I woke up this morning to a cold grey sky. The light in my mothers eyes did not shine as bright. She asked me if I wanted coffee and turned away from my gaze. It was only seconds before I heard her start to cry. My mother is a strong woman, it is unlike her to show vulnerability like that unless someone has passed away. Oh, it suddenly clicks, someone must have passed away. It hurts to see her like this, she is clearly hurting. I go to her and hug her and while she cries in my arms she tells me her nephew, my cousin, has passed. She can barley hold the cup of unfinished coffee anymore. I feel her sorrow emanating and begin to creep its way down my throat. I'm conflicted, I barley knew the man, "why do I feel sad, why do I feel cheated?." Today is a reminder that I am a first generation Citizen. My life is torn between two cultures and unfortunately one of the ramifications is that I will most likely never get to know my entire family. I am heart broken that it feels like another set of books that detail my lineage have been burned and I was never given the opportunity to read their stories, to simply glimpse at the pages and see how their lives inadvertently affected mine.
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AuthorThese are my thoughts Archives
February 2020
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