And then there were three.

Wednesday, August 19, 2011

The longer I stay here I realize that it’s the women in this family who have kept things together.  As I get to know my grandmother and aunts for the first time I am thankful that I come from a line of strong warrior women.  I hear tales of younger days and tougher times.  Grandma tells me how grandpa and her married, her at 16 and grandpa at 25 and together raised 16 children.  Aunts share stories about having so many children in the house and managing such a large household.  I think about the women in my own family and I want to cry.  

Two years ago it was my younger sister who was in my place and after her my mother.  Sister had a one year old child and spent over 2 months in Mexico not knowing if she would return to her husband and child.  Although everyone thinks that a one year old child won’t remember anything I can assure you that her child was scared for life.  At only 1 her daughter went through a depression of her own, the first week she wouldn’t eat or sleep right, she cried all the time and although we let her talk to her mom and skyped her she did not want to see or talk to my sister.  No matter how much my little sister tried to make contact with her daughter her daughter did not.  As the time passed we all worried how long such a young child could live without her mother.  My mother was away for almost 7 months and I thought those were the hardest 7 moths of all of our lives.  Little did I know life had tougher moments in stored for us. 

Mother left behind a husband, three adult children and three granddaughters.  My nieces still cry when someone is away for longer than a day.  I remember that my 7 year old niece confronted me one day and after countless times of telling her granny would be home soon she said to me “stop lying to me and tell me the truth already, is granny ever coming back?”  I was afraid to answer her for fear of crying myself.  I wanted to tell her that everything would be alright and that her granny would be home in no time but I couldn’t do that because deep down inside I didn’t know if that was true.  There were times I cried in my husbands arms and confessed to him that I was scared I would never see my mother again.  My father fell in a deep and extreme depression dropping about 25 lbs from a lack of sleep and food.  He wouldn’t eat for days and spent most of those days in a haze.  The happy go lucky grandpa that played with his grand daughters and took them to the park was no more.  At nights I could hear him crying in his room and I was too much of a coward to go in and hug him and comfort him.  I could lie to a 7 year old but I couldn’t lie to a grown man.  After many months I could hear my mother crying to dad on the phone and begging him not to forget about her.  

With me that makes three the women in our family who have had to suffer at the hands of this horrible immigration system.  The first thing this process takes from you is your pride and self worth.  Without the support of your family and friends you feel worthless.  Not just for those who leave but for those who stay who have to pick up the pieces left by this shitty system.  Now I understand my sister and my mother more than ever and what I don’t understand is how they got through it.  I have to remind myself everyday that today is a day worth getting up for and that today will be better than yesterday and that today will bring me one day closer to my husband and family and though I remind myself I find it hard to believe it.