I have been putting a lot of pressure on myself, feeling like this post should be epic, an explosive expression of my feelings and the unparalleled beauty of this country I now call home. But, the words are pale and fall from my fingertips in stutters. It seems that writing about joy is not in my wheel house; I have connected with the words that accompany tragedy for so long, I sometimes fear that I am only half a writer. But, life is also filled with vibrancy, and I want to write about all the shades of life, not just the dark shades; I hope even a fraction of the colours of my new home come through.

I have learned a lot about silver linings this year, about what is meaningful and what can been seen through the deepest darkness. The year began, for me, with unyielding physical pain that increased with the months, and then the world was thrust into battle with a virus that continues to run rampant. I stopped sleeping, I started eating more cake and drinking more wine. I became unrecognizable. I was quietly turning old before my time.

But, coins have two sides and one of them is always shinier than the other. Despite the pain and the virus and the weight, life long dreams came true. My book, “Things My Mother Left Behind”, was published by Potter’s Grove Press, and Joe and I moved to a place I have dreamed of living my whole life, even though I had never been here. I feel so incredibly lucky, and true to my nature, I also feel guilty for my good fortune. Perhaps I am a coin as well, always moving back and forth between the two sides of my own heart, never still, never in rhythm.

The story of our move begins with what I am more comfortable writing about, with drama, with shadows. It begins with a villain, a human vulture who bought our apartment building in Los Angeles and began to dismantle it the day he signed the deed……….