Not everything is black and white. Some things are multi-colored with geometric shapes, fine lines and fuzzy, blurred edges. Sometimes it’s hard to tell where one thing ends and another begins. There may be no edges, fine lines, borders or shapes. There may be times when all these are present, yet they have no name. You can’t describe them even if you try. They just are.  That’s the case with the dilemma I have. Immigration, borders, fences, walls, doors and rooms to wait in are around the peremiter just outside my heart.  I can see them clearly, so bright, the faces of my family, my neighbors. The ones who live…