I am still here. Needing to look up, look out, widen my eyes and take in a periphery.
It’s been thirteen months since the birth of my son.
It has been glorious, mesmerizing, intoxicating to be filled with nothing but the smell and taste of your children.
I feel drugged.
I feel full.
Now it is time to look up, look out, widen my eyes and take in a periphery.
I don’t have much, as I stumble out, weak and logy, but one glance at something out and up to share, to see Rome again before we leave, to remember this place that gave me a boy and helped to grow my girl.
For we are turning around. We are moving again. Back to the red dirt of Uganda.