A Girl Named Leney

THE JOURNAL

Where You Came From

we stood there in the kitchen, the kitchen of a house whose interior resembled that of a boat's.
(in which case it would be more accurate to say we were in the galley.) 

toasting to the knuckles, not the glass, because that's how sailors do it.
and with time worn eyes he looked at me and said:

"i'll never forget, i was worried about something one day and my mother said to me: 'well... never forget who you are and where you came from.'"

such simple and straightforward words. 
and yet, they were words i knew i would hold onto for some time to come. 
words that would center me, when i was feeling uncentered.
as we are all apt to feel from time to time.