I have been reflecting on the idea of Place and Home as I prepare to make a trip back to the United States to visit my family for two months. This post is part of a series on what it means to be part of a family, a community, a home...================================================================
In Katsena, in a red land
the houses grow like ant hills
among the ant hills and the termite mounds.
I am looking for cattle and hoping for rain.
I am in Geneva, New York. My kitchen
is red, and the table has
one short leg. Outside
it is raining away the February snow.
Here, in Katsena and Geneva
my cooking pot just cracked.
Tomorrow my son will marry.
All this morning stretches for me
as I stretched last night in bed.
Silence in the house.
I am wandering here
in Geneva and Katsena.
~~Taken from the poem, In Place by Toni Flores
|Muncy (Photo courtesy of the Internet)|
My hometown of Muncy, Pennsylvania sits on the same longitudinal line as Kingston, Jamaica. Mo made this discovery one night while doing research using Google Earth. For him it confirmed that there was always this thread connecting us...that we were destined to find each other...that we are where we are supposed to be...
This week is a week of preparation...a week of reflection...a week of transition. I will begin packing and unearthing our winter coats, mittens and socks. I will call the friends and family that I have here to say good bye and happy holidays. I will call my family there to confirm everything is in place for our arrival. I will count down with Song and Shine the number of "sleeps" until we board the plane. I will look North, past the hills of St. Andrew and imagine the goings on in a sleepy little Pennsylvania town. I will sit in the hammock with Mo and talk about how far we've come.
I will be wandering here in Muncy and Kingston.
|Kingston (Photo courtesy of the Internet)|