The Goodbye…

I remember the moment Juan and I decided to leave Illinois and move across the country to Colorado. It felt big but not necessarily permanent to me. I don’t think I was looking that far ahead. All I knew was, having gone to the same high school, growing outside of that familiar space seemed pretty impossible. Not only did we have the comfort of our friends and family but we had specific routines, habits and vices that came too easily in a setting where we knew nothing else. We were also at the point where having only one another to lean on would make or break us, and we were eager to find out what the verdict would be. Little did we know how quickly we would find out. But, as Titi always says, ‘anyway’... 

Afterall, this isn't a story about comparing my “big move” to my grandmother’s (as I wouldn’t call them remotely comparable)…this is a story about a hug. 

After we told our friends and family that we were planning to move just a few months later, it took a little bit for everything to sink in. I remember my grandmother’s reaction when I first told her, the classic passive aggressive truth disguised as a cute joke. Us Leo’s think we are pros at this. “I didn’t move all the way from Bolivia to start a family where everyone could be together and grow just for my granddaughter to grow up and leave.” Of course it was met with a laugh from both of us, but the sentiment rang true.  

Finally the day came for us to leave. Juan’s dad was driving the U-haul with him and my parent’s and I were taking my car. Both packed to the brim with whatever we deemed worthy to make the trip. I can’t tell you now what seemed important enough to drag nearly 100,000 miles with us but there is one moment right before we left that I will never forget. 

The morning we were driving out my grandmother stopped by to say a final farewell. It wasn’t unusual for her to come by in the mornings, especially on weekends or before big events. It was always very comforting waking up to her bringing brioche from the bakery or stopping in to wish me good luck or see me get ready for a school dance. This felt a little bit like a moment that had happened 100s of times before. I was still a little bright eyed and naive about the finality of the move. I was anxious and nervous and just speeding through to the next step of the process; so when she hugged me I was ready for a tight squeeze and then prepared to move onto the next thing. Her arms wrapped around me tightening and then I felt the weight of her little body just crumble into mine. It was then I heard a sob that I had never heard from her before. A heavy release that I later learned surprised even her. She held onto me tight, crying into my shoulder for what felt like several minutes. 

At the time the move itself was a big deal. I was the first child or grandchild to move further than an hour away, but looking back now I see it through a different lens. I wonder if in that moment she saw and felt it all. She saw her granddaughter that very much mirrored her when she left her home to move thousands of miles away. She knew I wasn’t coming back because she never did. Not that our journey was comparable, but our spirits are. Perhaps she felt the pain, fear and finality that her own mother felt many years before. When she held onto me and let it all out, let it all go, I felt she was letting go of a lot more than what was present in just that moment. Maybe just maybe she finally allowed herself to feel the weight of her own goodbye after all this time. 

Here we go… 

All the papers were ready, we had saved 1000 dollars, and after almost a year to get all of this done, everything was in place. We were ready to leave Bolivia and go to the United States. It was hard to say goodbye to some of our friends in Camirri, it was such a wonderful time in our lives. It was especially difficult to leave Rosa and Ida because I knew I would never see them again and they were so so good to me. It was probably around the end of October or early November that we went to Cochabamba first and then LaPaz waiting for all the papers and to begin to say goodbye to the family knowing that we won’t see them for a while. 

We really were taking quite a leap because we really didn’t know what we were going to go to. We knew we were going to stay with uncle Carlos but we didn’t even know him very well and didn’t have a plan much beyond that. We were taking the biggest chance of our life, the biggest risk of our life. Ralph was a year old and I was very pregnant. I wasn’t quite sure when my baby was due exactly but I went to the doctor and they said I could fly. So here we are, December 1st by now and we flew out of LaPaz. Henry’s parents had come over and both of our families were at the airport saying goodbye to us. There were a lot of tears. But anyways.. 

We were going from LaPaz to Arica which was from 15,000 feet above sea level to sea level in about 45 minutes which was really very hard on myself and Ralph. He and I both fainted. I don’t think they do that flight any more. But anyway here we are… Ralph had learned how to walk the day before we left, he was walking at the house and everyone was clapping for him and cheering him on so after that we couldn’t keep him still. He walked up and down the aisle of every plane we took. Falling down and getting back up again. This was a very long trip. It was a propeller at this time, no jets. The jets actually came about a month later. But here we are with a propeller plane. First we go to Chile, then we go to Lima, then to Panama then from Panama to Miami and Miami to Chicago. I can’t even imagine… I can barely remember the trip very much because I know it was extremely hard. Hard on me, on us as a family and specifically on Ralph, not being able to find disposable diapers, trying to change him and care for him. It was just extremely hard. And here we arrive in Chicago in the winter. We had just left LaPaz where it was summer but landed in the dead of winter there. Even if it had been winter, we had still never been to a cold this cold. We then took a train from Chicago to Elkhart Indiana where uncle Carlos was waiting for us. We arrived at this beautiful home, it was smaller but it had four bedrooms and they had it all ready for us.So here we are, finally in the United States in a very very cold winter.