I try, I really try to be a good immigrant so, when I have the opportunity, I share moments of joy or fun with others. Some times these moments grow into something else, normally into something better.
For instance, one day in January this year, at the book store, this lady was reading a magazine behind me. The color of her skin was what most of us call white. She had green eyes and spoke perfect English. I assumed this “American woman” probably didn’t notice my presence because when she was done reading, she moved towards me and hit me very lightly with her elbow.
She said “excuse me”.
I said “no worries, this is your country” in a comedic tone.
She probably liked my ironical expression. She looked at me straight to the eye and said “Thank you”.
After a pause, she asked for my name and what my job was. I answered and asked her the same questions. That is how the conversation started. At some point we discovered that we both love art, books, graphic design, real thrillers and that we both think that countries should not exist.
Since that day we texted profusely about how art is going to save the human race. We kept messaging until she died of cancer a week ago. As far as I know, she never felt sorry for me and a couple of times told me that she was glad I immigrated to this country.
I am going to miss her very much for a variety of reasons but specially because she helped me to confirm that friendship does not recognize labels like “immigrant”, “Mexican”, “Chinese” or anything along those lines. Yes, I will miss her, even though she died in her country!
June 16, 2018