Missing Altadena

Missing Altadena

I took myself out to dinner on a Wednesday evening in July.

I walked there since i’m pet sitting in south Altadena.

I went to Prime Pizza. We used to order here a lot when we had family and friends over.

I decided to get a chopped salad and a diet coke. Not because I felt like I had to. But because I really like their chopped salad and it sounded good on a warm night.

I read and ate my salad and then decided to observe what was happening around me.

A mom sat with her two boys as they probed her with questions.

A dad sat with his son eating wings and pizza. The kid licked a cup.

I love kids.

Two men waited for their food.

A woman sipped her drink by herself at a table.

An older man and a younger fellow shared a large pizza. I wondered if they are father and son.

I watched the cars drive up Allen. I saw the Armen Market and the Firehouse preschool I used to drive past almost every day on my way to ballet after school.

I wondered how many people around me also lost their homes or were displaced.

As I sat-I got a really strong sense of miss.

I miss Altadena.

I miss seeing the mountains instead of concrete and cars.

I miss being in a quiet neighborhood where we don’t have to drive into an underground garage to park the car.

I miss my backyard. And being able to pick food from my dad’s garden.

I miss walking to the Altadena library.

Pasadena ones aren’t the same.

I miss walking to cafe de lèche

Blue Bottle isn’t the same.

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There are greater things to miss.

But I miss Altadena.

I miss home.