This is it guys. It's our last day in San Diego. Tomorrow morning we close this short but sweet chapter in our lives. Most of you probably assume that, after the not so great first impressions of the area that I live in, I would be thrilled to move on. Most of you will be surprised to hear that I am not.
Here's the truth about moving your family from one location to another:
You plant roots wherever you go. Whether you want to, or not.
Sure, when we got here I figured, "Hell, we aren't here long enough. I'm not even going to try to settle." I didn't paint the walls, I didn't work too hard at making friends (except friends for my kids, of course), we didn't even find a church. We were going to explore the city and enjoy what it had to offer and then move on. It's not worth settling here. But you know what happened?
We settled.
We made friends. We built a home. We found our favorite park, preferred grocery store, best go-to restaurant for dinner, favorite family outing locations. We explored the shit out of San Diego and we realized what a culturally rich city it was, and how much it had to offer to all four of us. We made memories here.
Because that's what you do. You settle.
No matter how hard you might resist it, roots are going to grow. Sure, the neighborhood we moved into wasn't the best part of town. The weather is boring after a while (yes, boring) and the public school my oldest attended was the golden example of how public education is failing miserably, but even so, San Diego became, for one brief year, home. The city is fascinating and alive, and really represents everything good about Southern California (as opposed to say, Los Angeles). Beautiful sunshine, sandy beaches, chill surfer attitude, skaters, rich history, street tacos!!! And unique to San Diego, a city that has adopted, if not completely absorbed themselves in all branches of the US military, which immediately made us feel that we belonged, that we fit in here.
Most military families have adopted the "home is where the military sends us" and it's true. "Home" is not where you originated. Sure maybe "my hometown is _____" but really, "home" is where you are living. San Diego is now a massive vessel of an entire year's worth of my family's memories. For the rest of our lives it will always be where Calen began elementary school. Where Camden learned to ride a bike. Where I fell in love with surfing (even though I only did it once). Where Calen fell in love with baseball (and in particular, the Padres). Where Brad and I fell back in love, because after all, distance makes the heart grow fonder. From Seaport Village to Old Town to Coronado to La Jolla Shores and everywhere in between, this city belonged to us. And for 363 days we called it home without thinking twice. Until tomorrow when we drive away, it is home. And I love my home. And I don't really want to leave my home.
So yes, I'm going to miss it here. I'm going to miss beach trips in January. Family nights at the Padres game, and twice-weekly trips to the world famous San Diego zoo. And if the opportunity should arise to move here again, we would probably take it (and probably opt to live in a different community next time). We have even decided that we will take annual vacations to San Diego while we still live in California.
So thank you, San Diego, for your 363 days of exciting, busy days. Thank you for forcing us to plant roots, even though we didn't want to. Thank you for being home.
Tomorrow, our next chapter in Petaluma, California will start. And you know what will happen?
We will grow roots. And make it home.
