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Today, while passing our last minutes before the period ended, my English teacher asked us to state something we believe to be true. Expected responses followed: we are really here and present at the moment; what we can touch, smell, see, hear is all real; only things that can be proven can be considered legitimate; etc.The teacher gazed around the room, hoping to encourage more students. Her gentle eyes landed on mine, and I smiled self-consciously. Sure, Almost immediately after the question, a single idea had popped into my head, but I wasn't about to say it. During those fifteen seconds of eye contact, other conversations had started up. She returned my smile, and places a hand on the nearest chatterbox. The murmurs ceased and all eyes rested on me. "Well, uh," I stumbled, " I believe that my parents love is boundless." At once, dissent spread among the students along with disinterest. "Eh"s and "Not really"s were thrown around the room before leading into another unrelated topic. I stared incredulously at the unassuming teens sprawled on the couches that replace our desks.
But it made me wonder. Think. And of course, doubt myself. At the end of the school day, I called my mother. My bottom lip was swollen from all the ruminating. As always, she picked up in a preppy voice that quickly got to the point. "Ya, Nina?" Are you ready? I hesitated for a moment, before explaining the day's events briefly. "If I killed someone, would you still love me? No matter what I did?" My throat tightened as I anxiously awaited her response. Sure enough, it came as strong and confidently as always. "Yeah," she agreed as if doing otherwise was absurd "No importa que hagas, o como salgas, te amare." No matter what you do, or how you run out, I'll always love you. I nodded numbly, fully aware we were talking over the phone. "Yeah, I'm ready." I responded to her previous question.
Unexpectedly, as her little red van turned the corner, I noticed it wasn't my mom in the front seat, but my dad. Similarly, I informed him of today's experience in English, also using killing someone as an example, but he, like my mom, reassured me. "Pero nomás porque te quiero no significa que te voy a esconder de la policía. Lo tanto que te amo, lo tanto tienes que pagar por lo que hiciste." But just because I love you, doesn't mean I'll hide you from the police. All that I love you, you need to pay for what you did.
But it also made me wonder, what kinds of horribly empty lives are those kids leading to so adamantly shoot me down without the slightest hesitation? And it was at that moment that I realized how lucky I am, how many times I've betrayed my parents, how regularly I fall short of their expectations, how arrogantly I take their presence as a given, and how, no matter what twisted words I throw their way, or how presumptuously I act, they have never faltered.
I don't know, guys, it just left me in such awe that I had to write about it somewhere. So here this is.
 Polyester Dreams · Tue Jan 22, 2013 @ 11:47pm · 0 Comments |
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