Sense of Face has been on vacation for the last month or so mostly because sitting down to write something is sometimes quite daunting when there are so many other things on the to do list, such as moving house (only a few miles), writing some articles and being a lazy bum.  When I get overwhelmed with tasks and events, Sense of Face is one of the first things to suffer, which I hate but am not sure how to fix.

That said, while I have not been writing, I have been thinking about what moving themed story I might share.  I don’t really have many moving stories, apart from stories about international migrations. However, having only moved approximately 4.1 miles to a new zip code and a shorter commute, I am hard pressed to draw any truly meaningful comparisons from my relatives’ journeys thousands of miles across the ocean.

One story about moving does find a counterpoint of sorts in my move, if only in the celebratory nature of having moved.  When my grandmother Dione was about 3, she and her parents moved to California from Cincinnati.  Her grandmother Ella and her uncle Stanley had already made the journey westward and were waiting for Dione, Rona and Charlie when their train pulled into the station in San Francisco.  My grandmother remembers being greeted by their singing, “California, Here I Come” over and over again on their arrival and I like to think the smile on her 3 year old face above shows the same joy that she might have exhibited then.

Dione, Ella Holzmann Brown (1882-1971) and Rona Brown Rose (1906-1991)