Coronado

 
My mom and I drove out to Coronado today to take in the annual Christmas Parade. Even if I had a fine camera, there is no place to stop on the bridge to capture the spectacular view of the historic Hotel Del outlined in lights, or the deep pink of the sky as it neared sunset, or the reflection of the skyline and the boats on the water. So I will let this postcard image tell the story. I have more spirit this year than I have felt in years--it's magical. I took pics tonight of the parade and will post those later in the week. My mom and I browsed cute shops, oohing and aahing over trinkets. Then we walked to the Hotel to see their famous indoor decorated tree, and the outdoor skating rink. Gosh, if only the walls could talk--think of all the interesting people that have passed through those halls. Coronado holds a special soft spot in my heart, because so much of my childhood lives there. My parents met at Coronado high, and married while still teenagers. My brothers were ushers at the adorable Presbyterian church that looks like a little Victorian house. Both sets of grandparents lived on the same street. I used to rollerskate (as in four wheels) around the block then stop at the little mom-and-pop market (now it's a bank) to buy penny candy like pixi-stix. I would play in my grandparents'(my mom's parents) attic. Their house was a wonder--it had a lath house, a fish pond, a wishing well, and a big clothesline that I used for swinging. After they passed away, it took me ten years to be able to return to Coronado. Later I drove by their old house, only to see that it had become a parking lot. I sat in my car and cried. I guess I thought pieces of my past would last forever, and it was devastating to behold the changes. Now I try to take in the positives. It has been more than 30 years since they passed, and not a day goes by that I don't think about them and miss them. My grandpa used to ride a bike all over Coronado. My dad's mom had stories about tent city. So much history! Hanging from my rear view mirror now, are charm-sized bronze shoes--momentos of track meets when my dad pole-vaulted for Coronado High in the 1930's. I treasure them. And I treasure this gem of a city.