Chasing Waves and Memories: Finding Home Away from Home
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Hey my fellow souls! My new book is live - Many Lives, One Soul: My Journey to Becoming Whole
Marc Tagliaferri
September 19, 2023
As I sit here....
As I sit here....
As I sit here, thousands of miles from where my heart was born, I can’t help but feel a pang of homesickness. It’s an ache that resonates deep within my soul, a yearning for the familiar sights, sounds, and scents of the place I used to call home – Santa Monica.
You see, I’m a sun child through and through. The ocean, with its endless horizon and soothing waves, has always held a special place in my heart. It’s where I found solace, where I felt most alive, and where my spirit soared. But now, I find myself in a new home, far away from the ocean’s embrace.
My new abode in Angola is a place of its own charm and character. It has an uncanny resemblance to a spot I hold dear from back home – Knott’s Berry Farm. But no matter how much I grow to love this new place, there’s no denying that I miss the ocean, the salty breeze that kissed my cheeks on early mornings in Santa Monica.
Growing up in Santa Monica was a gift I cherish to this day. The beach was my backyard, a place where endless adventures awaited. I would rise with the sun, eager to greet the day with the smell of salt in the air. It was a scent that felt like home, like a warm embrace from the sea.
The Santa Monica Pier and the bustling boardwalk were my playgrounds. I have vivid memories of sipping ice-cold lemonade from the same stand by the pier, the tangy sweetness a taste of pure nostalgia. Nearby, I would watch intense chess games played by eccentric characters who added a touch of magic to my childhood.
But the real thrill for me was body surfing. Oh, how I lived for those waves! There’s an exhilaration in riding the ocean’s rhythm, in feeling the power of nature beneath you. Those were the days when we’d compete to see who could catch the biggest wave or ride it the furthest.
And then there were the sand football games, where friends turned into teammates and rivals in a heartbeat. The salty, gritty feel of the sand between my toes was a sensation I craved. It was like a badge of honor, proof of a day well spent on the beach.
Santa Monica Boulevard was the spine of my upbringing. The boulevard was filled with memories, from casual strolls to daring skate rides. The beach, my sanctuary, was just a straight walk, bike ride, or skate away. I’d watch the city transform as I glided along its familiar path.
Even the bus rides were an adventure. The unpredictable encounters with fellow passengers, the scenic route that showcased the beauty of my hometown, and the feeling of being part of a vibrant community – all of it etched into my heart.
Some of my fondest memories, however, were forged during hell week at Santa Monica High School. It was a rite of passage, a test of endurance, and a bonding experience like no other. We faced the grueling challenges with a mix of determination and camaraderie, forging friendships that would last a lifetime.
The Santa Monica Mall was another cherished spot. It was a place where I would spend my free time exploring shops, people-watching, and enjoying ice cream cones on lazy afternoons. And no matter where I was the beach was never too far, a constant reminder of the beauty that surrounded me.
Now, as I find myself in Angola, I can’t help but feel a sense of longing for those familiar places, those cherished moments. It’s like trying to recapture the magic of childhood, to hold onto a piece of the past.
But here’s the thing – as much as I miss Santa Monica and the ocean that defined my youth, I’ve come to appreciate the beauty of my new home. Angola may be different, but it has its own allure, its own secrets waiting to be discovered. And like Santa Monica, it has a way of making me feel welcome, of reminding me that home is where the heart is.
So, while I may yearn for the waves of Santa Monica, I also find joy in the waves of change that brought me here. Life is an ever-evolving journey, and each place we call home leaves an indelible mark on our souls.
And who knows? Maybe one day, I’ll find a spot again by the ocean that captures my heart, just as Santa Monica did all those years ago. After all, the ocean has a way of weaving its magic into the fabric of our lives, no matter where we roam.
Until then, I’ll hold onto my memories of Santa Monica, like precious seashells gathered along the shore, and carry them with me as I continue to explore the beautiful, unpredictable tapestry of life.
Thank you for your time. Blessed be, God Bless, and Peace. Deuces!
"Stay blessed, stay true to yourself, and always remember, you’re never alone on this incredible journey. Wishing you an abundance of peace, love, and an overflow of good vibes until our paths cross again. Thanks for being a part of this adventure with me. Until next time, Deuces!"
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