The Last Ride (03.29.2000)

It’s almost 11.00 PM as everyone piles into a taxi that is racing towards the airport in traffic that just refuses to subside even at this hour. My mother is silent, but I can almost read her worry.

What will my son do in a foreign land, what will he eat, who will he talk to?

I am not that concerned, or maybe it hasn’t struck me just yet, the enormity of my decision to move to a country not…