Change is an interesting thing — sometimes it happens while you're not watching. You start eating a small piece of chocolate as a snack and suddenly you're craving sugar. You start walking 20 minutes after a big meal and your energy improves, your knees ache a little less. Small changes, sometimes imperceptible, compound and can alter the course of your life, your health, your wellbeing.
Other times, change hits you right in the face. You are aware of what's coming and it's humbling. You know that life as you knew it stops, and everything is about to be anew.
We had an appointment at the Consulate. Up until then, the possibility of moving to the States was just that — a possibility. It may or may not happen. You may or may not move to a city you've never visited. Pack and go to a place where the closest person you know and care about is at least a six-hour drive away. It's just you, your husband, and your kid. But it may or may not happen.
Then suddenly, the appointment is over. You're at a restaurant waiting for your food, your husband has stepped away, and amidst the murmur of the crowd, you hear a bird sing. You find it in the tree — and you just start crying. Crying with the same weight you'd carry if someone you loved had just passed. You want to soak everything in: the sounds, the people, the foooood. You know you have just lived one of the biggest inflection points of your life. You can't fully grasp the repercussions yet, what it will mean for you, your family, the people you love.
Be grateful. Be kind. Be patient with yourself.
For a while it'll feel like you're neither from there nor from here. But one day you'll board a flight back home — and it will actually feel like going back home.
One random day, you'll listen to your boy playing by himself in English, and the house filled with laughter you used to yearn for will come to life again.
You'll still feel that pieces of you are missing, because they were left behind. But you'll also grow — and slowly realize that your world expanded, and there are new pieces of you being formed. To your own dismay, some words and thoughts will flow easier in English — you'll start an intimate battle against Spanglish. They won't replace the old ones. But it'll still be enough. You will still be enough.
The years that followed were a roller coaster — big highs, low lows. The path wasn't easy, but it was rewarding, and I wouldn't change a thing.
Today, I'd like to hug and thank you, the woman who sat there crying — to tell you how brave you are, and that the sacrifice has been worth it. That your son will become one of the bravest people you know. That you'll get a daughter who will fill your life with so much joy. That your marriage will grow stronger. That you'll meet new, beautiful, amazing friends.
Your world just expanded — along with your heart.