People Forget

Going Home

            Four walls, two windows and a roof provide shelter while souls with one purpose and one heart provide a home. During the summer of 2014, my mother, my sister left our father to visit our motherland, Kenya. We visited so that we could reconnect with our extended family.

Two months. That was the amount of time I spent with my nephews, cousins, aunts and uncles, and grandmothers. During this time I had to savor every emotions ranging from the excitement to the sadness.  My mother expressed joy at seeing her mothers and her brothers and sisters; my sister, Yvonne, expressed shock as she realized the numerous cousins she had; I experienced happiness while talking with my cousins as we visited parks in the country. Amidst of all this enjoyment was the dreaded feeling that it would all end.

             Departure after spending time being with them was more painful than the first time five years ago. This time I was older, smarter, and wiser than I was the last time. The passion for adventure as we came back to America overpowered the sadness. as I now reminisce about this summer, there is a bitter-sweet taste in my mouth.

            “Hello there, do you remember me? I’m your cousin…aunt…uncle...nephew. This is fun. Take a picture…Remember us…Call us…Goodbye.” So I took pictures to capture emotions that could not be duplicated, my sister and I worked to memorize their faces but they slowly started to fade, and the sound of their voice became a distant memory. Although their memory is fading my sister and I had formed another home outside America.  Trying experience everything with them was a failure as our summer on a timer, I had neither the words nor the time to waste; it is a concept I have yet to grasp.