Being the daughter of an immigrant, I always lived with the Big Question, especially after I actually went to visit my mother’s hometown.
The Question: What would my life had been like if my mother had never left Portugal?
As a child, it was obvious that my mother had left some kind of loving Shangri-La of magically bilingual relatives, cakes, and people who knew that you should put shoes out on Christmas Eve. Wouldn’t it be awesome to live near seven uncles? To have extended relatives under the age of 70? I mean, my grandma was an angel, but in her mid-70’s, she was not the greatest candidate for a game of tag.
As I grew older, I came to appreciate that had my mother never seen California, I probably would not have had the education and opportunities I have had. Not that my life is perfect, or it wouldn’t be nice to actually know my cousins, but I do appreciate my life in the United States. Even if that means yes, I live seven miles from the mall where there was, in fact, a gun rally.
Well, today, in my inbox, I have my answer. Portugal would’ve kicked my ass out anyway! Who knew that my mom wasn’t just ahead of the curve, but she was undercutting the middleman!? Read the rest of this entry