Hello. It has been quite some time. I see, in fact, it has been seven months. A lot has happened. I have been places and returned. Geographically and otherwise. I imagine you have also traveled. Geographically and otherwise.
Only last week I did this:
I have been thinking, often, that I would like to return. But having been away for seven months, it is so easy not to.
Then yesterday, a lovely man asked me: Why are you from Australia?
It isn’t what he meant to ask me.
I know because I laughed harder than I have laughed in some time and asked, Did you just asked me Why I’m from Australia?
And he agreed that he did in fact ask me that, though he meant to ask why I was at the Boulder Public Library when I am so clearly from Australia.
I didn’t answer either of his questions last night.
Here are some of the reasons why I am from Australia:
- Because after all of the dying, there had to be life
- Because Poland was no longer Poland
- Because Israel was not what she lived for
- My uncle Abram, who I never met
- My aunt Mania, who married Uncle Morry in a double wedding with my grandparents
- My uncle Sam, whose blue eyes were the same blue eyes as my grandfather’s
- Because sometimes it is necessary to cross an ocean
Why are you from where you are from?