seven year itch

I'm finally here.  Seven years is a long time to stay away from your roots.  But it still keeps drawing you in.  Sitting here on the Terrass, listening to israeli music, thinking, another life.

I'm staying with my cousin, Talia, who is from what I understand, a pretty good writer.
I haven't seen much of the place yet, it's been enough to drink the coffee, watch the gangly ants ranging over the deck and let the memories creak open the door and float me back to israeli salad on the balcony with my grandparents, shakshouka and bottles of orange coloured soda.  But this isn't the same, it's quiet, it's relatively cool and I am not part of it.  Aside and watching but soon to dive in and let it cover me.

Last night we talked and I want to talk some more, but let it happen.  We talked about similarities of families, and underneath the cultural differences slipped to the side like it was water on a tray poured out leaving it all clear and free to take whatever it holds.

I wanted to record a few thoughts on the off.  I feel already as if I'm learning.  My cousin talked about coming here to the country to confront her fears.  there's a little of that here for me.