There is something that those who have been to hell and back possess.

We are having the conversation again, about what we will do if / when our immigration status becomes once more a question of life and death.

For the moment we are as okay as it is possible to be when daily you are confronted with the tenuousness of the certification that you are one of the acceptable ones.

Three months? Six months? Two years? Five? I have never really needed certainty, but now I seek safety.

This week a friend said, “I wish it didn’t cost us so much to tell the truth.”