After seven years of calling Central California my home, my husband and I decided it was time for a big move.
In July 2017 the house my boyfriend and I lived in caught fire while I was visiting Boston.
When your car gets dinged in the parking lot, you’re going to wish you’d sprung for the apartment with the garage.
With three weeks’ notice, I packed up as many of my belongings as I could fit into my two suitcases and flew to Kathmandu.
Six months ago we discovered my grandmother had outlived her savings and could no longer afford to stay in her home.
It’s not easy to consider leaving a place you love, filled with people you love to boot.
It was the nicest adult daycare I could possibly check myself into.