女儿离家工作已经一年五个月了，中间没有回来过，说是要在那座城市里待满整整一年，体会它的春夏秋冬，每一个季节，每一个节假日。转眼一年多了，她计划圣诞节回家。记得一次她电话里跟我说，妈妈，你能想象吗？我都离开一年半了。当时，我脑子里飞快地计算着，还煞有其事地纠正她说，一年半还没有到。那一刻，她啧的一声，其反应让我觉得自己那么不解风情，不懂人家的相思之苦。
终于圣诞节快到了，去机场接她的那天，飞机倒是提前20多分钟到了。可是因为地面通勤失调，飞机排队等出口，我就在机场转了一圈又一圈， 足足等了40多分钟，等得我心急火燎。终于，女儿的身影出现了。西雅图的雨水把女儿滋润得白净温润了。三个多月不见，女儿变漂亮了。真是一方水土养一方人。
今年的圣诞、新年中间就隔几个工作日，如果连起来休假很划算。遂问她要不要全家出去玩？人家答道，哪里也不想去，就想待在家里。 想起两三年前读大学放假回来，我母亲微信问她，”在家做些什么？”人家答：”睡觉、吃妈妈做的饭菜”， 把母亲逗得直乐。可她说得是大实话，老祖宗的”家”字不就是房子下面一头猪吗？在她眼里，家或许就是吃、睡、放松的地方。
“吃妈妈做的饭菜”这句话从此一直记在我的心里。所以, 每次她一回家，老妈就会乐颠颠地忙前忙后，尽其所能，做一大堆好吃的，大有”抓住她的胃抓住她的心”之嫌。这次当然不会例外， 加上又是节假日，外面到处张灯结彩。晚饭后，一家人又赶在商店打烊前东晃晃西晃晃，带着她旧地重游，让她重新领略城市的夜景、风貌、体会着这座城市的节奏。
因着她念念不忘洛杉矶，我们在周二圣诞节那天，一家人驱车去了洛杉矶。虽然，那天商店、博物馆都关门了，然而通往Griffith Park的车辆还是络绎不绝。当我们像蜗牛似的，跟着车队到了山顶，发现山顶根本没有泊车位，只好又下车，泊在平地处，再回转身朝着有Hollywood这几个标志性大字的山顶攀登。
十二月的南加依然阳光灿烂，气温六七十度上下, 温暖和煦。美中不足的是, 那日山风很大，时不时卷起久旱山坡上的尘土。走在这样的山路上，不由得想起九月初华盛顿州的Mt.Rainer之行，真是不可同日而语。记得那日女儿是打头阵的，今日的她为何步履蹒跚？我慢下脚步，等她赶上，一边问她，“跟雷尼尔山比，这山是不是太荒芜了，没劲？是不是人太疲倦？爬不动了？” 不料，人家轻松地说，“不能这样比，It’s just different. 我要慢慢爬、细细看。”
“看什么？”，我望着这荒芜的山顶，不确定地问道。她伸出手转过身来，指了指，说: “山下城市的风景啊！”
“哦，那倒是百看不厌的。” 我回答道。望着这座有多少人趋之若鹜的城市，密密麻麻的建筑、几栋高耸入云的摩天大楼，近处圆顶的天文台，远处泛着波光的海面，我想我们是幸运的，不需行走太远，就能感受这座动感的城市， 这个很多人的梦想之地。
下山的途中，女儿兴致勃勃地聊起她的工作、同事、那座城市给予她的印象，说起同事对加州的争议，说起自己那日去看高中老师，老师问她，喜不喜欢西雅图， 她答道， “I am fine, but my heart belongs to California.”
“我的心属于加州。”还有什么比这句话更有份量的。我曾经的疑惑顿时烟消云散。是啊，这里是她的家，一个她成长的地方。她怎么可能忘了呢？
再过几天女儿就要回去了，伴随着她的离去，我们也要告别2018。2018年记载着我们两次的西雅图之行, 而女儿岁末的回家之旅又給2018年画上了一个圆满的句号，赋予了相聚和离别不同的体验和意义。
期待2019的到来！
An hour’s hike took us to the summit of Mount Hollywood, where we have a breathtaking 360-degree view of LA county beneath. The iconic HOLLYWOOD sign nearby stands bigger, while the Griffith Observatory’s dark-brown domes look smaller in the distant. The mountain tops not far are barren, lifeless, and solemn- looking. But afar on the other side lie the lively cities, clustered together, with a few sky-rise buildings erected out of the city skyline. Dotted among them are some red-colored or purple-colored buildings, probably UCLA campus or some famed architectures. At the end of the horizon is a seemingly narrow stretch, whitish and gleaming in the sun. That is Pacific Ocean, hazed a little on the border and then met by the blue sky, on which patches of white clouds roam freely.
The sun was shining brightly, basking everything in its warmth. However, it was marred by the strong gust of wind，stirring not just the hair, the jacket, and the dust from the road surface, but the mood to pose for the good pictures. At that moment, the word “headwind” popped up in my mind. What would we do if we are faced with the strong headwind like this in life? Do we have to bend ourselves down to survive?
We did not stay there for long before heading downhill. The wind died down on the way, and we chatted at ease. My daughter talked about Seattle weather, where the wind storm could reach to 60 miles per hour, as well as the short daylight in winter when the dawn breaks around 7:40 am, and the dusk falls around 3:30 pm. She then told us stories about her coworkers, who once jokingly sneered at her, to choose to live in gloomy and cold Seattle. She proudly proved to them that a girl from California could just survive the harsh winter like the local people without crying for home. She ended her story with what she told her favorite High School teacher on her last week visit that she is fine living in Seattle, but her heart belongs to California.
I have never been very sure of her feeling towards California, when she chose to work out of state, and enjoyed her solitary stay there without complaint. Now hearing this coming out of her mouth assured me that in her innermost heart, she knows she is bond with the place she was raised, a place full of her fond memories, a place where she calls home. It is an origin that powers her forward.
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