By: Daniel Salcedo Rubio, Features Editor
It’s been over a year since I left my home country, and since then I’ve only seen my parents in-person two times. This past week I had the fortune of having my parents visit me here, in this new city I call home. While it was lovely being able to show them around town, my heart feels heavier than usual. This feeling goes beyond the fact that our time together has come to an end — I miss them, but I know what I’m feeling is not their absence, it’s the realization of the little amount of time we have left.
I don’t intend to sound overly dramatic, nor am I assuming the worst — both of my parents are in good health, hell, my dad even refers to himself as a bull. Still, it’s impossible to shake off the feeling that our time together is running out. During our trip back from Vancouver Island, my dad asked my mom, “How many years do you think we have left to keep traveling?” “I’m not sure, perhaps ten?” Ten years left of visits . . . I know it’s my anxiety talking; I shouldn’t hyperfocus on an uncertain future, and I know chances are I’ll get to see them more than I currently predict. Nonetheless, I can’t stop myself from spiralling down this train of thought. There are still so many things left for me to know, so many stories left untold, so many thoughts I need to write down, to preserve in a place my memory will not lose.
To you, I might sound a bit too dramatic, like I’m exaggerating our lack of remaining time, but I come from a culture where family sticks together tightly, and it’s rare for families to physically grow apart. The distance has only fed my anxiety. Despite being so close, there are so many things I willingly shut down — conversations I killed well before they were even thoughts. Growing up knowing I’m not straight was a bit paradoxical for me. I grew up with the idea that my family would always be the pillar to support me when needed, yet, I found myself building a back-up just in case the main “pillar” crumbled at the news of my sexuality. I know I did it to protect myself, because, even if it was the tiniest part of me, I thought there would come a day where I would have to part ways with my parents. Now that they’re reaching out, I can’t help but feel regret at the amount of time I wasted.
I’ve always known they’ve done everything for my own good, or at least for their version of my own good. I don’t say this in a bitter way — they truly did their best with the tools they had at their disposal and for that I’m eternally grateful. Despite their good intentions, I still ended up distancing myself from them. Now, I find myself wanting to let them into all aspects of my life, and want to treasure every moment I’ll ever have with them — even the things I used to find annoying just a couple years ago. I miss hearing my dad’s outrageous laugh from the other side of the house, and I miss seeing him at my door ready to throw a pillow at my face. I miss hearing my mom’s rants about her everyday life, and how she would obsessively stroke my hair no matter how many times I asked her to stop.
I’m well aware that the majority of time I’ll ever get to spend with my parents has passed, but in this mix of grief and anxiety I’ve come to find a deeper appreciation for any moment I spend with them. I’ll gladly accompany my mom to the market at 7:00 a.m, and help my dad with his English whenever he’s struggling. I’ll rewatch Shrek for the hundredth time just to hear my parents laugh at the same jokes every time.
This piece is not meant to tell you to mend things with your parents, to try to have the best possible relationship with them, or ignore any pain they might have caused. I actually don’t want to give any tips. But, despite me not wanting to give any form of advice — in part because I doubt I have anything meaningful to give — I do wish you a deeper sense of awareness on how fleeting relationships can be. One year you’re used to seeing someone every day and planning activities together every other week, but the next year you may only get to hear their voice through your phone and see their faces through a video call. Do whatever feels right for you, but don’t take the time you have left for granted.
