We are, we exist, and we live! The older I get the more vivid my memories become! Today at Zimbali I look and voila, there in front of my eyes is this wild grass that grows in Africa. You touch it and is like creepy on your fingertips! I remembered just because my mom was next to me, why this grass was so peculiarly familiar!
My memory travels back in time, to those happy “dolce far niente” of my farm life!
Did you smoke mummy! I saw these cigarette buts! Did you some? And I lied! No I didn’t smoke, I think it was just someone here! The wind gets stronger as if Mother Nature is telling me shush ” who the heck are you to lie to a child”
I continue, I am now on a mission! Why shouldn’t my family story be told?
This is just a family story!