First Time, Last Time

“Three nights left under the mosquito net,” my mom said to me this morning. Wait, what am I going to do without the mosquito net? Without the gate to the house? Without guard dogs? What is it going to be like?

These last few days are going by too quickly. And yet, having my mom along has opened my eyes yet again. New tastes, new sights, new things to write home about – everything I have missed explaining, that I have become accustomed to, that has become a part of my everyday life. It’s only when you are holding hands with your mom walking next to the gutter, and you next to the cars flying by, that you remember that it can be scary, that it is exciting, and it is a time that you will never forget.

So when my mom asks if it’s okay to take pictures in the market, I have to look through a new lens, change the shutter speed, focus in on what’s around us, and try to keep up with my fast-walking, wonderful mom.

These are my last times in Ghana and my mom’s first. Saying goodbye is easier when you have your mom sleeping in bed next to you under the mosquito net (though not when the power is out, then it’s just too hot). I couldn’t have asked for a better ending.