A love note

Today marks one year since Marc and I moved into our new home, a sweet little post-war era house in the lovely San Diego neighborhood of Talmadge. As I look back at the past year of healing, change, and growth, and the difficult period of life that came before it, I’m profoundly grateful for everyone that got me to where I am in this moment.

We’d lived in our one bedroom condo in Bankers Hill for 18 years, and had been in the neighborhood (in fact, on the same street) for over 25 years. The decision to sell our condo and move into a single family home was a long time coming, and it took A LOT of work for me to get there. To my therapist, who helped me recognize the ways that I tend to make life much harder on myself than it actually needs to be, and encouraged me to begin enjoying the fruits of my labors: thank you. To our financial advisors, who helped us feel confident and secure about this enormous decision: thank you. (You were, in fact, like a second set of therapists for us, seeing us through a roller coaster of emotions and decisions.) And to our incredible friend and realtor, whose knowledge and patience seemed to know no bounds: thank you. Your clarity, insight, and instincts led us to the happiest place we can imagine. We left good old unit 13 with appreciation and fondness for the many happy years spent there, and today our lives are transformed by having a little more space, a place to spend time outdoors, and the kind, helpful community of Talmadge. We’ve loved our first year here, learning how to be a little more handy, making it our own, spending time together in the yard, and best of all: being in control of when we have quiet, privacy, and tranquility, and when the walls are shaking and the floor is thumping, guilt-free, with our favorite music.

In my last entry (many months ago now), I wrote of my new struggles with depression. To the doctors that listened to me, and kept tinkering with treatments until we found something that worked: thank you. To the instructors, students, and wonderful community of my neighborhood yoga studio, who have enhanced my health and well-being immeasurably: thank you. To the many friends and family who have kept me moving during this difficult season of life (running, dancing, playing pickleball), checked in with me, laughed with me, enjoyed live music with me, played games with me, and generally didn’t let me collapse in on myself despite all of my strongest impulses: thank you.

And finally: I lack the words to properly thank my family, Millie and Marc. Millie’s comfort and contentment in our new home, her delight in perching at the big front window and zipping around her little patch of yard, and the way she’s charmed our new neighborhood are constant reminders of our great fortune to be here. Marc: you were ready for this move many years before I was, but never insisted. You waited patiently for me to be ready, and I know you share my deep appreciation for all of the professionals that got me over that goal line. You’ve always been a thoughtful and attentive husband, and it’s been a joy to see you learn to tend to the details of home ownership as well. You’ve seen me through some pretty rough years – always knowing when to let me throw myself a little pity party, and when to stop me from taking myself so seriously. And as much as I hate to admit it: the new sound system is pretty rad. So, thanks for that too.