The memories of what you left behind

I left my Asian home country 38 years ago but, still, I can see and hear the images and sounds of what I had. It happens most often in my half-awake, half-asleep state. In the early hours of the morning my mind is transported back. I am no longer living in a white man's country. My skin colour doesn't count.

Last night I heard my father coming home from work. His children, my siblings and I, ran  to greet him. Despite the cold chill of the winter's night I felt the warmth of my home country. My mother and sibling's voices filtered through my ears and brain. My heart leapt at the familiarity of hearing us all talk about our day at school and asking my parents about theirs.

I may have moved thousands of miles away, formed new roots, created new alliances and forged new bonds and loyalties but one's beginnings will always remain in one's heart and mind and soul.