Monday, June 07, 2004
June 6, 1997
Yesterday was the anniversary of D-Day; The Day of Days. The Longest Day. But this date also marks a bitter anniversary of my own. It was seven years to the day that I had last stepped on South African soil. Normally, this wouldn't even be worth mentioning. However, this 7th year is particularly bothersome.
When I was 17, I visited S.A. after a seven year absence. I remember leaving the airport from Cape Town, sobbing like a little girl as my dad told me that "they'll miss you, too." I promised myself that there would never be an interval of that length between trips again. But now, it seems I've broken that promise to myself. For as much as I complain about it, I suppose it would be silly to actually blame myself for not having the money or time to fly down there for a couple weeks. It stings, though. I feel like I've missed out on a whole other life back there. All my relatives, including my lone surviving grandparent, have missed me growing up into the remarkable man I am today (tongue buried not so far in cheek). There's a lot I miss about being back home.
I distinctly remember being on the beach in Sea Point in '97 and feeling a sense of completion; something I had never felt in all my formative years up to that point. It's a feeling I've been chasing, scrambling to regain ever since.
|
When I was 17, I visited S.A. after a seven year absence. I remember leaving the airport from Cape Town, sobbing like a little girl as my dad told me that "they'll miss you, too." I promised myself that there would never be an interval of that length between trips again. But now, it seems I've broken that promise to myself. For as much as I complain about it, I suppose it would be silly to actually blame myself for not having the money or time to fly down there for a couple weeks. It stings, though. I feel like I've missed out on a whole other life back there. All my relatives, including my lone surviving grandparent, have missed me growing up into the remarkable man I am today (tongue buried not so far in cheek). There's a lot I miss about being back home.
I distinctly remember being on the beach in Sea Point in '97 and feeling a sense of completion; something I had never felt in all my formative years up to that point. It's a feeling I've been chasing, scrambling to regain ever since.
Comments:
Post a Comment
