Still Standing

My parents are back in their home. The pool is black but the house that I grew up in is still standing. The neighborhood I grew up in is unscathed. Blackened but unscathed. My Nana is home. In the house my mother grew up in. Her garden is covered in ash but her home is fine. Beautiful as it's always been-- a family heirloom, built by my great-grandmother Frances' husband, John whose homes are scattered all over San Diego. Where he lived with my great-grandmother until they passed... Where my Nana met my Grandfather and they settled. And raised my mother and aunt. Where my mother met my father at University. Where we all lived. Grew up. Explored and watched change throughout the years.

San Diego is home. On fire, still. Always home. My aunt got to go home to her house in Rancho Santa Fe. So many homes were lost there. Beautiful homes with acres and orchards and horses. Hers is still standing. It survived. And yet, on the same street... so many were not so lucky.

I still don't know who has lost homes and who hasn't. Old friends. Their parents. New friends. I don't know. But my family is safe. Our stuff is safe. The wind changed. A good thing for us-- but not for so many others. I'm so sorry.

Yes, the wind changed. And so has San Diego. But sometimes that's what happens. And it isn't fair. And it hurts. And none of us can breathe... for now. But we will.

Going home will be different for a long time. But soon enough... And one day...

Like a phoenix from the ashes... Reborn as we help one another stand and face a new life. Press refresh and move forward.



Forward.

GGC