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1990's. Light Rain. Gloomy Skies. Only the tip of the Columbian Tower peeping thru the grey clouds ☔️☔️☔️
My father came to Seattle in the early 90’s in hopes of generating a higher income and work in the restaurant industry with a few of his cousins that were already established in the greater Seattle area. He had previously spent the past 5-7 years working long days on the fields of northern California – he knew his body was in need of a break. By the time I came around in 1995, my parents had both lived a novel of a journey with my two older siblings to get established in esta jaula de oro.
Living south of Seattle, in Blvd. Park, meant we usually didn’t pass the I-90 for anything. But, on those rare occasions we went north of I-90 and drove thru the city, we heard the same story every time. All of my earliest memories of downtown Seattle are centered around a single phrase my father always repeated, “Cuando de primero llegue a Seattle, mi primer trabajo fue limpiando oficinas en ese edificio alli.” He would say as he pointed at the Columbian Tower.
It’s wild how our parents can say simple things like that, but we can feel the pain, struggle and journey that got them there. My older siblings constantly rolled their eyes each time we heard my father tell us about his first job in Seattle and I know it’s because of the long conversation that happened afterwards. My father wanted more for us, he wanted us to one day be those big execs with the office with the best view.
He felt so much pride in being able to say that he once worked in one of the then, fanciest, and tallest buildings in Seattle. Imagine what it must have felt like to go from growing up on a rancho to now being in the city? Being my usual Pisces self, I dived deep into what my father was feeling.
I always knew that I would feel like I made it, once I worked in one of those big, tall downtown Seattle buildings. Throughout my 5-year legal career I have worked in three different Seattle sky-rises and each time, I get the same feeling as I’m going up the elevator for the first time. As my right foot walks ahead of my left foot, I feel like I’m walking into something that wasn’t meant for me, yet I am taking it without asking for permission. I can feel the hard work and difficult journey my father took to get us to Seattle. All of that felt as if it were my pain. I walk into these buildings and own it.
I am my father’s wildest dreams. I am a manifestation of what he wished his children would be like, back in 1990. I am his hopes and product of his dedication. I never walk into those buildings alone. On that first elevator ride up the big fancy buildings, I am taken back to my 5-year-old self, sitting in the back of our old family car hearing my father, once again, tell us all about how he worked as a custodian in the Columbian tower. I am a walking manifestation and I do not hold back.
En nombre del padre y el hijo y del Espíritu Santo...
says my mother as she lightly touches my forehead and proceeds con la benidicion
what’s more powerful;
The safety my mother provides or
The belief that I am now suddenly blessed
Enitrely Blessed by my mother’s grace
Que dios te acompañé
She tells me, so I don’t feel alone
My mother;
Do you not realize that I would much rather have you guide me through this journey?
No me dejes ir
I think to myself
But i know i must go
Her hands tired from decades of working
Las flores no se venden solas
She says to me
Pero mamá;
If i make the American dream happen
Que va ser de ti
You are alone here
All the money in the world to send to you
But I’d much rather have you here
en está jaula de oró
~~~~~~~
Los años
Pasan tan pronto
Lo hice para darte una mejor vida
Lo hice por mi hijos y un futuro mejor
Pero la vida nos pasó
The sacrifices I made for my children
for my mother and father i left back home
En el nombre del padre y todo que es sagrado
te imploro que esté viaje y la jaula de oró
valga la pena
🌵🦅❤️