Transition

My parents

come from a generation

that experienced

the transition from orthodox beliefs

to new urban living.

My father loved his father.

When grandfather was gone, 

he cried a lot in solitude

and for as long as I can remember,

he has been that lonely child.

My mother carried her own world 

wherever she went.

When she moved with my fathers family, her world was lost inside her.

She has been the most loving person I have ever known.

Somehow, as the years kept piling on, she forgot to love herself.

It seems to me sometimes,

that time and solitude never seem to forget where we come from.