In the wilderness

I have been contextualizing the experience of being apart from the life I once lived with J as such: in the wilderness. My life had been domestic and secure. I had a firm sense Home. Over time I have grown more comfortable with living without what had been accepted as real. The ballet tickets, frequent dining at cafe Riggio and il Contuccio, vet bills for cats, driving the mini around SF. Grocery shopping at Trader Joes. Shopping in general as though it was a real activity all by itself- a pasttime perhaps.
I am writing this from the porch at the Rancho. The things I own are packed into Kilo's bus. We are a day or so away from the Bay. The old ways of being in SF are coming back to mind. I have questions about what moving to up north will come to mean.
I have been in Santa Barbara for about a year and a half. Rental Express, 635 Tennessee, the DJ thing, are distant memories, now.
Has my experience in Santa Barbara taught me anything?
What can I learn from this time spent 'in the wilderness'?
What I can say with certainty is that I have friends in a way that is real; friends whom I care for and believe in. I feel their love. While I may have lost two of the most significant people in my life in the past two years, I have made friends with people that I want to know long after this period has changed into what it will become.
Is moving back to the Bay the first step in the next cycle? Is it significant that I did not get to reconcile? I do know the story is still being written. I do know that there is a phrase for what I experienced after Vicki died: memento mori. I was called to my life in such a way as to be unmistakabe; I do know that the cliché 'you can never go Home' has served to give me perspective. Is it true? The story is still being written.