May 2, 2018
I landed home to attend my grandpa's funeral after 3 planes and 39 hours. Among his spirit, memories and countless things to treasure, there were few of his belongings left behind that he carried on a daily basis. His gold watch, a bunch of spare coins that he used to put aside to buy fresh bread, a bus pass for seniors and his decades-old rosary. I kept his rosary knowing that he wouldn't want to leave it behind. Between visits to the relatives, my grandma in a nursing home and the synagogue, I stepped out and watched the city as the sun went down at the Golden Horn. I felt that a part of my identity was displaced and I had a sense of loss in belonging to this soil called home.