So Spring Break is over and done with and I have yet to hear any horror stories of kidnappings, sexual assaults or robberies. My friends that went on wild trips across the nation so I was worried about them. You know those types, right? The type that’s way too air headed for their own good? I have a few of those friends. I was very concerned for their safety but when I see their posts on facebook of their annoyance of being back home, I feel relieved. Everyone went home safely. That’s a good sign. For myself, being a resident student, I went back home to my family’s one-bedroom apartment in the suburbs. I’m sorry I don’t have wild adventures like those of my peers. But what I do have is the time that I can spend with my family that I often don’t have. My brother lives in the city, finishing his last semester in college where he’ll graduate with two degrees. He and I are close but we don’t often have time to hang out or chat. We’re both very busy so having spring break at the same time is a wondrous time.
Here at Saint Xavier, after a while, you’re heart grows fond of the home cooking. That struck a deep core in me when I went home to a wondrous home filled with the exotic aroma of my parent’s native homeland. My parents are old.My family is old. My mother and father are the age where they could very well be the grandparents of most of you readers. My father is on the cusp of retirement but continues to work to support our family. My mother works as well but due to the language and educational barriers of her immigration to the United States, she works at or even below minimum wage for an electric manufacturing company. I am very close with my father. He and I are very much alike in our attitudes. We are extremely sentimental when it comes to even the smallest of things. When my mother buys me a new pair of those Walmart plastic sandals, I am overjoyed at the comfort that they bring to me, knowing they were gifts from my mother. My father yearns and weeps for the moments when he sees my brother off at the train station like some late nineties melodrama. I must confess that I too have a fondness for the bittersweetness of a train station. There’s something about its quiet steps and its smooth empty platform that draws a sense of goodbye and the promise of an, “I’m back”.
For me, I am back, back at Saint Xavier. I am ready for the spring and to see my friends again. So, until next time.