3 July 2021 – Today, I visited a city I hadn’t been in for 47 years. In 1972, my dad was stationed at Norton AFB in San Bernardino, California. The base has since closed and is now San Bernardino International Airport, plus an industrial park that includes an Amazon distribution center. My dad had told me that while I was there, I had to go to two places. Place one was Valaria Drive, where my parents lived when I was born. The area they lived in looks like it hasn’t changed much, not that I would really know. The courtyard where they lived is still there. The pool in the courtyard is also still there. Amazing, fifty years later. The other place he told me to go was Orange Show Speedway. Orange Show Speedway is where I went to the racetrack for the first time when I was about six months old and many times after that. My parents spent almost every weekend at the track, so I was with them. The speedway is still there, and their new season starts July 17th.

It’s interesting when you look at your life and realize how much of your story you don’t know. My parents know and remember things about me and my life that I don’t even know. It’s pretty crazy to think someone knows things about you that no one else knows, not even you. My parents took care of everything and protected me so that I could grow up and make my own memories and my own life. They took care of me until I could take care of myself.

Now I am at a place in my life where no one is taking care of me except me. I’m not sure I like it, but that’s what it is. I’m glad I can do it, but I don’t necessarily like it. I could easily survive independently for the rest of my life, but I don’t want to. I look forward to being taken care of sometimes. When I need it when I want it, when I’m lost or falling apart, and most especially when I’m not even sure I need it or don’t realize I need it. But I am also at a point in life where I just can’t imagine anything new ever happening. I know that life won’t always be rosy, but that’s life. What I mean is that I don’t expect to discover anything new about myself. I just keep hitting myself in the head with the same lessons over and over again.

Today as I visited these special spots in San Bernardino, the actual place where I came from, tears came to my eyes, and I could not hold them back. There’s a Miranda Lambert song called “The House That Built Me,” and it is always nostalgic for me even though I have never actually been from anywhere. Like the song lyrics, I am trying to heal my brokenness and figure out who I am. Maybe today’s trip was another step in that direction.

"I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
This brokenness inside me might start healing
Out here it's like I'm someone else
I thought that maybe I could find myself"

The House That Built Me lyrics