Home was always a fuzzy concept for me, with all the moves I have made in my life I never really had a ‘home’ in the traditional sense. The family that raised me changed with every move so even that rarely stayed constant enough to provide something stable in an ever-changing life.

Now home is with my wife, home is not a state or a house; home is with the girl I love and by some crazy luck the girl who loves me back. That is home now and thankfully it will always be home.

However, home before her was California. Most of my moving around ended me up in California and although I never got the beach experience that most Californians get by growing up along the coast, I do have very fond memories of the beach.

The waves crashing into the sand, the feeling of it between your toes, the sun beaming on your skin leaving you just a touch warmer than you really want to be, I can almost taste the saltwater.

The ocean was always home for me, some of my fondest memories were alone on the beach, walking by the water and playing in the sand. I would spend all day on the beach; not talking to anyone but the waves who would talk back; you just have to listen.

How I’ve missed the water, the sights and sounds.

But thankfully it is always there, in all the things that change in my life, the people who have come in and the people who have left, the water, the beach will always be there for me.

My wife loves the water as much as I do; some of her best memories were at the beach. She has shown me the beach she grew up on and now I get to return the favor.

I get to take her to ‘my’ beach.

The place I would go when I wanted to be alone, the place where I went when I wanted to feel like I had a home. It will be bittersweet seeing it again, not because I miss those days, far from it. But because it took me so long to find a real home that I needed something immutable to be in my life.

Now I get to share my old home, with my wife.

Because without her, it would just be a beach…

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