My mom has been visiting this past week. Because Mama Loza never arrives without a mission, we've been scouting potential locations for a landing pad were she to ever actually retire. As she is someone who has proudly held a job since the age of 14 years old, the idea of "doing nothing" elicits an understandable amount of excitement as well as anxiety. She's been remarkably (and uncharacteristically) vulnerable when discussing the topic.

Our conversations have veered from the practical (Chicago winters do a number on her sciatica) to the comical (the Italian beef joints in Los Angeles are decidedly "pathetic" and she has zero interest in trying any of that vegan "nonsense"). Yet, one through line persists in each exchange. It has to do with the idea of a new chapter and the time available

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