Miracles Do Happen...I'm Going Back to California!

If anyone has been reading this blog for some time, you might remember me talking about having this inner urge to go out west...but it's not just anywhere out west, I have a certain spot I need to visit. Or revisit.

You see, years ago, when I was seven, my aunt took a picture of my mother, sister and I in front of a sign at the California border. It read "Welcome to California." Well, for some unknown reason, I've had an inner calling to go back to that sign. I know this sounds crazy so maybe I can explain more clearly.

When I was seven, my whole world was a happy place. My mother had just married what was to be my step-father and we moved from the Eastern Shore of Virginia to Burbank, California. Actually, Fort Ord was where we were heading and Burbank came later.

It was the first time in my life that I had a perfect life with a mother and a father at the same time. My real father left me when I was a baby so not only was I going to California, but getting a daddy, also. I was elated.

We drove by car and it took us seven days to get there. I remember the car breaking down constantly, but we made it, and when we reached the border, we all got out to celebrate by having our picture taken in front of it. I was a monumental occasion and one I never thought I'd need to relive fifty years later.

When I was ten, the family broke up and I was forced to live with my grandmother back on the Eastern Shore. While I loved my grandmother with all my heart, it was hard not to be affected by the move. After all, my whole world had fallen apart.

I never thought much about going back; although, I would have given my right arm to do so, but it never took over my every thought, every desire, every part of my soul to want to return to the last place both my mother and I were the happiest.

Until the last few months when plans to return to that same spot were destroyed. BF forgot to get in touch with the people who were sending near there as a promotional thingee and they replaced us with someone else. Long story too depressing to talk about.

I'm not one to act like a baby over it, but I was clearly depressed that I wasn't going. I mean, don't offer me a candy bar and take it back.

Well, for the past three days, I've been sick. And when I've been sick, I get weepy and things that normally don't bother me, hit me like a ton of bricks. I hate the house. I hate the area. I want to move. I want a contract with a NY publisher. Little things. But, these little things were getting on my everloving nerves and was only making me sicker.

Tonight, I had a talk with a friend I know in Scotland. I call her M. M beeped in on IM wondering how I was. I told her fine, but not feeling well, and before I knew it, I was blurting out the whole California story.

M and I go way back. She's one of the contributors in Romancing the Soul and I've known her for a long time. She'd send me postcards from Scotland and we'd stay in touch over the Internet. I have never met this woman in person but I feel a strong kinship with her that is hard to explain. We even started writing a book together a few years ago, but as life would have it, she and I went off in different directions, fully intending on finishing the book.

But, I've never forgotten M. We've been there for each other several times and no matter what, we never argued or anything, but it wasn't until tonight did I realize how strong our friendship really was.

Tonight, I was telling her what was going on in my life and she was helping me through it, when I blurted out the California story. I fully believed that the reason I needed to go that bad was because that sign represented my mother who had died thirty years ago. "It's not about your mother," M said, "you need to go for another reason."

I wasn't sure what she meant by that but as she had been on the ball in diagnosing what was wrong with me and helping me through it, I thought maybe she was right.

Think about this. To get to the California sign, it took a tremendous amount of time and energy to do so and once we got there, we celebrated by taking the picture. It was like the end of the road had come and all was right. We had made it. No matter what had happened - the car breaking down, me puking on top of the table after my step-father forced me to drink milk, driving all that way in the heat and with four other people, and wham...we made it.

M seems to think I need to go back. I need to take that same road again, but why?

And this is where the miracle comes in.

Someone with whom I've never met is sending me back. Yes, you read that right. Someone with whom I've never met in person, that is, is sending me all the way from Virginia back to that California sign.

I'm not used to this.

I tried to argue with her, but she insisted. She said I need this to be happy and to be able to write books.

So, the deal is, we have to write a book about it. Together.

I'd say that's a fair exchange. ;o)

M, I know you aren't reading this, but you're in my thoughts tonight...this is what miracles are all about. People helping people. People just opening up their heart to make sure someone else achieves their dreams.

Wouldn't it be a nicer world if everyone was like that?

So, tonight I told my daughter, whose mouth dropped right off her face and BF, who is still scratching his head in wonder, that I am going back to California.

I am going back home.

Life is great.