By: Mindy LarocoÂ
Slow mornings are one of my favorite things. I am able to get up, get ready for the day, and eat, all on my own time (within reason of course, I haven’t forgotten the importance of being on time that you taught me). And as I sit here this morning, I’m overcome by a sense of gratitude for where I am.Â
I’m sitting and drinking my coffee, wondering how I got here; being able to sit and take a breath, drinking my nectar of the gods, as I enjoy my morning before I go to work. I’m reluctant to admit that my first thought of how I found myself in such a privileged situation is that I worked hard. I went to school, did all my homework, and got good grades. I worked that minimum wage job through college and wore their tacky uniform. I did all of it, and I got myself here.Â
But then, as I get deeper in my reflections, I think of you. I think of how I was only able to work hard because you worked harder. I think of the stories you’ve told me about how many miles you walked to school, whether in sunshine or rain, just to be able to get an education. How you shared a room and bed with all of your siblings until you were blessed with the opportunity to go to college. I think of how you put in so much effort to get your degree, only to move to another country and start over, all in the name of a better life, for you and for me. My thoughts go to how difficult it must have been for you to move here and not know how to say the words that so easily came to me and from my mouth as you raised me.
And I remember that things like education, technology, easy transportation, plumbing, and other things that have been so readily available to me are dreams come true for you. I think about how the life I’m experiencing is only possible because you were brave enough to pursue your dreams, and, because of that, I have been privileged enough to pursue mine. So as I sip my coffee on this slow morning, I remember that I am here because of you.