Meanwhile, Back in Puebla
My family back in Mexico was much different than here. We would send little trinkets to him. We would send letters. Whenever someone was able to go back to Mexico, we would send something back with them to give to the family. That stopped happening though after my grandmother died. We couldn’t even go see her when she was dying. We couldn’t go see her grave or her funeral.
In the time that I have been here, 19 years, I’ve had my great grandfather die, my great grandmother die, my great uncle die, and a couple of other cousins die. The sad thing is that these relatives died and you can’t see them ever again because if I were to go back, I wouldn’t have been allowed back in to the United States. The saddest part was that my great grandmother died thinking that we would be able to see her, and that she would be able to see us in the future.
The last time I talked to my great grandmother, I can still remember it. She had signs of early dementia, but she could still recognize my voice. She was talking to me and that is when it hit me hard that this was the last time I would ever talk to her, just because I was not going to see her again.
My mom wanted to go back to Mexico to see her Mom before she passed, but my dad told her, “if you go back, whose going to raise the kids?” My youngest brother was born here, so he is a citizen and would be allowed to stay in the States, but if my mom went back to Mexico, he would have to grow up without his mom.
“If you go back, whose going to raise the kids?”