Monthly Archives: February 2007

My Birthdays – Nelson/Roberto

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Yesterday was a friend of mines birthday. We went out to eat for 3 hours and had lots of fun. I love getting together like this for birthdays and my birthday. However this wasn’t always the case. Growing up I never knew my real birthday and it always bugged me that everyone else knew there’s. Some people even knew the exact time of birth. I had no idea. I used to look at calendar and feel like it was blank.

I did have a birthday that my adoptive parents gave me when I was adopted. Growing up this is what we celebrated but it always felt so …hollow and fake. Even thought we had cake and everything it never felt like it was mine. Don’t get me wrong I still enjoyed my birthdays and of course loved the presents…who doesn’t?

Looking back on it now I think those feeling of emptiness were really part of something bigger. Your birthday while not being terribly important to the in larger scheme of life is an important part of your identity. Its something so simple that people take for gran it. Whenever someone asked how old I was I would say something like “I’m 15…I think” It was that little bit of uncertainty that bothered me so much. I could be 15 or 14 or 16. I never knew.

Now that I know when my birthday is, I developed a sense of pride when I tell people. After 16 years of uncertainty it feels so good to be able to look someone in the eye and say I was born on may 22, 1981 at 2pm in San Salvador. I think that why I make such a big deal of it now and the fact that I have two birthdays. I’ll joke with friends and say “today is my second birthday what did you get me?” Of course they always come back with “you only get one” Hey it doesn’t hurt to try.

A Little bit of Mama Chila – by Mireya

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Mamá Chila is my grandmother, as my cousin Eva said she’s really a loving and caring, Mother and Grandmother. So delicate and small, with wrinkles from all the hard blows she had received in her life. But every time she has known how to rise above it, how to get trough it. She’s a leader, she always has been the center of the family and the motor who move it. So it was hard for me as a granddaughter to see such a powerful women, fall into the deepest of sadness. This happened when her great-grandchild was killed. I’m talking about Renecito, a beautiful, smart and healthy kid, who’s tragic death brought the family together. At the funeral, I saw a different Mamá Chila. She was in a deep thought.

Probably remembering the death of her son René, whom as fate would have it died in similar circumstances. That day I thought that she would become ill and I feared that she could not live with that suffering. The days following, while Renecito’s mother Eugenia, was recovering Mamá Chila was so sad. Deep in thought as if she was looking for an reason it happened. As if she was wanting to find the meaning of it all. Trying to turn back time and erase all the pain. Once Eugenia, was back from the hospital, resting and recovering, Mamá Chila began recovering too. Her vitality, energy and happiness returned. I never really lived with my grandmother before.

The last time was when we traveled to Costa Rica all those years ago to meet my cousin Roberto. This time I got to spend more time with her, so I could get to know her a little more. Once again I saw a strong, tenacious woman, who wakes up at 6 in the morning even on Sundays, and she fall sleep at 7 at night. As I said in the beginning, she is the foundation of our family. We all have a little piece of her inside us. I can´t imagine my life with anyone other than Mamá Chila.

Leaving Tomorrow – by Nelson/Roberto

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June 06

Where’d you go?
I miss you so,
Seems like it’s been forever,
That you’ve been gone.
Where’d you go?
I miss you so,
Seems like it’s been forever,
That you’ve been gone,
Please come back home…

Its about 10 or 11 at night and I’m laying in bed listening to Fort Minor’s “Where’d You Go?” Estefany is laying next to me sharing the earphones. She is crying softly. I hate to see my sister cry. She is almost 15 and she still cries every time I leave. I wish I could stay. I wish I could spend more time with her and with everyone else. This time it even harder to say goodbye because I know I won’t be back for maybe a year.

Sometimes I feel like I am always saying goodbye, that I am always missing someone. I wondering why does it have to be like this? Why must I always be leaving tomorrow? I don’t want to. Maybe its because we missed so much already and I don’t want to miss anymore. Maybe its because life seams so much simpler here. Part of me just wants to stay but the other parts knows this is not my place. How are you supposed to choose between the ones you love? I know its hard on them as well.

Its the next morning and we are standing at the bus station. I’ve loaded my bag onto the bus. I’m almost already to head back to Costa Rica and soon after back to he US. My father sister and stepmother are here to see me off. I said goodbye to my brother this morning before he started working. My father holds me tight not wanting to let go, not wanting the moment to end. I know the feeling well.

As the bus pulls away I look back, watching them for as long as I can. As much as I hate sitting, here I know I’ll be back. Nothing is going to keep me away.