I’m writing out of what could probably be a very out-of-place anger. I know everyone has the undeniable right to pursue his or her own happiness. So undeniable and common-sense is this right, that it was included in the U.S. Passport (it’s a small quote from some forefather dude who spoke nicely enough to be quoted in a passport design). The pursuit of happiness is, in short, one of the few things that every sentient being should be allowed.
My father shipped away some years ago (I think 5, to be as accurate as possible) to the mainland U.S. to search for his own happiness. His contracting business here was not working as well as it used to: maybe a symptom of what would later become a nation-wide meltdown of the economy. I was surprised, though, that he bought into the widespread myth that “things in the U.S. are better than in Puerto Rico”. The last few years have proved that the puertorican’s inability to adapt to a recession has been the lifeboat of some U.S. franchises and companies (Dennys, Sears – to name a few). While the American’s purchasing habits have been deeply altered by the steep fall of the market, puertoricans remain blissfully oblivious and spend entire days at the mall buying things they don’t need to make them feel better about the problems they think they don’t have. Things are fucked up all around, but Puerto Rico is trapped in a bubble of delusion that has kept the boat afloat.
So, why am I angry?, you might ask. I truly believed my dad could make it fine out there. First there was Texas, then Fort Myers, and now Orlando. The stories in all these places have been the same: he scrounges for jobs, some directly related to what he used to do as a contractor, others way below what a man with 2 Master Degrees should be doing for a living. All of this, just so he can barely scrape by… all of this just so he can pay the debts that have been piling up for months and years, all of this to follow a dream that, from where I’m standing, has been long defunct. Changing places to “have a better life” almost never works like that: the things that truly make you unhappy will follow you wherever you go.
Dad went away looking for I don’t know what, running from something that was never very clear to me. I wanted to empathize and be supportive, and I think I HAVE, most of the while. Today I received a few forwarded pictures, though, and I realized something that is clearer and stronger than any pursuit for material wellness or “peaceful community living” could ever be: Dad moved away and he took away with him the opportunity to grow old among the ones that love him. He left with his wife, who no doubt adores him (which is the only solace I get out of this situation: her unconditional love and support of him is what has kept him alive, and for that I am grateful)… but the rest of us are here. Sons, daughters, grandkids, all of us missing them terribly, and needing from them the one thing they could always muster in droves: emotional support, presence, peace, a temple, a place to come home to.
I miss that, I miss what was home: a place that no longer exists, that was left behind in “10 Years Ago”. I miss my Dad, I miss his wife… a phone call can keep me posted on what’s going on, but it can NEVER relay a hug. I’m missing my dad growing old … I think this hurts as much as never seeing your own child grow up. And Dad, even though he knows what’s going on with us, is missing us growing into full-on adults, the true product of the seeds he planted for years.
I think that somewhere along the way he lost sight of the real wealth that counts in life: it’s not so much about having the perfect house, a job that earns well, an organized and peaceful neighborhood. The real wealth is being able to spend your life surrounded by the people you love and who love you. The real wealth is not missing the things that will give you a richer and happier death, when you start remembering what your life was like.
Maybe this is a temper tantrum of mine… maybe I have no right to ask.
… or maybe it IS an inalienable right: the right to enjoy your parents will you can.
January 31st, 2009 at 11:38 pm
It might have been a tantrum of yours, but I had the exact same reaction to the pictures. As a result, I’m kind of dreading my trip now, as sad as that may be.
It’s funny, how mom and dad always imparted their tender care and firm hand with the idea that they could not sit idle while one of their children dived headlong into perdition. Now, we’re supposed to sit idle and watch this. Moreover, we’re expected to be supportive.
This is one of the two people who inspire awe in our immediate family (at least, one of the TWO who inspire awe in me…. the other one is mom, truth be told, as corny as it is)…how do you tell that person to stop banging their head against the wall?