Today felt like a giraffe kinda day. Every time I get "homesick", I end up drawing something that reminds me of home. It is wild to me that in my mind "home" is Kenya, the place I lived in for the first 12 years of my life.
I think this idea of home has become enmeshed with the blissful innocence and cluelessness that I associate with Kenya. I can close my eyes and see the bright red iron rich dirt....I can see the trope of mischievous vervet monkeys hanging out on the fence watching us closely....the bright blossoms on plants around me....the papaya and avocado trees in the front yard. The beautiful beaches...the Indian Ocean that smells of magic and promise. I can see my brother and I exploring the reefs at low tide....I can also close my eyes and remember the feel of a giraffes long slimy tongue snagging a treat from my hand. It was such a beautiful time and place.
The sad reality is that I know I will never be able to ever visit those memories...for that version of me, version of that time and those experiences are in the past. Maybe one day I will get to go back home again and see it again with adult eyes....share it with the hubby...and it will be just as magical as it used to be. One day.