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@lilmsthang
“He just seemed so nice and normal when we were young. He had a high profile job. We were super spoiled. He always hugged me. Always told me he loved me. Always taught me things and encouraged me. But I guess the whole time he had a drug problem. He started yelling at my mom when I was five or six. It would happen all the time. Then when I was eight years old, I walked in on him beating her for the first time. She was all bruised up and crying. He looked like he wanted to kill her. We left a few years later. Mom woke us up in the middle of the night, packed our bags, and took us outside. I remember she flagged down a random car. My father ran after us in the street, begging me to stay, just me. We got a restraining order the next day. And after that, I barely spoke to him anymore. I hated him for what he did to my mom. But a few months ago he had a bad stroke, and now he’s living in a rehab center in a ghetto part of Toronto. He just sits around all day. He wears raggedy clothes. He doesn’t remember anything. Whenever I visit him, he says he wishes we could go back to when we were kids. He asks why my mom left him. Then he asks again. And again. He just seems heartbroken. It’s all very pathetic. I feel bad for him. It’s hard to stay mad at somebody who’s not really there anymore.” (Toronto, Canada)
as you get older, you realize that you’re not always right and there’s so many things you could’ve handled better, so many situations where you could’ve been kinder and all you can really do is forgive yourself and let your mistakes make you a better person.
“My mother was getting old and couldn’t work anymore. We never knew where our next meal was coming from. I had a job cleaning houses, but the pay was horrible. So when I was given the opportunity to come to Spain, I knew I had to take it. But the day that I left was horrible. I’d never been outside of Ecuador. I’d never been apart from my mother. Both of us were crying like children at the airport. I had no idea what I’d find when I arrived. My plan was to make a little money, come home, and start a business, maybe a food stand. Just a little something to make our lives easier. Soon after arriving in Spain, I found work cooking and cleaning at a summer camp. It was in the mountains. It was very isolated. But they were kind to me. They gave me extra jobs and allowed me to stay during the offseason. It was very lonely, but I spoke to my mother every day. And I was able to send home almost all the money I made. After seven years I received my residency papers, and I was finally able to go home for a visit. I’d wanted to surprise my mom, but she has high blood pressure, so I told her I was coming. She was standing in the doorway when I arrived. She held me for the longest time. Everything had changed. The house had been empty when I left. Now there was furniture: chairs, sofas, two beds instead of one. A new stove. A fridge full of food. A television, not even one with knobs. It had a real remote. We stayed up all night talking. I told her all about Spain. Eventually I was able to bring her here. We live together now. I see her every day. And I’m working as a home health aide. So if anything happens, I can take care of her.” (Barcelona, Spain)
Happy 49th Birthday Tony!! (May 29 1970- 2023)
The Return of the Mona Lisa to the Louvre after the War, Paris, 1945