship I have to my Source - my Beloved - my Guide. Nothing else matters as much. Not my jobs. Not my income. Not where I live. It's all about seeing the Divine in every moment. Easy to see Her in my camera viewfinder. Now I'm learning to put the camera down and see Her as clearly. And She is, unspeakably, beautiful.
That said, I plan to kick gentle butt here in LA - and I'm really glad to be back. It's hotter. The traffic is worse. My neighbor plays his music way too loud at times (though I like it, fortunately). And the rent has tripled since I last lived here. But things are happening here, and it's where I want to be, for now.
I believe it's all about the adventure anyway, no matter where my feet land.
Thank you for the footprints that escort me here - and for walking alongside ...