fromthemouthofmoi

I was wee when The Hudson still froze. We, my siblings and I, were bundled brown skin trudging across to The Bronx. Here, in Inwood, my family is not noticed; we are just a few amongst many. Anyone attempting difference is quickly reminded of the commonality of poverty; odds are we are wearing a neighbour's hand-me-downs. I've known Anne forever; I have no sense that there might have been a time when we have not been confidantes.  Green Gables was a dilapidated run down farm house in the middle of the woods when I was wee. Freda and I held hands and fancied ourselves kindred spirits as we traipsed through those woods wondering aloud if indeed we were walking the same steps as Anne and Diana once had. Freda made me kindred when she saw that I too had curly hair; she became kindred when I learned that she was a she in the midst of all boys; a configuration of family not unlike my own. Forty years later we still hold hands when we meet at airports or during a stroll ...

I want to go and travel. I'm on a budget. I can't go willy nilly despite having a passport that says I can leave when I want. It's sort of like that comic saying: What do you mean I am overdrawn? I still have checks. I want to go visit Bob in Panama; he was my first employer in Oregon and now he lives close-by. I want to tell him that when I was employed by him, I often took a straw into the walk-in refrigerator and opened beers and drank. I hope he will laugh at this point in time. I want to re-visit the UK because when I went before I was as sick as a dog and I feel gipped. I want to go to Africa. Anywhere in Africa because I am of African American descent and I feel a need to see where my ancestors might have come from. I want to go too, because I love Black people. I like they way they look and I think I will feel comfortable in the presence of those that never left my Motherland. I want to visit Tbilisi, Georgia because I have a Pen Pal there. I want to see Petra...