L.A., I Love You

To my friend, The City of Angels.

Standing at the edge of the continent, looking north along the coastline of Los Angeles County. Credit: Pgiam

If a place could be a person, Los Angeles is my toughest friend. She made few assurances when I arrived as a naïve and determined 22-year-old, but bit by bit she taught me how to build a life from scratch.

“You, too, can thrive amidst the harshest landscape,” she said as she pointed out the beauty of bougainvillea blooming brightly amidst trash and dust alongside the 110 Freeway. And so I did.

After nearly a dozen years with her, I am forever changed. No matter where I am in the world, I always calculate the current time in Los Angeles.

I suppose this is why today’s news hurts so much. Those are not images of some faraway city. No, Los Angeles feels more like an extension of me – a family member or friend, perhaps.

For me, the evacuation map is more than a shaded image lined with boulevards and avenues. No, those were my routes to work and to church and to countless evenings settled in on the couches of friends. Those roads meandering north of Sunset Blvd. served as a sanctuary for me as I drove and talked to God while the wind whipped through my sunroof, allowing the perfume of eucalyptus trees to cling to my hair.

When I look at the strip of coastline currently blotted a deep crimson because of roads closed by the fires, I see where I routinely welcomed a new January by looking west over the ocean with all my problems at my back. And those businesses perched precariously below a blazing hillside aren’t just a string of shops to me. These are places where I celebrated birthdays, unwound with colleagues over happy hour drinks, and comforted friends as they endured life’s bumps.

More than anything, I see images of Los Angeles and remember all the miracles I was so fortunate to witness thanks to her. The miracle of landing dream jobs. The miracle of finding so many dear people amidst that vast place who would go on to become lifelong friends. That quiet miracle of spotting the sea as you hit the crest of Ocean Park Blvd. The miracle of growing in spite of myself.

And so today I pray it will be my friend Los Angeles who witnesses miracles. The miracle of a change in wind. The miracle of water untapped. The miracle of a stranger’s kindness. The miracle of life.

My heart is so heavy for you, Los Angeles. May many care for you as you have cared for us.