I was born in India. I sometimes forget that. What I mean by that is I am so American/Canadian that I sometimes forget that I am different from those around me. Color is only skin deep. Some people truly don’t see color… yet most do. It is always there… the differences… that awareness comes out with little comments. Comments that are not meant to be hurtful or offensive but yet still point out that there is a difference.
I was thinking of my parents and what they have lived through. Sometimes I forget… they had a whole life in India. They left that life to seek a new and maybe different life. I can’t image what it was like for them to move to a new country and have to learn life over again with a totally different owner’s manuel.
I get annoyed at their corks because for me being here is all I know. Yet for them it is and has been a learned skill set.
I can have this life as I know it simply because they gave me this life as I know today.
I can’t even imagine what it must have been like coming to Canada in the early 70s, leaving behind all their family and friends.
I wonder what it must have been like especially for my mom. My dad was not her dream husband, so she was all alone emotionally too.
It must have taken such strength to take on that adventure of a lifetime.
So many things were new and strange. My mom tells of how my dad and her saw a sign saying pants… 99 cents. They were quite excited. As they went into the “store” they were to discover the Dry-cleaners!
As I live life as only I have known, I have to stop and realize the sacrifices that my parents made so that I do enjoy life as I know it.