until I am in the South

I often forget about my mother’s people.. I associate myself  more with my father’s journey.. the immigrants story..

the story of  brothers.. one staying and one leaving for America… overcoming hardships and prejudice..

 

I forget about my mother’s people.. until I am in the south.. in Virginia.. where they originally came from..

 my great-grandfather was Daniel Webster Trigg… of the Virginia Triggs.. of the Abram Trigg line..

a farmer and a revolutionary..the family grew ..from Virginia to Kentucky  to Mississippi

where my mother’s father was born.. 

 

I never think of myself as a person with Southern roots..

although I recall my grandfather making fried grits on Sunday mornings..

and a trip to Mississippi and Georgia when I was young to visit Aunts with dark brown eyes like mine..

 

 until I am in the south.. where traveling along the Colonial Parkway takes you back to a time long ago..

where the trees are so thick along the road you almost feel like you are cocooned in green..

reaching around and up above you ..

they stretch out to touch each other..Wisteria blossoms here and there..

 

Dogwood blooms stark white against the green thickness..  

and time stands still..and with a deep breath and sigh.. I am home.