“Home is where one starts.”
The morning is cloudy and in the mid 70’s where it will stay all day. The air is a bit humid. It is the sort of day lending itself to quiet. Even the dogs feel it, and both are lying around napping on comfy spots, the couch and the bed. They are my heroes.
When I was a kid, we didn’t have our own house. We lived in one side of a duplex in the project where most of the families were young. Living there was usually a first stop, the one before house ownership. When the families moved, most of them stayed in town. It was a good town. I think we moved the furthest away. Later, when I was in Ghana, my parents and my two sisters moved back to that town. My sister still lives there. It is mostly a good town.
When we first moved to the cape, I didn’t settle right away. I kept taking the bus to spend weekends with my friends. I’d come home from school and stay in my room, hating it all. I don’t remember when that changed, when the cape became home. When I got back from Ghana, even though my parents had moved away to our old town, I went home to the cape.
We sometimes went on Sunday rides. My father took all back roads. I remember seeing a few deer eating grass in a field. I was so excited I probably scared them. I think it was the first time I had ever seen animals in the wild other than the spawns and maybe a skunk or two. In the fall, we’d stop to buy apples or pumpkins. In the summer we’d sometimes get ice cream at one of those dairy farm stands that appeared on the side of the road almost in the middle of nowhere. There were always lines.
Later, after I finish here, I’m going to go get checked. I still limp, and I still cough. I woke up coughing once last night and scared Henry. He went downstairs. He came back at some point but I didn’t notice. Mostly they stay close to me. Nala tilts her head. She is trying to figure out what is happening. I just tell her it is okay, and she wags her tail.
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