What a poignant story with your memories mixed in to paint a colorful life that is no more. It’s odd that you have no recollection of critical moments like saying goodbye to your mother, but you were a young girl most likely focused on other things that you judged important at that time. The sad fact is that my mother also came to the US on her own as a very young woman. She was the only child of parents she adored and living on a small island in a tiny country. I never thought to ask her what the goodbyes were like, and now my chance is gone, as she is also gone.
Thank you for reading. There is such sadness in many immigration stories… and often beautiful survivals. Probably why there is such an impulse to gather and safeguard family stories.
Keep writing, Chica!!! Love it.
¡Y tú también, guapo! Looking forward to more of yours.
What a poignant story with your memories mixed in to paint a colorful life that is no more. It’s odd that you have no recollection of critical moments like saying goodbye to your mother, but you were a young girl most likely focused on other things that you judged important at that time. The sad fact is that my mother also came to the US on her own as a very young woman. She was the only child of parents she adored and living on a small island in a tiny country. I never thought to ask her what the goodbyes were like, and now my chance is gone, as she is also gone.
Thank you for reading. There is such sadness in many immigration stories… and often beautiful survivals. Probably why there is such an impulse to gather and safeguard family stories.