Today I wanted to write how thankful I am to be an immigrant. Then I started thinking aren’t we really all immigrants. I’m thinking back to the days when the world was one big ice ball, the days of Pangaea and after. I used to love that part of history or as it was conveniently called Ancient History when I went to school. I’m not going to look up all the paleolithic names because I haven’t got the brain matter left to do those things since starting these pills but I’ll just say……..”When I was a kid…wait a minute, I’m not THAT old….how about when my father was a boy? (there, that’s better) the earth was still forming its continents and the plates were moving about and man eventually began moving about too. So aren’t we all just immigrants somehow, someway?
Okay Dot, you’re off your rocker.
I’m thankful for being the daughter of a LEGAL IMMIGRANT. There, that’s what I’ve been trying to say all along. My father immigrated here from Norway in 1926 and came through Ellis Island. I’m especially grateful his father settled in Boston and decided not to go out into the Midwest along with many of the other Scandinavians. I love living in Boston even though there are very few Norwegians here. I was raised to be an American and we only spoke English. I wanted to learn Norwegian but that was forbidden as we lived in America. As an adult I understand but it would have been cool to know another language. So, I’m lucky and thankful, I don’t have to go through the misery that people have to go through today that try to get into my country and even with the problems here I don’t see droves of people packing up to leave either. Thank you to my grandfather and to my Dad. Or maybe I should say MANGE TAKK!