Johannesburg

Last month my family and I took a trip to South Africa. We started off our trip in Johannesburg where my mom grew up. Her family left in 1976 right after the riots. They left everything there. Started a new life. It's crazy to think that of all the places they could have moved to, they chose Cleveland. But I guess I'm lucky. I wouldn't be here writing this if they didn't move there. We went back to see my mom's house. After months of research my uncle got in touch with the family who lives there now. And just our luck...they have the exact same phone number. To think - they could have just picked up the phone and called. 

We walked in and it was like all of these stories I've heard over the years just started to come together. The long hallway with all the bedrooms, the big dining room, the maids quarters attached to the big back yard and swimming pool. It was all there. I'd been painting this story in my mind and it was like the colors were being filled in up until the moment I walked in and then finally the rush of emotion just hit me in the face. 

I watched my mom walk through the house and I saw her explode with what was like these comatose memories that started coming back to life. 40 years! 40 years since she's been back here. Everything was the same, from the curtain rods to the kitchen cabinets. Nothing had changed. My mom remembered how my grandpa installed the cabinets and my uncle - who was two at the time - followed him around the kitchen "helping". Something tells me he was causing more destruction than construction, but that's besides the point. I realized what my grandparents left behind to give our family a better life. I realized how strong they were to travel for 17 hours with five children. I realized how big of a pussy I am because I don't think I could never do what they did. It was sad. It was amazing. And it was closure.