Has it alway been hard? 1/2
anonymous
March 12 2009, 05:25:41 UTC
“Que pasa?” a tanned man came up to me, like most of the people around us he had black messy hair and dark brown eyes. I shrugged a bit, looking at the gorge, the water almost overflowing with the rain water, people walking by, some stopping to look at the waters, some threw their junk in the water. I sighed and reached to touch the water, the man grabbed my hand and shook his head. A closer look at the water indicated the pollution it had suffered, bottles under water, bottle caps, candy wrappers, and even more trash into.
“Vámonos,” the man dragged me away from the water and into the sidewalk.
----
The park was practically empty, only a family was actually enjoying themselves, the parents on the bench smiling at their kid. I walked up to the swing and sat down, the playground was new, at least I think it was. It wasn’t there 8 years ago, the man sat down next to me, the swing let a small squeak from the combine weight. “Que paso?” the man asked. Again I shrugged, not having the courage to say anything. “De verdad?” he raised an eyebrow at me and I looked away, with a sigh I started to swing he followed, I knew I had to say it he had to know.
“I’m leaving.” He didn’t look at me, he started to swing higher and higher.
“No entiendo inglés.” I gripped the metal links hard, he knew, he understood. I closed my eyes and hoped to God I knew what I was doing.
“Stop. I know it’s hard, just stop.” I couldn’t stop the tears, was it always so hard?
“Do you remember? When you first came here? You were so scared and lost.” He smiled, he seemed so distant. I only nodded, I remembered, I lost my grandma in the crowd downtown, screaming and crying in English. Everyone seemed so confused and so many tried to translate what I was saying, only few actually understood my 5 year-old panic attack. All he did was bend down to her and spoke in fluent English, reassuring her and comforting her until her grandmother came.
Has it alway been hard? 2/2
anonymous
March 12 2009, 05:26:56 UTC
“I remember did I ever thank you for that?” I asked, wiping my tears away he started to slow down. “Yes, you have. Every time you come by you always do.” I looked at the sky, it seemed cloudy, dark, but not dark enough for rain. “When are you leaving?” he broke our silence. “On Saturday, my classes start two weeks from now…I promised Al, I’d be back too.” He came to a full stop and only nodded. “I know. It still hurts though, everyone leaving. All of them going to Alfred, not all of them ever come back. They’re kids forget what it means to be a from this land, always say they’re proud of their parents nationality but always saying they’re American.” He let out a sigh, “Though, sometimes it’s good I suppose, they get what they can’t find here; money, love, education, all those things.” “That’s not true! We all love this land, it’s our home. We will always remember you, our father, our guardian, our home. I’ll be back I promise.” I reached out to grab him, but he jumped out of the swing. “When? The first time you came back 3 years after, the second 2 years later, now, after practically 8 years? You’re parents are never here, your grandparents are staying over there too, it’s just you and you’re siblings.”I stood up, it was true, it’s actually a miracle I came here. “I don’t know when, but I will be back. I don’t know when, but I will be. I promise that, I promise. Te quiero. Te amo!” I covered my face with my hands, tears leaking out. Has it always been so hard? “I know, I know. Te quiero también. Cuídate por favor, regresar pronto.” He held me close, like he always did when I cried, when we all cried. -- The plane took off, my sister cried, waving at the window, hoping my aunt would see, my brother clutched my older brother, fearing the ride back to America. My brother send me a look, was he crying? “We’ll be back.” He said, trying to get my little brother off his arm. I only nodded, glancing at the window as the plane went higher and higher and my sister cried harder. “I know, but does it always get harder?” I asked, my sister turned to me and cried on my shirt. Later she would sleep and pretend it would never happen, like letting go would never be hard. Maybe I should do that too. Tears leaked down my face. “Has it always been easy?” my brother asked, patting my crying little brother.
-- Because of family issues and money issues anon hasn’t returned to her homeland in two years since her last visit. Hope this was good for all of you. My Spanish is rusty since almost everyone speaks English here.
“Vámonos,” the man dragged me away from the water and into the sidewalk.
----
The park was practically empty, only a family was actually enjoying themselves, the parents on the bench smiling at their kid. I walked up to the swing and sat down, the playground was new, at least I think it was. It wasn’t there 8 years ago, the man sat down next to me, the swing let a small squeak from the combine weight. “Que paso?” the man asked. Again I shrugged, not having the courage to say anything.
“De verdad?” he raised an eyebrow at me and I looked away, with a sigh I started to swing he followed, I knew I had to say it he had to know.
“I’m leaving.” He didn’t look at me, he started to swing higher and higher.
“No entiendo inglés.” I gripped the metal links hard, he knew, he understood. I closed my eyes and hoped to God I knew what I was doing.
“Stop. I know it’s hard, just stop.” I couldn’t stop the tears, was it always so hard?
“Do you remember? When you first came here? You were so scared and lost.” He smiled, he seemed so distant. I only nodded, I remembered, I lost my grandma in the crowd downtown, screaming and crying in English. Everyone seemed so confused and so many tried to translate what I was saying, only few actually understood my 5 year-old panic attack. All he did was bend down to her and spoke in fluent English, reassuring her and comforting her until her grandmother came.
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“Yes, you have. Every time you come by you always do.” I looked at the sky, it seemed cloudy, dark, but not dark enough for rain. “When are you leaving?” he broke our silence.
“On Saturday, my classes start two weeks from now…I promised Al, I’d be back too.” He came to a full stop and only nodded.
“I know. It still hurts though, everyone leaving. All of them going to Alfred, not all of them ever come back. They’re kids forget what it means to be a from this land, always say they’re proud of their parents nationality but always saying they’re American.” He let out a sigh, “Though, sometimes it’s good I suppose, they get what they can’t find here; money, love, education, all those things.”
“That’s not true! We all love this land, it’s our home. We will always remember you, our father, our guardian, our home. I’ll be back I promise.” I reached out to grab him, but he jumped out of the swing.
“When? The first time you came back 3 years after, the second 2 years later, now, after practically 8 years? You’re parents are never here, your grandparents are staying over there too, it’s just you and you’re siblings.”I stood up, it was true, it’s actually a miracle I came here.
“I don’t know when, but I will be back. I don’t know when, but I will be. I promise that, I promise. Te quiero. Te amo!” I covered my face with my hands, tears leaking out.
Has it always been so hard?
“I know, I know. Te quiero también. Cuídate por favor, regresar pronto.” He held me close, like he always did when I cried, when we all cried.
--
The plane took off, my sister cried, waving at the window, hoping my aunt would see, my brother clutched my older brother, fearing the ride back to America. My brother send me a look, was he crying?
“We’ll be back.” He said, trying to get my little brother off his arm. I only nodded, glancing at the window as the plane went higher and higher and my sister cried harder.
“I know, but does it always get harder?” I asked, my sister turned to me and cried on my shirt. Later she would sleep and pretend it would never happen, like letting go would never be hard. Maybe I should do that too. Tears leaked down my face.
“Has it always been easy?” my brother asked, patting my crying little brother.
--
Because of family issues and money issues anon hasn’t returned to her homeland in two years since her last visit. Hope this was good for all of you. My Spanish is rusty since almost everyone speaks English here.
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