The Lighthouse Keeper
I’m not a hero or a victim. I am a survivor; a survivor of this relentless world; made up of terrorism, heroes dying, school shootings, and people searching to find who they are. I want to know who I’m supposed to be and what my purpose will be. I know there is no black or white; just shades of grey. It’s hard to understand why things happen but believing there is a light at the end of the tunnel helps to explain why I believe in hope after my absent mother left four children behind and never came back and my brother was diagnosed with cancer.
I sometimes dream of meeting her, my mother. What would I say? Will I recognize her? Can I forgive her? I was supposed to be the most important person in the world to her. She was supposed to take care of me, make me laugh, hold me when I cry, stand up for me, and teach me wrong from right. She was supposed to be my mom. I wait for birthday cards, phone calls, or even a visit but it has not happened and part of me knows it will not.
My family learned to be whole without her. My dad became the light that is brighter than the pain of my absent mother. One of fourteen siblings, Martin grew up in Mexico, and came to the United States at fifteen years old. It was painful seeing my father work hard to make a meager living. I worried in the supermarket checkout line that our groceries would be too expensive and my father wouldn’t have enough money. I worried we would freeze during winter without heat, or I wouldn’t play basketball because shoes cost too much. Socially, school was a challenge. It was very difficult to transition from a responsible adult at home to a child in school. Being a Latina, my skin was too dark to be white and not dark enough to be Hispanic. I felt like I had to be everything to everyone.
Just when my life was coming together, my brother was diagnosed with stage four acute lymphoblastic leukemia. Eighty- five percent of his body was covered with cancer and the prognosis was dire. I remember crying and hearing my dad’s knock at the door. “Is everything okay?” he asked, “No, what if something happens and he doesn’t make it?” I answered. He sadly looked at me and said “It’s going to be okay, God has a plan.” My world became silently still. I knew I had to be strong just like my dad. He didn’t know what would happen to his son but he knew he had three other kids to protect and love, so he stayed strong. I know my dad is the best even as he lies to me everyday. He lies about money, that he’s not tired, and he’s happy. He lies to protect me but his lies have become a light of hope to shut out the darkness.
I am a survivor that has sailed through rough waters in my eighteen years yet I see a light in my path. I can’t do it alone but I have my family. My faith is my light and everything I hold dear is my lighthouse. I am the lighthouse keeper, and I want to share my hope with others who go without light.
