When Home is Over the Sea

Immigrant life during the pandemic.

Photo by Edward Cisneros on Unsplash

It had been three years since I saw mom.

Dad had called to tell me that she was sick. Really sick. Back then, the pandemic had not yet hit. I was free to go.

I didn’t pack or change into regular shoes. I jumped on a train to the nearest airport with a passport and a credit card in my pocket, work shoes still…