Two blogs in one day- it's a record. I'm finishing "touch ups" on the silver leafing in my room today and I have to wait until the glue dries. Meanwhile, my dad is doing some landscaping outside and I'm listening to him talk to a day laborer and the conversation makes me smile. He's sharing his personal story of crossing the border to escape a communist country (in my dad's case it's Romania). Don't really know if it's PC to encourage an illegal immigrant, but from one immigrant to another the lines get blurred.
My dad's original attempt to escape RO ended up with him getting caught and spending 18 months in jail. When he actually did leave the country, it was with my mother and 3 kids and a miraculous assignment of visas' at the airport. My mom was pregnant at the time and they spent a few months at a refugee camp in Austria (where my sister was born) before coming to America. This was back in '78 and the following year I was born in Chicago.
There's something nostalgic and just a little bittersweet about thinking of where my parents were and where they are now. They didn't know a lick of English when they arrived, but have managed to adapt to American culture, language and carve out a bit of that dream for themselves. The bittersweet part comes in when I think about how I want my life to be improved compared to my parents. It is sad to think of my life in terms of school, work, marriage, family and the end. (The latter 3 not happening yet of course). With all fairness, my life has taken some different turns from the "typical" with traveling and mission work, but still would love to pave the way as a free thinker.
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