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December 17th, 2011 by Claudia SalvadorI‘ve barely seen my family this December, with essays and finals and all, but this Sunday Alyssa and I are going to their apartment to celebrate the little girl’s birthday! I am taking my sister with me: she has met the mother and son once before, but this will be her first time meeting the father and daughter, and since it’s going to be a family event, she will get to meet all of the aunts and uncles too.
The last time I was at my family’s home, we helped the girl with her homework. Alyssa had to leave a bit early, so I stayed and talked to the mother while she worked on knitting a hat for the girl. She told me it was going to be her birthday present, and I could see the satisfaction and pride she had on being able to give something to her daughter. She opened up to me about how difficult it was to leave her friends and family behind in Nepal and Bhutan, and how sad she feels about not having blood relatives nearby. The father has many relatives that live around the area.
As I was leaving, the little boy, like the time before, sat himself on the floor and spread wide his legs and arms in order to block me from reaching the door. I didn’t want to step over him, so the mother and I just stood laughing for a couple minutes. She reached down and scooped him up, and as I said my goodbyes, he started crying. The closer I walked to the door, the louder his wailing became, so I came back and tickled him and made him give me high fives until he quieted down. Finally, I told him goodbye in as cheerful a manner as I could in the hopes that he wouldn’t start crying again. The mother followed me to the door, and as I bid them goodbye for the last time, the little boy responded, half-teasing, “no bye, no bye,” over and over again, and refused to wave his hand. The mother and I laughed at this, but as I walked out of the apartment and down the hallway, the little boy’s wails followed me.