I was born in a US Army hospital in Germany. We stayed in Germany for 2 years until my father transferred to California, the Bay Area, where he was from. He was born in a US Naval hospital in Tennessee a year and a half earlier when his father transferred to Lemore, California, leaving us only 2 hours apart. We continued to follow each other around as we grew up. The next move would be to Oregon.
My dad transferred to Louisiana when I was 8. I remember that day so clearly, watching the sun come up over the mountain. I didn't want to leave, yet what could a little kid do? Soon afterwards, his family moved back to  San Diego,California. We stayed down south for two years when he was transferred again to California. We stopped through San Diego, and it felt like I belonged there. I begged my father to stay, but nope, his job was in Monterey.
It would be another 8 years before destiny would intervene and I would move to San Diego. My son and I moved to my parents in El Cajon. I started working at Burger King as an opener and working as a cashier. I decided to pick up a second job at Rally's, right down the street where I lived. Patrick would frequent both places often, but we always seem to miss each other about 30 minutes in-between shifts.