When I first transplanted from New York out West, I lived in Southern California. My mom would often remind me to visit with Uncle Harold and Aunt Lilly, my great-aunt and great-uncle. I had never met them. They lived in San Leandro, a town I had never heard of.
Quite a few years later, I traveled to the Bay Area and looked Harold and Lilly up. They were family and we had a grand time – telling stories, playing card games and breaking bread. We became close, and they drew me to Northern California. In the early 2000s, I moved up this way.