But we were more interested in its present. The people living here, working here, eating here.Sasha seemed invigorated hearing so many folks speaking ...er native tongue. She recognized some landmark buildings, but everything else had disappeared from her childhood memories. Understandably so, she hadn’t been back in 50 years.One of our first stops was to pay respect to Sasha’s mother, Veronika. A small cemetery, but well tended. A small grave marker for a woman strong enough to realize that. She crossed the room slipping into bed beside me, almost immediately tucking my head against her breast, her hand gently stroking my face as I lay there in the crook of her arm.That simple gesture took me back to days so long ago when we would often lie there together in my bed, listening to the sound of the thunder as it washed over us, eventually moving away. Very often, she would fall asleep there in my arms or me in hers, though she would generally get up sometime before sunrise and make. More

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