Day 119
I have a friend. For the sake of her anonymity, I will call her Gretchen.
When I watch what’s happening at the southern border of the US I can’t help but think about Gretchen, and Andrei, and a few others that I know who are legal immigrants or naturalized US citizens. When I hear their stories of coming to America with the American dream occupying their thoughts, I am reminded first, that I am very lucky to have been born here, and second, what a slap in the face it must be to them to see all those crossing illegally and getting away with it. How can we know who has a legitimate claim to asylum and who is trying to game the system without proper vetting? I am sure there are folks fleeing oppression coming through the southern border, but I suspect there are many many more who are not. But I don’t want to talk about the disturbing stuff.
It took Andrei 9 years to gain his citizenship. This alone tells me our immigration laws are whacko. But his story is very long and not for the telling today.
Gretchen was 18 years old in 1976 when she packed up and set off on her own, from West Germany, to find her American dream. And she took the job of becoming a citizen very seriously. To this day, I’m sure she would beat me in a civics test. Shame on me.
My morning view.
Today, Gretchen has a beautiful home on the river in Jacksonville (see pictures below), a son, a business that supports her and a garden and menagerie of animals that keep her busy. She made good on her American dream, and I am the beneficiary of that realized dream on occasion. I have been moochdocking in her driveway for a while now, waiting for an important piece of mail. You would think by now she would be sick of me, but we always seem to have a lot to talk about.
Thank you, Gretchen, for being my friend. I love you.
Jacksonville
