EXODUS FROM HADES

It was December 2005. After a two-month stay, I realized moving back to Albuquerque was not in the cards and returned to the "golden state" where parents, brother, and son still lived. Moved into a small apartment complex, in a Jewish community, behind a popular eating establishment, around the corner from a retirement center where my parents resided, and across the street from church. The apartment was a small studio with very few amenities, no air, no heat, but utilities were paid. Rather pricey so I thought after having lived in a furnished studio with air, heat and all utilities paid for approximately $300 less. However, it was only to be a temporary stay. Luckily Long Beach wasn't freezing all winter or sizzling hot all summer but there were some miserable moments.

When it was cold, it was cold and even with a ceramic heater, turning on the oven, and wearing thermals, socks, slippers and heavy robes or jackets still kept the chills inside the body and the nails a purplish blue. Going somewhere even if just standing outside in the sun brought a warmth of relief.

Now when it was hot...I was in the netherworld. That was pure torture. Drinking ice water, wrapping frigid wet cloths around the neck, sitting in front of a full-blown fan, and walking around with minimal attire didn't do much to relieve the constant stickiness and headaches. At times wondered why I took a cold shower--within minutes I was all hot and sticky again. Sometimes there was a comfortable breeze by opening the front door and the bathroom window; however, when the scent of cigarette smoke hit my nostrils, it was a world-record dash to shut the front door. As long as the temperature outside didn't go pass the 80 degree mark, it was tolerable but those weeks the gauge hit the 90 degree mark and higher, comfort had to be found in air-conditioned facilities, which usually meant the corner library, visiting my parents or across the street at church. It was soon learned that chocolate of any kind could not be kept out for very long--it would start melting within a matter of minutes.

My studio had been part of what used to be the third bedroom next door which explained why the corresponding wall was so paper thin, and I could hear everything from loud music, television, and the neighbor making out with his girlfriend. The complex lacked professional management and rules and regulations were not strictly enforced. Children running around and screaming even in front of my door made it feel like I was smack dab in the middle of recess or a day care facility. But all in all, I guess it was better than being homeless.

When I got my great job last December, there would be a 22-mile commute. It wasn't the ideal situation, but I continued the journey for seven months and actually learned how to become more patient along the way. Unfortunately, the gas prices reached the ridiculous stage and thought it wise to consider relocating. Could have done it long ago, but being across the street from church and close to my parents and friends made it a difficult transition to contemplate.

My mom had become disenchanted with living in a retirement facility environment and wanted to get back to the "real world" once again. Think Dad would rather stay, mainly because of the food; however, they both always wanted me to leave that "hell hole" and thought I deserved better. So after some discussion, it seemed logical to just rent something together, at least temporarily, and I would be there to offer some assistance. So, we rented a nice two-bedroom apartment in Orange County just three miles away from work. The apartment complex is in close proximity to the hospital, medical offices, shopping centers, and the all important (at least in Dad's opinion) eating establishments.

At this stage of the game, it's not easy living with your parents again and Mom and Dad could say the same thing about their daughter. Of course, there is an adjustment for each of us but for now, this is life as I know it.

You know, I somewhat understand how the children of Israel must have felt when they left Egypt and reached the promised land. It has air conditioning. It has heat. It is comfortable and relatively quiet. It has a short commute to work. It has numerous places that can be reached by foot. Yes, this is my land flowing with milk and honey.