memories of San Francisco


45.

This prompt is loaded with an assumption that I want to talk about my married years that have already occurred. I really don't feel like reminiscing on that period of my life just yet. But, in the interest of posterity, I will share a memory.

It was over a decade ago and we were headed to San Francisco. I grew up loving that city. My parents took my brothers and me on a family trip there. That's when I fell in love with riding trolleys and looking out across the bay to the Golden Gate Bridge. Trips to San Francisco for a couple of choir competitions in high school sealed the deal though. There is nothing quite like being set loose with a handful of great friends in an amazing place. My only regret from my high school trips is that I didn't kiss anyone in San Francisco. I guess that might be why I still needed to go back.

We went for a three-day weekend. First thing off the plane and in the hotel room was unmentionable, then we hit up Chinatown for some delicious lunch, choosing the most randomly authentic looking Chinese restaurant we could find. And it was perfection. By the time we finished eating, it was raining, but that didn't stop us from our exploration. We walked all over the place, heading to Fisherman's Wharf and the beach, and then at nightfall, we were crossing the Golden Gate Bridge on foot. I did not account for the rocking, and it freaked me out! We were almost halfway across when I realized how far up I was, over the ocean, on a manmade contraption, and my little children were at home, far away, without their mother. And to top it all off—it was windy. I became frozen with fear that I would fall somehow and became irrational. I was crying and so upset that he had to hold me really close and walk me back to firm ground. Just thinking about it now makes me feel like a big baby, but whatever. We caught a trolley back to downtown and found a hole in the wall pizza place that had the best New York style pizza I've ever had. When I ordered a slice of plain cheese, they handed me a fourth of a pizza on a plate. Good thing I was hungry, because I would have eaten it all even if I hadn't been so hungry.

So anyways. It was a fantastic trip, and I will admit it wasn't too painful to think about it all. I do hope to go back to San Francisco under new circumstances some day. My only regrets now for San Francisco are that I haven't been to the opera and Alcatraz. And I might even try walking across the bridge but only in broad daylight.




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