The day I left my birthplace.

I was only 17 years old. My mother had already warned me that she would not sign the permit to allow me to leave the country at 17, for which I was angry, feeling that she was, of course, as usual, trying to control me.

Went to the City Center, to the Embassy of the United States, and got a visa. I was lucky enough to get a visa, well, the person I went with was already a back-and-forth traveler and he sort of served as a help, no doubt, but also, it was my determination, the magic I had created when I decided that nothing or no one would get on the way to my future. No one, ever. I was so young, so innocent and oblivious to the fact that I had never been away from my family, my mother, my brother, and my two sisters.

I woke up that morning, the morning of my scheduled departure for the United States for America, I was radiant and full of excitement, I mean full of happiness: I had, no doubt, materialized an international trip out of thin air, truly...and finally the moment was here. Wow. My mother called a friend who was to take us, mother, sister, brother, and myself, to the airport.

We got to the airport and all-of- a -sudden, just like that, an overwhelming feeling of fright, sadness and desperation came over me: I was leaving. I had never been apart from my mommy, much less my brother or sisters, in fact, I had never been away from the home I grew up in, which was, all I had ever known, all the life I had ever experienced. I was crying uncontrollably, loud and tears were clouding my vision, no matter how often, how fast I dried my eyes. It was a form of death, I tell you, a test of one’s courage, of one’s ability to face fear and adapt at the same time. I died on that plane, I totally died and was born again, not a physical death, mind you, but a spiritual one, the kind that stays with you for good.

The rest is history: married three times, happily the last one, became a Grateful Dead follower, called a “Deadhead”, travel the country, later the world, lived in The Netherlands for a year.

Studied at the local community college, took a major called International Studies, I lack the Math, but got the Languages done no problem.

Mom and I have gone through several stages throughout my life here in America. I went to visit a couple of times and the visits turned out to be a total disaster. My mother and I argued and everything went awful, just awful…long story short, I haven’t bee in my country of birth in 27 years.

Needless to say, mommy misses me incredibly, as I am the only one, well, myself and daughter, the only ones here, yes, my whole family is back where I came from. This year, I plan a trip down there. I cannot wait, it’s almost like a dream. It doesn’t seem real. It’s been so long since I visited last.

This time it’ll be different, though. I’m 56 years old, “old and in the way”, as Jerry Garcia would put it, I’m more mature now, wiser, calmer, more objective. I love my family, I never really stopped, I just was the one who decided to sacrifice family to pursue the dream of a better life in the land of the free, and the home of the brave. It’s been totally worth it, it’s been beautiful, frightening and intense, but it’s been the best part of my life. Thank you for reading.