Cuentos, Familia

Cry Now, Smile Later

When I was a junior in college I took a creative writing course called bilingual autobiography. We wrote daily in the class and I still have my journal. Some of the prompts were things like “describe the last time you heard a mariachi.” Our final story for the course was something that stemmed from the prompt, “write about something that you can laugh about now, but was tragic or very upsetting at the time.”

I wrote about getting caught cheating on a test in eighth grade. My co-conspirator was my crush. It had everything a YM Say Anything tale of woe and embarrassment was made of: humiliation in front of peers, a kinda scary authority figure, bad judgment, even worse luck, and a crush there to see the whole thing. In my case, my crush was also getting in trouble. I worked on my story all quarter and was very proud of the final draft. I still have it in a box put away somewhere.

The tragicomic story has been on my mind a lot lately. I grew up hearing my parents tell stories about their childhoods in ways that made us kids roar with laughter. When my dad’s family migrated from Guanajuato to the US they settled initially in Texas. There, my grandpa Bartolo was a ranch hand on a farm. My dad’s tales of the time involved busting up bales of hay to find snakes and going to a school where all the white kids talked about fun summer activities that were foreign to him. They didn’t stay in Texas too long. When they left my grandma’s brother came to help them move. My dad was forced to part with his beloved dog, Blue Boy. The dog didn’t fit in his uncle’s station wagon. The car was already full of the family of 8 people. Perhaps it was 9. I don’t remember if my dad’s youngest two sisters were born yet.

I had my own recent situation that I could only laugh at because it’s too ridiculous to cry over. After finally rebooking some flights from last summer, I had to postpone a family trip to Disney World because of COVID. Coincidentally, the first cancellation for an LA trip in August 2021 was also due to COVID. After 2.5 years it finally got me in mid-September. I wasn’t too bummed although I had to spend my anniversary weekend isolated and feeling crummy. We were able to postpone a few weeks and save some money by altering our hotel plans.

As our trip approached, I started looking closely at the news about Hurricane Ian. Ultimately, we opted to cancel the trip. The kids understood, knowing that it was all out of our control and ultimately cancelling a trip is not a big deal when others are suffering the impact of the storm.

They’re clamoring for when we’ll reschedule this family vacation. I don’t know. Maybe the fourth time will finally be the charm we need.

For now, I’ll just make TikToks, laugh, and be thankful that although we didn’t take the trip(s) we’re safe and have recovered from mild bouts with COVID (yay for all being fully vaccinated and boosted!). I realized long ago that I need to be able to laugh in these situations to cope. It’s what my parents taught me.

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