I am an extrovert, an optimist, an academic, a scholar, a professor, a glorified nerd, an author, a vegan, an amateur photographer, happy, a liberal, a lover of life, an advocate for equality, an advocate for animals, an admirable Scrabble opponent, an InstaGramer, adventurous, sarcastic at times, an iPad addict, a wannabe yogi, a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a friend, and a sufferer of chronic pain.
I love coffee, walking along the ocean, good conversation, my family, my friends, my two rescue cats, taking pictures, exploring the world around me, learning new things, road trips, traveling, animals, to laugh, having new experiences, yoga, cupcakes, yummy vegan food, Thai food, sushi, Cafe Gratitude, concerts, the ocean, sea creatures, celebrating taco Tuesday, meeting new people, having new experiences, and life.
I am happiness. I am sunshine. I am love.
Being Sarah
Just before my accident last year, my mom sold my childhood home with the intention of applying for a new job in California near one of her oldest and dearest friends. However, after my accident my mom could not bear to live far away from me. She decided to stay for as long as I need her and move after my injuries were better.
While I am still hurting, I do not need my mom’s assistance nearly as often. For that reason, she decided to start applying for a new job somewhere in northern California. Mere weeks after she began to apply, she was offered a job in Santa Cruz and gladly accepted.
Over the last few weeks, I have been hearing her stress over packing, moving, and starting over. Even though she postponed for about a year, it still seemed to all happen so quickly.
Since my mom moves on Wednesday, I decided to spend the weekend at home with her. I helped her pack the best I could given my injuries and spent the weekend bidding farewell to my home town. After 25 years in Arizona, and 18+ spent in Globe, it felt a little odd bidding farewell to a place I knew so well.
As I traveled the roads from my current home in Northern Arizona through Phoenix then to Globe, I reminisced about my life in my home town. At times, living there was fun. However, as I matured, I quickly outgrew the town. I was a big fish in a small pond and had a distaste for that experience. I was ready for big ponds, if not expansive oceans, when I hit my teens. However, that doesn’t stop my from having fond memories of the place.
As I drove through the hills between Phoenix and Globe the setting sun lit up the hills and hovering clouds. It was absolutely spectacular. In that moment, I felt sorrow for having to bid farewell to such a beautiful place. Then… it happened. I drove into Globe/Miami and the beautiful sunlit hills turned into decrepit houses and businesses. Most of these were abandoned or looked to be that way. The beautiful calm of the hills turned into people yelling “you little bitch get back here” to their children, a hoard of people with missing teeth and not enough sense/education to speak proper English (“you ain’t gonna get no nothing if y’all don’t listen to ya momma”), and a woman standing on the corner of a street wearing nothing but a sweater that barely covered her lady parts. To say the least, my delusions were rapidly crushed as I was reminded what the town was really like.
People used to say that Globe is where hope goes to die. After evaluating the situation, they might actually be right.
As I drove out of town yesterday, I said goodbye to all of my favorite (and not-so-favorite) places, people, and memories. I replayed all of the fond memories of my time there and spent time mentally boxing up the bad ones. I normally have a hard time saying goodbye, but spending the weekend remembering what Globe was to me while I was going up and contrasting what it is in the present make it very easy to bid a joyous farewell, say goodbye to everything for the last time, and become unbelievably excited about never experiencing it again.
Goodbye, Globe. It’s been real. See you never.
