The Welsh Have A Word For It: Hiraeth

 Hiraeth describes me right now. It is Welsh and means ~ Yearning for a home you cannot return to, that no longer exists or maybe never was.

Growing up, when I needed touchstones, these were my three touchstones that always said to me home.

This was before "Disney" became the Death-Star of entertainment eating all in its wake.

The beach and waves. Preferably Santa Monica or Laguna during the day, and the dead spot on PCH between Santa Monica and Malibu at night where you hear the roar of the surf.

Plam Trees. The super tall skinny ones are "Canary Island Palms" planted almost 100 years ago for the 1932 LA Olympics. The slightly fatter and shorter ones are very very old Mexican Fan Palms.

These things still call to me (well, except Disney, I've kind of traded that in for UCLA), and they still mean "home" to me. But I can't go back, easily, to Los Angeles. Los Angeles has changed. I've changed.

But I will always hold these things in particular, and Los Angeles in general, as home. I still yell at the TV and make Ed back up shows so I can show him where it is in LA and when we visited. I still root for UCLA (when sports are playing). But home.. maybe not.

Now home is where my husband is, where my dog is and where my friends are. That causes a little cognitive dissonance everyone now and then, since many of my friends are in Los Angeles or England or Florida (okay only 1 in Florida) - but I guess that is the price you pay to grow up.

I pay the price gladly, but it has introduced a bit of hiraeth.