![]() ![]() My own humanity was awakened, rising up to greet me with a handshake as I watched the first glimmers of sunlight peek over the horizon. The uncertainty that lived inside me began to dissipate the ache that the little boy who stared in the mirror felt was gone. They were done long ago, but a new pain and a new awareness were born inside me. A penetrating loneliness covered me, lay on me so heavily I had to sit down and cover my face. ![]() ![]() I gotta get out of here.” It suddenly occurred to me that my grandmother had walked around here and gazed upon this water many times, and the loneliness and agony that Hudis Shilsky felt as a Jew in this lonely southern town-far from her mother and sisters in New York, unable to speak English, a disabled Polish immigrant whose husband had no love for her and whose dreams of seeing her children grow up in America vanished as her life drained out of her at the age of forty-six-suddenly rose up in my blood and washed over me in waves. The Color of Water: A Black Man's Tribute to His White Mother Audible Audiobook Unabridged James McBride (Author), JD Jackson (Narrator), & 2 more 8,564 ratings See all formats and editions Kindle 9.99 Read with Our Free App Audiobook 0. As I walked along the wharf and looked over the Nansemond River, which was colored an odd purple by the light of the moon, I said to myself, “What am I doing here? This place is so lonely. ![]()
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