My mountain top

I’m not going to write about Lou Reed.
I went to California on a very short visit to see my parents, and my sister and her family.
Here is what I learned.  That I am too old to make quick trips that cross time zones.
I came back feeling like I had mono, which I did about 26 years ago, right around this time. Something I don’t like to dwell on because It was an awful time, both in illness and general life experiences.
Jacob, and Eve and I went, this was her first time on an airplane, and to the west coast.  That was lovely, to be able to see  the world of Los Angeles and all of it’s light and dark, with new eyes.  It was actually helpful, in that I’ve had a hard time there in the past.  Not so this trip. 
There is so much there.  It’s endless, and that I think is the kernel that I’ve not been able to easily define before. 
That, because of the enormity and availability of everything, I feel lost in the numbers, invisible, though in some strange way, more of myself then most places.  It’s a complicated endeavor, visiting the folks and their territory.  But each time, I feel a little more at ease, and a little more of me.