Holidays

I’m like that awkward spot where grass meets old sidewalk and they’re duking it out to see who gets those extra couple of inches.

Because I am the comforting country kitchen, the legacy of a recipe for coconut cream pie so thoroughly memorized that ingredients need not be measured. I am sweet tea and ooey-gooey butter cake and Lincoln Logs and the heavy family Bible on the coffee table that’s full of genealogy information. I am Christmas cards on the mantle, cowboy boots, fake flowers, and the American flag out front.

But I’m also sizzling hamburger patties on a scorching December day in Africa. I am mist over Wanale Mountain and equatorial sunburn and lousy ice cream dribbling down my chin because I’m about to die laughing at some inside joke. I am bare feet and malaria, slow border crossings and ignored zebra crossings and the Indian spices that somehow pervade everything around them. I am Bollywood, bad hip-hop beats, and sweaty camaraderie in the back of a pick-up truck.

“Mother, Father, always you wrestle inside me; always you will.”

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About Leil_ish

I am restless and intensely curious about almost everything that most people don't care about.
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4 Responses to Holidays

  1. Gil says:

    I’m affected.

  2. Kiplangat says:

    Man, that’s some good stuff! Don’t ever think you’re alone in the way you feel.

  3. Rachel says:

    I totally understand. Well, not really. You lived in Uganda for so long. But I’m always feeling torn between my homes (Virginia, Tennessee, Italy, and Arkansas.) I have loved most of these places in their own way, but in a sense I no longer belong to any of them. I have friends around the world, but many of them are lost in the time continuum of life. I know how you feel. The best part is that all of these people and cultures affect and shape you. They make you a different more eclectic person.

  4. abitjuakali says:

    you get me.
    i love you.
    I miss you and think we need to hang out asap.

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