Monday, February 11, 2013
You Always Go Back Home
I'm moving back to my old neighborhood so I can be closer to my parents.
I've been a gypsy all my life, moving about in Miami-Dade countless times. Oh yeah, and then there was that surreal yet amazing three-year stint in Venezuela when I was just barely a decade old.
But fast-forward to this century. If you recall, just a few years ago I moved from Miami Beach to South Miami and then had a respite in Silver Bluff until just recently, when my parents began to require more medical attention.
When people ask me why I'm unmarried without children these days, I have a patent reply: I didn't have children; I had parents.
I skipped that "family" part of life -- went from childless single hood to caregiver in one fell swoop. But hey, isn't this "family" all the same? And aren't we supposed to grow "old" into a space of compassion and patience?
Such is caregiving: the cycle of life, come full circle.
Although I'm happy to report that I'm currently enjoying a relationship. Yes, a relationship that came just in time, completely unexpectedly, with a man whose heart is made of something even more precious than gold, something that broke the mold.
My life has been blessed by even more serendipity lately. This apartment -- the one I really wanted -- wasn't supposed to be vacant, but the previous tenant got a job in Chicago and had to bolt.
It was meant to be.
The move is a win-win. Check out my new view. I miss South Miami -- quite possibly Miami's friendliest, safest and most walkable neighborhood. It's going to be absolutely glorious when that Royal Poinciana blooms.
Once I get settled, Sex and the Beach will resume posting. I'll be writing from this room with a view, with sunshine and big blue skies, bay breezes gracing the air as the water is just about three miles away.
Virginia Woolf once wrote everyone woman needs a room of her own, but you don't want a such a reclusive space where the heart shrivels and dies, wallowing in misery. No, quite the contrary. I'll have the best of both worlds now: a "room" for me but a life embraced by love -- love that gives and receives in its many manifestations.