How people change - April 5-8

It is interesting to witness the endless cycle that is time, the transition from childhood to adulthood is inevitable and the struggles created during these times of change is felt by everyone at some point, no matter place in life.

Looking back on my life I have noticed that years have become intertwined in memory and in this melding of days and months time has slowed, causing me a disconnect between reality and recollection. The friends I remember have become different people, adjusting to a new life, new responsibilities and new and larger expectations. What was once concern over place in high school pecking order now is concern over holding down a job; the concern over how to pay for a beer has become concern over how to cover a mortgage.

While there is a price to pay for living in San Diego's oceanic climate the monetary struggle created from houses so exorbitantly priced is offset by the physical and mental gains of a perpetual sun, and it is under these sunny skies of Southern California that three of my good High School friends, Tim and his wife Kyle, as well as Dan, have made their homes.

Tim was one of my basketball buddies - though, truth be told, he was more the guy who swatted me time and time again as I struggled to play a sport that emphasized hands over feet - and a good friend since our freshman year and Kyle was a transfer to Bishop Blanchet from West Seattle her senior year, a transition made easier by her looks and athleticism as she was the girl that caused more than one head to turn within our tight knit group. I have known Dan since middle school and his gregarious personality is much better suited to the sunny skies of San Diego than the gray ones of Seattle and his sales ability has made the transition an easy one.

As I drove south along the highways into San Diego, memories of summer soccer tournaments flooded my mind and I realized that even though Tim and Kyle had called this bastion of beauty home for close to a decade, I had only visited them when saddled with the care of 18 high school aged soccer players. I realized that I had never taken the time to understand and see why people paid so much to call San Diego home or why Dan choose to move down 5 years earlier.

Exiting off of the 8 into their neighborhood I was greeted with rows of small local businesses that fronted the main drive. A turn left led me down a lane of iconic little houses, all immaculately gardened and landscaped. Tim and Kyle's home was a beautiful tan stucco house nestled in amongst the trees and flowers, its feigned fortress roofing feeling more homey that guarded. The house's Mexican styling, swirls etched deep into the stucco, provide a distinctive flair yet suited the neighborhood well.

It turns out that Tim and Kyle's acceptance into the neighborhood was swift as their beautiful home was adorned for 30 years with cheap vinyl siding more suited for cookie cutter suburban neighborhoods than here in Kensington. Their decision to tear it off upon moving in elicited a ruckus of cheers from the entire neighborhood and endeared them to the locals.

The timing of my visit was poor since Tim and Kyle were already hosting Tim's mom and sister, in town to see the couple's first born, a beautifully chubby one year old named Ciarra. Thankfully Bessie provided a comfortable bed and my hosts and their company were gracious, making me feel like a part of the family by including me in all of the family outings and allowing me - perhaps mandating - to shower and share in the cooking duties.

I was impressed to see the level of landscaping throughout the entire neighborhood, every home was well kept. Though the seemingly requisite Mexican gardeners came by weekly, it turns out Tim and Kyle's garden was immaculate thanks to the gusto of Tim, an odd personality quirk I thought, as flowers were usually things he forgot about, even when needed for a high school dance.

Changes in personality are one of the biggest surprises in life, the biggest perhaps is watching how new parents interact and respond to their children and embrace the roles that are necessitated from taking care of a life one has created. Tim was never thought of as one who craved fatherhood, his tough guy exterior was always visible, but, as it turns out with many tough guys, give him a child and you will find a teddy bear, great with kids and house work alike. Kyle was perhaps the catharsis for parenthood, her motherly instincts always came out any time all of us would get drunk together and any of us needed taking care of.

I know Kyle, a 6' ex-University of Idaho volleyball player, will be happy with whatever sport Ciarra chooses but 6' 2" Tim worries every time he witnesses Ciarra dancing to the repetitive music so loved by one year olds and so often lamented by parents that basketball is in her near future as she pivots really well on her right leg. Though he loves watching basketball, the thought of sitting on the sidelines watching a girls game distresses him as he fears that a slower pace and his own inability to keep his mouth shut will bring out his desire to live vicariously.

Dan was always thought of as the domestic type; his cooking abilities were showcased early, the pinnacle for me being the watermelon he carved into a fruit basket. He brought his three year old son, a half Mexican and half American combination that gives high fives on command over to Tim and Kyle's house for introductions. Dan's biggest lamentation is that his son doesn't look a thing like him as his Mexican heritage is readily apparent, but he misses that his son's body type and body language creates a mini Dan, albeit one with black hair.

Being around friends again was truly a blessing; to see these guys and their families, how much they have grown and changed, yet remained true to themselves and their ideals, reminded me how important it is to stay connected. Connection is something I have lost somewhere along the way over the past few years and is something I am hoping to find again in my travels. The reminder of San Diego helps to bridge the gap.