Our new puppy, Luna, is on a mission. She is stealing hearts. I was the first victim; my husband came next. Our youngest dog, Vader, is already toast, and our oldest dog, Patches, is trying hard not to give in, but she will hand her heart over as well.
When I finally understood the English lyrics and realized the depth of this song for the first time, I cried. Not loud, but quiet tears were running down my face. I was in my late 20s then and already lived in America.
Do you open your neighbor’s garden gate, stomp through their rosebed, and then sit down on their patio?
The garden gate and the fence around the flowerbed mark the property line that we do not cross without the neighbor’s permission. In most cases, we can also easily perceive physical boundaries: if someone touches us, we quickly register whether or not we are comfortable with it and act accordingly.
I have been very fortunate in my life. I have been to Africa a couple of times, not just for vacation or a safari, but also, I was allowed to work there for a few months. Africa! When I say the word, you can hear the love I feel. It’s the same tone of voice that I use when I say “Hi, honey.”
Wandering around the Albuquerque Airport Terminal, after learning my flight had been delayed four hours, I heard an announcement: “If anyone in the vicinity of Gate A-4 understands any Arabic, please come to the gate immediately.”
In the U.S. and Mexico, Austria and Australia, Switzerland and Pakistan, and in many other countries, in small apartments and suburban villas, on farms, houseboats, and huts, today, on May 10th, many countries celebrate mothers who are doing their jobs.
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“The ordinary man has always been sane because the ordinary man has always been a mystic. He has permitted the twilight.
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I was born into an annexed region. I could have been Italian, but because of my Grandfather’s stubbornness, and because part of our farm was on the right side of the mountains/border, I came into this world as an Austrian girl. I am also American, by choice and love. The love for the man I met so many decades ago, who I followed to his country, who became my husband. Whose language I learned, whose passion I share. I am an American-Austrian, an Austria-American, a female version of Schwarzenegger. I am an Austrian in America.
