“Be grateful for the home you have, knowing that at this moment, all you have is all you need.” ~~ Sarah Ban Breathnach
I’m tired of avoiding, or trying to minimize, where we live. I tend to say “the desert”, which it is, or “20 minutes south of the strip”, where we are. Yes, I’m embarrassed to admit to living in Las Vegas. I never even liked it when I was a kid and my parents would drag my sister and me to a long weekend vacation here. And yet, here we are. The business of life does not usually accommodate where you get to rest your head. Sure, I want to live in a small town like Fontanarosa, where my family comes from and where, I’m told, we still have relatives. But would I really be any happier? I moved here in 1999 to help take care of my grandfather who retired here around 1985. I met my wife in 2009. Online. A free dating site called “Plenty Of Fish” (probably because we were both too cheap to actually use a pay site). How romantic, right? But if I hadn’t moved here, think of all I would have missed. These have been the happiest days, weeks, months, years of my life so far. (OK, maybe a slight exaggeration but chances are she’ll read this one day!) What would I have been, where would I have been, if not for Las Vegas? No we don’t live in Las Vegas. We live on the outskirts where we “occupy the southern rim of the Las Vegas Valley stretching west of Boulder Highway to just east of Interstate 15. Features include … access to the Colorado River, Lake Mead and Sloan Canyon National Conservation area, along with Black Mountain River and McCullough Mountains.” But I work in Las Vegas. In an industry unrelated to hotels and gambling and restaurants. Yes, we are just like any other suburb of any other city. And this week we celebrated our second wedding anniversary. And this year my grandfather will be 92! And maybe next year I’ll be able to rid myself of this damn insecurity.