Goodbye Leningrad


A little girl I am whisked away. All together, Mama, Papa and Babushka (grandma) board a plane to who knows where. We all land safely, on some ground. I ask “Is this where we are moving to?”

         “No, dear not yet, this is where we wait.” I am told.

          Wait?  Alright then, it is a lovely place. Near the beach we stay with Senora Maria. They don’t speak my language here, I quickly realize.  They speak Italian, we are in Lodispoli, somewhere south of Rome, Mama tells me.  There are children there and they are friendly, we play outside, mostly on the beach and I learn “ciao” and many new words as I play each day.  I understand them soon enough and they laugh when I say something funny in Italian but they help me and I learn.

          Three months fly by and the wait is over, we must board another plane. Babushka is tired and somewhat ill; she seems scared as mama and papa explain that we have the “Visa’s” whatever those are, but they are happy so I know it must be a good thing. As the plane lands safely once again I ask “Is this where we are going to live?”  Mama says yes while busy making sure our parcels are all there.

          There are very few parcels, and I was only allowed to bring my favorite doll, just one.  I left the rest behind with my best friend, Katya. She seemed happy but still cried that morning when we left.  She knew we would not see each other again; she was older than I and much cleverer.

          So there we are in a very busy airport once again, waiting.  Suddenly I am whisked into the arms of a beautiful young girl.  She hugs me as black tears rush down her face.  Mama is confused but I know this girl, it is Marina my only cousin.   Mama is shocked she has grown so much, a woman she is and they hug and cry.  Bella and George my Totya (aunt) and Dadya (uncle) are there too.  Everyone is crying, but not me, it’s too exciting with all the commotion.

           I hold Babushkas hand as we walk through “JFK” and it is a long walk for her.  She is tired, very tired and I want to leave this place with all the strange people speaking another language I don’t understand.  Marina speaks it well and I laugh when I learn my first word, “OK”.  Everything is “ok” as we get into the van with our parcels and everyone in the van together.  Mama and Bella keep crying and laughing, they act strange and nervous but I am OK.  We are on our way to our new house, it is May 10, 1979 and it is hotter than I have ever felt before.

Copyright ©2008 Veronica Romm

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Electing the American President


Repost MLK DAY 2018 Repost from 2008 election. How things change and how they stay the same:

Today November 4, 2008 we are all a part of the most important event in political history.  Barack Obama, the Democratic candidate might possibly become the first black president of the United States.  Watching the two years of endless campaigning has been daunting, annoying, and often shocking.   Republican nominee John McCain, a Vietnam veteran and POW opposes the historical Democratic nominee.

Barack Obama
Barack Obama
John McCain
John McCain

While I am writing I am seeing voter turn out in the tri-state area at an all time high rate with lines outside the door in some locations.

The candidates
The candidates

Whatever your thoughts are on the campaign, the candidates or issues one thing can not be denied and that is the importance of this unprecedented election.

What has been a campaign fraught with many unpleasant, ignorant and even funny moments, now comes down to voting.  Nothing would surprise me today or tonight.  I just hope that tomorrow morning there is a new president elect.  May the best man win.

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