Falling

There's autumn in the wind today.

For the first time in more than 60 days, it's not in the 90's. The wind is blowing from the east, mottling the sky with grey. Beautiful weather, were it not threatening rain.

I'm out of place here in Florida. I'm not a summer girl. I'm not a beach girl. I crave cool winds, autumnal reds and ochres. Give me a gentle fire, a cozy sweater, and a warm cup of coffee. That's me.

Better yet, give me a crisp evening and an old wooden porch swing, creaking from it's tired chains. Yes. That is me, there, wrapped in grandma's hand-made afghan, painted toes peeking out from beneath.

I don't want to be here anymore. Not in Florida. I want to go home.

Fifteen years it's been since I've felt like I've belonged anywhere. Fifteen long years of feigning happiness in this sticky heat that so many idolize. There's no life here, just soggy acceptance of the state of things.

We're not buying a new house. We're staying put. Not because this is were we want to be, but because there's nowhere we want to be here. So why go out and spend $300,000 on somewhere else to be unhappy?

But we can't leave, either. Can't just pick up and go. Where would we go?

I wouldn't mind going back to Tennessee. Not to Memphis, but maybe up near Kingsport, Knoxville, somewhere beautiful like that. Or maybe to North Carolina, somewhere outside of Raleigh. I spent a few months there once, it was magnificent. But what I want, and the reality of things seem to clash.

I've never been one to pull the race card, but now that I have a child to think about, it's hard not to. Where else in the world is an interracial family as accepted as it is here? Sure, my son is whiter than white, but what happens the first time people lay eyes on his daddy? Let's face it, we don't live in the enlightened world that we all like to think that we do. There's still racism out there. Fierce racism, and I don't want my son ostracised for his heritage.

Wil put it to me this way: "The white people hate me because they see me as black, the black people hate me because I'm not a "brother", so where do I fit in?

He's right, unfortunately. And I'd never really thought about it like that. Sure, there are a lot of people in a lot of places that ARE accepting, and who see past color and culture to the person behind the skin. But there are so many more who don't, can't, and won't.

So I guess that we'll stay, and I'll learn to be content. But for today, just for today, with the cool breeze blowing in from the ocean, I can pretend that I'm somewhere else.