After being uprooted from my lakeside apartment in Oakland Park, Florida, in February 2013, moving three times, with the last one being to Atlanta with my daughter, I am finally back in my beloved South Florida.
On the road home. When I crossed the state line from Georgia to Florida, something magical happened!
Now, that I’m back I know why I missed Florida so much.
First, there is the beach! The Atlantic Ocean was calling to me in Atlanta and I could not wait to get there. So, my first morning back, I got in my car, emptied of its cargo into the tiny bedroom given me by my generous brother. I drove over the Intercoastal to Palm Beach and immediately, I was caught up by the sea, sand, and sky. The beautiful clouds beckoned me to the seashore but I was not to be distracted by this dreamy moment because I was destined to arrived at the place where my second reason for moving back to Florida was.
For almost 2 years, while living in Atlanta, I only saw my Dad (96) three times. I spoke with him almost every day. But this was not enough. I needed to see, touch, hug, and kiss my Dad.
Although he’s 96, he is alert, mindful, and reminiscent of decades gone by. He always asked me where I was, what I was doing, and how I was feeling. He always tells me to take good care of myself. Truthfully, it is my father’s counsel that has kept me from ever being depressed.
Upon returning to South Florida, I am able to visit him two or three times a week, now. This is such a blessing and I am ever grateful for having the ability to make this choice to return.
The thir
d reason that I’m so happy to be back home is seeing so many of my friends. Lisa invited me to a luncheon with women the first Saturday I was home. I drove to Hallandale and really enjoyed meeting these progressive women.
Words We Speak 