Since arriving in California, I had been staying at Loma Linda Inn, a place that got a good recommendation from Dr. Sean Bush, a nephew of my friend and colleague Jim Bush. Jim had put me in contact with Sean—a guy I hope to meet while I'm out here. He's associated with LLUMC and is a world-class specialist in snake bites. Dr. Venom, I guess. Sounds like a really interesting guy.
Loma Linda Inn is a decent place with primary virtues of proximity to LLUMC and low cost. But the room was small and the situation oh-so-temporary, so I was glad to move into my place at Loma Linda Springs, a complex that advertises itself as Gracious Apartment living for people over 55. My apartment has 2 bedrooms—one that will serve as my office—is fully furnished, and comes with a garage, of all things. With luck and the blessings of the computer gods, I'll attach some pictures. The grounds are Southern-California beautiful, the staff is great, and the Springs hosts a weekly potluck dinner for prostate proton patients. It's about a mile from LLUMC.
Home away from home . . .
An important thing, home. I've known people whose families lived in the same village for centuries. I met a man and woman who said their home was on the sidewalk beside the library. I have a tat that includes words from Dillon's song "Rolling Stone"—No Direction Home. Some speak of dying as Going Home. Cross stitched mottos—Home Sweet Home. I read in the paper this morning that hundreds (thousands?) of victims of the New Orleans hurricane still don't have permanent homes. I've moved around enough in my life that I don't associate home with permanence. But home does speak to me of a certain kind of belonging, a certain level of sanctuary, a being at peace, a place where you don't have to be on your guard all the time. So it's nice to be in my new home away from home.
No comments:
Post a Comment