missing

Last night I called my landfamily in Armenia. I haven’t in weeks. I knew it would be hard to keep in touch. They don’t have internet. They live in another hemisphere. They wake up when I go to sleep. But still, I saw them everyday for almost two years, and the morning I left made all of us cry until we just couldn’t anymore. I called them sitting in the living room of my Texas home. I heard Serine’s voice, and there it was, the first cry since I landed in Texas over a month ago. They passed the phone…

and counting

Two nights ago I spent hours and hours trying to find a plane ticket, trudging through travel website after travel website like I was chopping through a marsh with a box cutter, looking for the ever elusive, speedy (less than 24 hours), cheap ticket to the States. Three days ago I found out I’ll be leaving a month early, July 15, for home.  Now that feels like a strange word. All this time I’ve been giving that word, ‘home’, to Texas, more and more tentatively as I have felt a change coming on.  After recent time visiting America, I started giving…

any minute now

I should be asleep.  I’ll be waking up tomorrow at a very early hour, one I’d call unholy except that what could be more holy than a reunion?  I’m not even sure I can sleep because… wait for it… … the reunion is starting in just a few hours. See that friendship displayed above.  That is pure, unadulterated love there, captured in digital form the last time Kelly, Sarah and I were together.  That was Texas.  This time we’re doing things Eurasia style. First things first, this one… … is landing in a matter of hours.  HOURS.  This friend who…

my texan mother in armenia

Most of the past week I think I’ll save for my novel/memoir/perpetually-put-off-piece-of-literature.  That is both a artistic decision, and a way of avoiding the impossibility of putting into words this past week with me, Mom, and Armenia. But, despite the length, consider this a taste. I saw her at first down the hallway, behind the glass partition, my mother looking much skinnier, a little lost, and washed over with anticipation.  She saw me jumping up above the crowd, waving one arm and holding a bouquet of flowers in the other, this little collection of green, white and lavender, a message…

i simply can’t wait to hug her

I’ve been digging through invoices.  Grant related invoices.  IN ARMENIAN. However, pat me on the back and hand me a hogie, I finished a little while ago, and now it’s time to employ me wee brain towards a more exciting end:  MY MOTHER IS PRACTICALLY ALMOST HERE.  This is my mother’s first solo trip just about anywhere, and she’s going as far as she possibly could go.  Go further than Armenia, and you’re already on your way back home.  I’m proud of her attempting this massive leap, and I feel all that love in my soul knowing she’s jumping on…