Now that the holidays are almost over, this is the perfect time to pause and reflect on what has come before. On New Year’s Eve, hearing gunshots, I’m transported back to my childhood. My father would shoot his shotgun in the air, and when I was old enough, he placed the butt of the rifle in the crook of my shoulder and warned me to hold on tight when I squeezed the trigger. As I got older, December 31st was a night of partying, but now that I’m older still, it's a time of reflection - this year, more so than others. Since the pandemic, I have come to realize that no matter how much you plan and prepare, you’re not in control. The feeling of not being in control of your life can be frightening, but the reality is, I was never in control. I only thought I was. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t have plans or goals for your life. I’m saying life will get in the way of your plans, and in order not to lose hope, you must learn to pivot and readjust. I think we all know this, but these catastrophic events in our lives, like the Eaton fires, can make us forget that we have been through tough times before. Although the fires seem like the most devastating thing we have gone through, stop for a moment and think about what you have personally survived in your lifetime.
I grew up in South Central Los Angeles, which was a beautiful experience that I remember fondly; however, tragic moments were interwoven with those fond ones. Crack cocaine decimated families and neighborhoods, destroying the dreams of a generation. There was a time when carjacking and shooting someone for a pair of sneakers was almost a commonplace occurrence. Then the AIDS epidemic of 1981 occurred, and we watched people wither up and die. Some of us lost homes during the subprime mortgage crisis from 2007 to 2010. While others struggled to hold on to their homes, some capitalized on the moment and purchased investment properties.
The loss of my father in 2014, my mother in 2016, and my oldest brother in 2018 has left an indelible mark on my soul, shaping how I live my life now.
And then came the pandemic. The pandemic was mind-boggling for me. Never in my life could I imagine something like that happening. The collective fear of the world wrapped itself around me, and I saw it in everyone’s eyes as I ventured to the supermarket in search of toilet paper and water!
Now that I’m older, it takes more effort to fight the heaviness of a catastrophic event like the Eaton fires. Perhaps it is also because too much has happened too soon. Compiling losses on top of losses leaves one feeling weary, perhaps not knowing where or how to begin rebuilding. While all that is true, unfortunately, decisions are waiting to be made. The pressure of those decisions adds to the feeling of helplessness. If you are still stuck in this place, take a deep breath and slowly exhale.
Take the time you need and reflect on all that you have been through, not only this year but in your life. Take the time to marvel at how strong you are and how strong you were to have survived all the trauma that you have experienced thus far. Think about the courage it took to keep going when it would have been easier to give up. Carve out some time to care for yourself; make that a New Year’s Resolution. Maybe it will be one you can keep!
Try to be optimistic. I know that’s not an easy thing to do, especially for those who have lost a loved one in the fire. I was fortunate that my family was safe. I lost a house that I lived in for many years and considered it to be my home, even though I was not living there during the fires. My son, my daughter-in-love, and their two sons were living there on January 7, 2025. They lost everything except their lives, and for that I’m forever grateful. Had I lost my family or one member in the fire, I don’t know how someone telling me to be optimistic would feel. So, I want to express my profound sympathy. I know that your journey will be immeasurably more difficult than the one that I and others who didn’t lose someone will travel.
The reason I urge one to be optimistic is that therein lies hope. Hope allows one to dream of a better future. It enables you to believe that something better is possible. It motivates you to keep going even in your darkest hour. If we succumb to hopelessness, we will give up. Selling is not giving up. It’s saying that my time in Altadena is over, and it’s time to make new memories elsewhere. There’s a whole world out there - weigh your options and make the best decisions for you and your family. Whatever you decide to do, remain hopeful and keep dreaming.
One day, this will be a story you tell your grandkids or maybe even your great-grandkids. It will be a survival story for sure. Stay Altadena Strong, no matter what decision you make, whether that is to stay and rebuild or to sell and live a beautiful life elsewhere. The point is to live your best life.
I hope you’re feeling a little better. Here's one suggestion that helped me move out of the paralysis of fear I found myself in. I assigned myself one or two tasks (pertaining to the rebuild) to do each day. I would only work on the rebuild Monday through Friday. If I couldn’t bring myself to accomplish the task that day, I didn’t beat myself up about it. Instead, I vowed to do it the next day. Soon, instead of needing to work on something every day, it became once a week, and now it is as necessary. Looking at everything that needs to be done at once is overwhelming, so break it down into small segments. The thing is, once you have decided what it is you want to do, rebuild or sell, then you can take small steps each day to get to the finish line.
I want to wish you a Happy New Year and remind you that this, too, shall pass. Stay strong, stay Altadena Strong!
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