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The Price Immigrants Pay
Leaving your country for a good life is not fun.
In one gut-wrenching moment in the documentary “Cuba with a Cameraman” a four-year-old girl in New York gets to go to see her grandmother in Cuba for the first time in her life. The girl’s mother breaks down in tears of joy on reuniting with her mother.
They were Cuban exiles whom Fidel Castro allowed returning to the country for a visit.
I am a free woman.
Unlike a Cuban exile, I can go home whenever I want. But there is a catch. I can’t.
When I see my German friends visit home for Christmas, easter, weekend, and laundry, I shudder a little inside. Maybe enough is far more often than I think.
How often is a visit to your aging parents often enough? Once a year for a week? twice a year for a week? thrice?
When I hear colleagues talk about their six visiting grandchildren, I think about my parents alone at home with most young of the family and extended family overseas. They have no doors open for young Ideas. Doesn’t that make you age faster?
Last night, I explained to my mother how to log in to her Gmail for a half-hour over WhatsApp video. It was exasperating. I don’t want to be the monster who only calls once a day to be rude.
