I felt like I was in the palm of God’s hand as the sun set on the pier.
Alone, I watched the oranges mingle with the pink hues,
warm colors blending into the cool night sky.
The ocean water reflected the remaining sparks of light,
and soon these sparks were only glitters of the lights of the city.
Appreciating the majesty of the scene spread before me, I
walked slowly to my car, drinking in every moment. I knew it could
very well be another year before I would be able to see again the wonders of
the bay at twilight.
On the drive home from San Francisco, I thought thoughts
to myself, contemplating, for the first time, the reality of moving back to the
state I so deeply swore in which I’d never again live.
As I drove east on 580 crossing the stretch between
Pleasanton into Livermore, a second ocean spread before me. It was an expanse of sparkling amber and
iridescent diamonds. Rubies freckled the
earth and the far reaches of the landscape drew me back to the years of my
childhood. I was driving down through the valley at night. My family and I had made this same
trip several times before.
The horizon shimmered before me, beckoning me with these
tender memories.
And all at once the tears came. My thoughts were indecisive, and too overwhelming. Lyrics of a poignant, sad song filled my
temples, my heart erupting in a chorus of confusion and pleas to God to light
my path—His path for me.
The span of jewels blurred. Leave California? Easy enough.
Leave my family? Tougher every year.
Instead of being held captive by the city below, I was bound by my memories.
And the sadness I felt was a reflection of the
realization that future memories are limited.
I only have so much time left to make memories with my
family. How can I justify living 2,000
miles away from them any longer?
Through the dark hills, the lights drew me closer into the
city, all the while losing their magnetizing luster.
The ocean of sparkles turned into streetlamps and
taillights lit the road to my childhood home. Like a landing pad for a plane, the sight drew me in.
If home is where the heart is, the question remains, just
where is my heart? And where are the
lights bound to lead it?
