Saturday, February 8, 2014

I Am Enough by Lady Chacha

Back when Miss Monday was truly a Miss at the tender age of 19, after I had dropped out of school to help support my sister and my sister's family... after I nursed my nephew through three different body casts and missed my homecoming, prom and graduation, I found myself working at a major discount store chain as a cashier.

I helped my Mom make ends meet in a tidy little condo. Not long after I worked at this store,. (I'll give you a hint... it starts with a M and ends in arshall's) I received word that my Abuelito (grandpa) was in the hospital, terminally ill with cancer. So, I would grab rides and go visit him when I could, and I got to speak to him before he had deteriorated to the point of not being able to speak. I apologized for having been a burden to him, when he just starting to get ill, sorry for being in the way... apologies that didn't need to be made really.

I wasn't responsible for having been dumped in his life, in his home. But what do you say to someone you know is dying? Someone who has always been stern and hard on you, for reasons that you don't really understand? That's when he started gesturing in that way he had and told me... “Cuando un arbol esta cresciendo, y tu ves que esta cresciendo mal, que esta chueco, lo amarras con hule y lo enderezas para que se cresce bien.” which means... “When a tree is growing, and you see it growing wrong, it's coming out crooked, you tie it down with straps and you straighten it out so it will grow right.” I nodded and smiled, patted his hand and let someone else talk to him while I tried to figure out what exactly he meant by that. It was true, he was tough on me, always. Out of all the granddaughters, it could be said I was the least favorite. I came to grips with that. But this tree analogy was a new one on me. What exactly had to be straightened out? I was a family girl. I took care of my family, looked out for them and gave of myself. I didn't do drugs, I didn't have sex yet. I didn't drink or party every weekend. I wasn't knocked up.

The only thing I could think of was that I was not  the Catholic he thought I should be. I wasn't married, I wasn't cooking and cleaning like a good Mexican woman. I wasn't fitting into his idea of what a Mexican woman should be. Now, tradition is a good thing. It helps us retain our roots, keeps us reminded of where we come from. But when Tradition and someone's expectations in relation to Tradition makes them blind to what is in front of them, then that's just wrong.

There was nothing wrong with me. There IS nothing wrong with me. I'm loving, kindhearted, fiercely loyal. For years, I've carried around this invisible expectation with me... like a heavy chain around my neck. It kept me from lifting my head and really seeing what is in front of me. There was a part of me that wanted to fulfill his expectations. I wanted his approval. I don't have many men in my life to speak of, it would have been nice to have had someone's approval. I didn't need to be staked and straightened, Abuelito. I needed to be seen for who I am, encouraged to be the best me I could be... and I needed to be loved. Disappointments and failures, this is life. You wanted me to be what you wanted. You wanted me to give you a good reflection. So you could say “that's my granddaughter”.

Life .Sorry Abuelo. This is for me. My life.
It's taken me twenty five years to realize this. It's taken me twenty five years of wanting someone who has been holding me to some ridiculous ideal to be proud of me... to realize I need to be proud of myself.
This life is for you.
Take it, live it and know that you're the best.
You are enough.

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