It felt like the only thing we can take with us when leaving our country is our culture, and some spices as well. I thought with my culture, I can live anywhere. I didn’t realize it wasn’t just art, clothes and books. Slowly I brought pieces from my mom’s home. I started looking for vintage ships like the ones my dad had. I wasn’t a floral accent until I went Meirda in Mexico and started to cry to move our of the US and live in Egypt. I slowly turned my home into my family’s. I am still 13 hours flight away. My friends will always be there. The sea food can never be here.

I wounder if now I will ever feel the need to change something, or something is missing. I wounder if home now is just warm enough to feel like home? I might need a floral satin silk robe like the ones my mom’s have.