Nancy shares how raising kids away from family and the village that helped raise her isn’t what she wanted, but it’s where she finds herself in this season of life.
Like many Mexican-American children, I grew up surrounded by my family. In my hometown of Odessa, Texas, I regularly saw my abuelitos, tías, tíos, and many primos. The rest of my family was within driving distance, mostly in Chihuahua and Ciudad Juárez. I saw my grandparents in Odessa almost every day; they helped to raise me. My mom worked full time, so my abuelita Maria was the one who went to my awards assemblies and school events during the day. It was rare for my parents, sister, and I to take vacations on our own. In fact, I only remember two trips where it was just the four of us. We always traveled with our extended family. When I moved to El Paso to work on my doctorate, I grew closer to both sides of my family, who were split between El Paso, Ciudad Juárez, and Chihuahua. And Odessa is only a four-hour drive away from El Paso, so it was easy to stay connected to my “chosen family,” my childhood friends, while I finished grad school.
Then in 2013, I moved to Charleston, South Carolina, leaving behind everyone I love, my “village.” I never planned to live on the east coast, but this is where I was offered a job after graduation. During my first years in Charleston the homesickness was REAL, but at least I could spend the Christmas and summer breaks in Texas. I stayed connected to my people and shared some of their major milestones, but all of that changed with the pandemic. I got pregnant in late 2020, so I had to stay mostly isolated the entire pregnancy. My sister in Texas was amazing, and she planned a virtual baby shower. It was so nice receiving packages from my loved ones, but not being able to celebrate my pregnancy in person with my family really stung I didn’t realize that this would be my reality from that point forward; I’d be raising my kids without my “village.”
It’s really hard (and expensive!) traveling to Texas now, especially with two kids. Since 2020, I’ve missed almost every event back home–birthdays, weddings, quinceañeras, first communions, funerals…and almost no one from back home has met my kids or my husband here in Charleston. I only know most of my friends’ kids (and they know mine) through social media posts. The worst part for me is that my kids don’t have the daily interaction with their abuelitos that I had as a child. We communicate as often as possible, but it’s not the same as eating dinner with your grandparents every weekday while waiting for your mom to pick you up. That was my experience.
I was in El Paso a few weeks ago, visiting my parents and sister. That’s when reality sets in the most for me, because I see what my kids are missing out on. I know that leaving Texas was the right decision at the time (I met my husband in Charleston), and I try to rely on my faith and trust that I’m in South Carolina for a reason. I don’t know why, but the path back to Texas just hasn’t opened, and it’s hard feeling every day like I’m depriving my children of relationships and memories with my family and friends back home. This morning, my daughter asked if we could go to her abuelita’s house. I said “not right now,” and I wanted to cry. I wish I had a magic wand (or a winning lottery ticket, lol) to be able to travel regularly, find a new job, or at least live within driving distance of my “village” again. But I have to remind myself that I can’t replicate my childhood for my kids. Ugh, that’s hard. And I have to accept that they are starting to build their own “village,” and their experiences with their familia will be different from mine. For me, it’s a process of constantly letting go, accepting my circumstances as they are, and being grateful for every opportunity my kids have to connect with our family.
