I’ve been thinking a lot about the act of leaving recently. I left home before I knew what it felt like to belong somewhere and it seems that ever since then, I have been in a perpetual state of flight, sprinkling bits of myself between two worlds, The Garden and the City. I wonder how my parents did it. How do you leave and never go back.
My parents left their lives behind so me and my brother could have a better future. They left their gardens at home in order to start a new one together, in a foreign land across the sea. As I am sitting here, typing this final paragraph, I am thinking of all the seeds my parents planted throughout the years, all the gardens we left, all the families that came after us. How amazing it is to raise living things and for those living things to raise more life.
