The Fire Lane

It was the closest thing we had to a yard. The fire lane in our apartment complex in Berkeley was a large stretch of asphalt directly in front of our apartments. When you walked out of your front door (your only exterior door) you faced a massive stretch of asphalt. The fire lane. Originally created so that fire trucks or other helpful vehicles could find their way to our apartments, the fire lane was now peppered with toy cars, small bikes, and sand toys. The fire lane was the children's playground. Our offspring congregated there to play imaginary games, ride tricycles, and chase one another. On the weekends, the fire lane transformed itself into Party Central. Various groups held BBQ's, sitting around 'til all hours of the morning. The fire lane is where my girlfriends and I congregated as well. Almost daily. Like Marie-Laure in Berkeley Bowl, I gained my most valuable insights while sitting in the fire lane.

One specific memory recalls a day when I was overwhelmed with postpartum depression. I didn't know what it was at the time. But I was sad. So sad. I had an eighteen-month-old and a two-week-old. On this particular afternoon, I was pacing through my apartment, wringing my hands at the confusion around me. Until I heard voices. My girlfriends were outside. They sat in the sunshine and discussed some recipe they had discovered. I grabbed my baby bjorn, my perfect newborn, and my precious toddler. It was all I could do to make it out there without pulling my hair out. And then it all went away. The sadness didn't seem so sad. I sat at the picnic table of the asphalt playground and listened to my friends. I closed my eyes and held my face toward the perfect Berkeley afternoon. The sun, the slight wind, the smell of eucalyptus mixed with someone's early dinner. The depression melted into nothing, and my dearest friends' supportive glances and happy suggestions filled the scary void. Over the next few years, the fire lane became the most beautiful resting place. I looked to it for peace, support, comfort, and sun. It was our yard. We didn't have anything else. And I learned in the fire lane that sister-friends (as I like to call them) make any setting the most beautiful place in the entire world.