"Cold tears as salty as ocean spray wet my face. I remember my...

"Cold tears as salty as ocean spray wet my face. I remember my mother’s death.

The day before she died, my mother did something I still don’t understand. She took me out in our little fishing boat, out on the open water of the sea—the thrum and hiss of surf upon the shore behind us, the rhythm never ceasing.

My mother waited until we were out of sight of land. She squinted against the bright sunlight, making sure we were alone. And then she taught me something: strange words in a foreign tongue, a lilting singsong cadence to it….. secret words I was never to share. 

Afterwards, my mother rowed us back, the waves lifting and catching us as I whispered the words in cadence. The boat slipped through the last breakers and came toward the beach, and my mother leaned close to me, kissed me on the forehead.

“Never forget who you truly are, but never tell a living soul.” “ 

— from the novel Sinful Folk