Written

I Can’t Stop Thinking About Moms Who Are Separated From Their Families—Like Mine Was

I Can’t Stop Thinking About Moms Who Are Separated From Their Families—Like Mine Was

The last memory I have of my homeland is sitting in an airplane, naively excited about the adventure my family was about to have. Five-year-old me looked down at the ocean that encircled my small island and hoped wherever we were going was near the water. But as my mother watched the waves of the ocean, she prayed each tide would close the distance between our family, now split in two.