On the days I don’t back road it into work, I take a short section of I-10. 8 and 10 divide within a mile there. “San Diego” is posted on the I-8. I think, “Someday I’ll just hang left.” but the moment passes, and my mind refocuses on the now, a sweetly sad nostalgia soon fades. “Home” shall never be again as we remember it dear brother. Your journey and prose saved me the time, expense, and inevitable psychic turmoil.