Today is my official move in day to a house in Loma Linda with my cousin and a friend. I’ve known since I took my job that eventually I’d move out on my own, but I just didn’t know when. My home with my family is only 15 minutes away from work, there’s no rent and I have all the comforts of a home that anyone could need. Despite all the reasons to stay, I have been anxiously awaiting my own place for years. I think it’s a great symbol of independence and since the rent is so cheap (split three ways), this opportunity was impossible to pass up.
I’m so excited to move in today and get situated but these past couple of days have been really hard on me. You see, growing up, I always had two homes. I had the my most cherished home in Montebello and then I had either an apartment/condo/townhome/house with my mom all over the LA country. My mom and I moved a lot but it was always an upgrade from the last, so I never minded. But since I left for college in 2007, my mom has realized that she doesn’t need a big place since I was only home for a couple months of the year. So she began to downsize and after I left my job in Newport Beach, she moved once again to Corona del Mar into a one bedroom/one bathroom place by the beach. In that process, whatever possessions remained in Newport were boxed up and sent over to my dad’s. There just wasn’t any space. And as I’ve been packing up ALL my things at my dad’s, I’ve had to go through over two decades worth of stuff and decide what was trash, giveaway (mostly this category), storage and for the new house. My room that I’ve occupied for almost exactly 6 years has been completely stripped.
No matter where my parents live, I know I’ll consider it “home” even if I’ve never lived there with them. It’s a pretty sad thought that neither of my two houses contain anything to call my own, but I guess that’s just how life is. We settle in and when we do decide to move on, it’s not about the possessions that make it your home … it’s the people you always come back to.
Wish me luck!