Alone…. a little
When a Latino moves away, I mean far away… all the way to Santa Barbara-way. The world hits you hard.
Remember your Latina mom that washed your clothing and cooked for you, and that every time she did you had to reprimand her and tell her that she shouldn’t. The reason was because she should do something for herself and also that when you do move away you wouldn’t know how to do anything. That was a long battle for me, even when I moved out to the north side of Chicago she’d want me to bring my dirty clothes home… of course I negotiated, I did it once a month. Here in Cali this option doesn’t work, air and ground is too expensive. Half the battle I won in Chicago, the other battle was fought alone here in Califas.
Moving away is having to learn to do things alone. I hate eating alone, watching tv/movies alone, working out alone, and s-l-e-e-p-i-n-g alone.
You always see those old people at the diners, alone, or at the grocery store buying stuff, alone. I always said I didn’t want to become like them, but you know what, I can see how it happens. I just have to say, I may be doing things alone, but I don’t have to like it or get used to it. I’m not dependent or anything like that, I just really like to share things I do with my friends, family, and other loved ones.
