My only grandchild lives in Los Angeles.\u00a0 I live near San Francisco.\u00a0 It’s a 400 mile trip.\u00a0 I’ve checked flights and with travel to and from airports and renting a car when I get there, it’s easier to drive.\u00a0 I love this place where I live but I also love that little girl, so I drive a lot.<\/p>\n
From the time Caedan Ray was born, her mommy always said the same thing at the start of each visit.\u00a0 As I scooped up the baby, she’d ask,\u00a0“You got your Hammy?”\u00a0 After Caedan\u00a0learned to talk, when her mother asked the question, she answered with a big loud “Yes!”<\/p>\n
During my drive south on I-5, her parents and I stay in phone contact and they tell her, “Hammy’s almost here.”\u00a0 When I pull up in front, Caedan is waiting at the front door or outside,\u00a0standing with a parent by my\u00a0parking spot.\u00a0 As\u00a0soon as I’m out of the car, I hold out my arms.\u00a0 So far she chooses to jump up.<\/p>\n
At the end of each visit, after a sad goodbye, I head north toward home, already missing the little family.\u00a0 At my halfway point, Harris Ranch, I feel a hint of\u00a0“almost home.”\u00a0The horizon shifts on the last hour of the drive.\u00a0 Northern California skies always hold a promise for me.\u00a0 That’s\u00a0what I see when I look ahead.\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n
I live in Marin County,\u00a0in the redwoods.\u00a0 This is a place where the ratio of open space to developed land is astonishing and astonishingly beautiful.\u00a0 Is it foolish to love and need\u00a0specific surroundings so much?\u00a0 Or is it something we’ve earned at this time of life?<\/p>\n
During\u00a0the last hour of my drive, traffic picks up considerably as I merge with drivers heading home from San Francisco, coming off the Bay Bridge and through several interchanges.\u00a0 The skies shift again.\u00a0 It’s usually late afternoon when I make this part of the trip, and\u00a0fog rolls in.\u00a0 I love fog.\u00a0 It’s one of the reasons I live here.<\/p>\n
From the top of the\u00a0Richmond Bridge, I see ships alongside the dock.\u00a0Welcome home.\u00a0 The city shimmers in the distance.\u00a0 Welcome home.\u00a0 Here’s the Larkspur Ferry Terminal.\u00a0 A commuter ferry coasts to a stop as I pass.\u00a0\u00a0Welcome home. I approach my exit and see redwoods in the distance.\u00a0 It’s familiar and beautiful and it’s blue and green and peaceful here.<\/p>\n
But this homecoming is also teary.\u00a0 As I arrive at home, I’m thinking of the greeting I received from my granddaughter when I reached her door a few days ago.\u00a0 This time, she controlled everything.\u00a0 She didn’t wait for me to hold out my arms.\u00a0 Instead, as soon as I was out of the car, she leaped up and hugged me.\u00a0 She didn’t wait for her mommy to ask the usual question.\u00a0 Instead, she announced by herself for the first time, “I got my Hammy!”<\/p>\n
It’s good to be home and it’s sad to be home.\u00a0 This commute certainly isn’t getting any easier.<\/p>\n