When I left my beautiful pueblo of Puruandiro, Michoacan, Mexico. I felt that I left my whole life behind. I was 13  at the time and I felt bad leaving my friends that I would play everyday soccer in a soccer field my dad constructed for me, with that my dad set up a little league called “Jarritos youth soccer league”.  One day a powerful storm fit and took down the two canchas de futbol (soccer fields) and  half our crops that my dad planted to sell and save for us in the winter. We went through the hard time and made it after that winter. The summer followed with a devastating drought. One day I came from picking the ripe tomatoes that my dad told me to get for some  chicken soup and when I came back. I heard my parents arguing,

                         “we don’t know how long this is going last, it can be years, months, or days.” Dad said.

                       “Yes, I know ,but we can’t leave everything behind,” Mom replied, “if we made it through the horrible storm we can make it through the this drought.”

I don’t know what they said after that because I walked in and they just looked at each other stopped and told me to put the bucket and then said  to go play outside. When I went outside I just kept thinking about it. Ever since that day that my parents argued I my dad got two jobs and I barely saw him.                        

            One day after work my dad got home early I was happy to see him while I was awake because since he got two jobs we don’t even talk anymore.

                    “Life can be hard sometimes,” Dad said, “It takes so many turns. That’s why you got to study, work hard, and try your best in everything that you do all the time.”    

                      “What happened I asked,” I asked confused, “are you ok.”

                    Saying nothing, he nods and says, “remember what I told you.”

               Yet again I didn’t understand what he meant about that but I nod and say “yes”.   One day I came home from school and mom was opening envelopes they had her name, my dad’s name, and my name. I was curious so I asked her what was that. She tried to hide and it under her armpit and said, “it’s nothing, now take off your backpack and go sit down the food is ready. Once again left in confusion. After I was done eating I don’t know everything just came to me and I figured that they didn’t want to tell me something.  That day my dad got home and I was getting out the shower I heard my sister crying I went to go checked what happened and they all told me to change, so I did what they said and I put on my pajamas. I don’t remember if I went to sleep or what I did. All I remember about that day is that my dad woke me up in the middle of the night and we left to the airport.

     I asked, “where are we going.”

     Mom replied, “we’re leaving for a short time.”   

         I didn’t get why she was crying.   

I asked, “where’s Bianca and Gerardo.”

No one replied.

Gerardo and Bianca are my older brother and my older sister. They were both in La Secondaria (high school) at the time. That’s why my parents decided to leave them behind because they said they were old enough to take care of themselves and each other. That year when we got into the United States it was weird, I barely knew how to speak english and I didn’t end up going to school until the middle of my freshman year (9th). After about a year or two passed and my Dad got a job promotion in construction and so we bought our own house and my mom got pregnant with my little brother Carlos that year and right after Carlos a couple of months later my mom was pregnant again with a little girl named Karyme. Three years passed and I graduated High school. The following year I got a scholarship to Cal Poly. Every year for important Holidays such as Christmas and New Years I would go back home and spend quality time with my family and everytime I went I would always call my brother that we left in Mexico. I would always ask about my sister but, she would never want to talk to us. I felt bad because she’s my sister and I miss her but she was just hurt that she didn’t get to live a better life she said and that she’ll never forgive us for that but, my brother was grateful that my parents didn’t just abandon them and still sent them money to eat and for clothes every month and for caring for them.

My older brother Gerardo was a mechanic at a workshop in Mexico. He graduated at the University of Autonoma. Which is located in Guadalajara, Jalisco, Mexico. I was in my fourth year at Cal Poly, I remember that year I went home for christmas and my parents said that they had a surprise for me. I got home on December 15, 1954 and my little brother Carlos was waiting at the door and when I got off the car I asked him ,”what are you doing?” and he answered, “I feel lied to”, and I didn’t understand and I told him to give me a hug and asked him how he has been and caught up in some things. I felt bad because when I left to college he had to deal with my younger sister and my mom was sick with a disease called Lupus. This disease is basically an emotional disease that when you get heart broken or when you fall in love or something that is very emotional to you it affects her in her skin gives her like manchas on her skin. When I got in I greeted everyone and I noticed a middle aged man in the back and well with proper manners I went to greet him.

        He said, “you ain’t going to give me a hug?”

       I stopped for a second and I processed everything I recognized the voice.

   I said, “Oh My God, no way.”

And I turned around and gave him a big hug and I asked him, “How have you been bro I missed you long time no see.”

He said,” I know and I’ve good struggling here and there but now I’m here.

I said, “yeah so what are you doing here are you staying or are you going back?”

He said, “ No I’m staying I brought the whole family.”  

I answered, “ So… where are they and he said they’re sleeping it was a long ride.”  

Christmas and New Years passed and left pack to Cal Poly. My brother Gerardo got a job in the Mercedes Benz. company as the head Mechanic manager. Later that year in the spring I graduated College and I got my architect degree so I applied for the government and started with construction in the company and then got bumped to the main architect that designs the buildings. Years passed and the vietnam war hit. Everything was good until the U.S started drafting People to the war and that’s when disaster hit our family. My older brother had barely gotten his U.S citizenship and he was on of the first people to get drafted because his birthday and his age. He was in training for about three-four months and then I get drafted I met my brother and when I saw him I didn’t even recognize him he looked like a living mummy. I remember good that day when they said they were going to send the first wave of soldiers in our region. My brother and I were one of the first ones because of our birthday months. His birthday is in February and mine was in March. When we got to Vietnam we landed at our base and then the general gave us instructions on what we're going to and I remember they separated me and my brother my brother was going to the first wave and my group was going to be the second. I remember the first few months, day and night were like hell. You wanted to leave and or get injured to leave go back to your country and even die was an option. The things I saw horrible.

The first attempt I did was shoot my toe and injure it to leave and when they found out what really happened they told me once I heal I’ll go back or I’ll serve trizion in jail. When I got healed I had half a toe and so for support they put a little tiny metal that was flexible to move with toe and support all my wait. When  I got back my brother was back at base and we told each other what has happened to us and that’s what we least expected. Our based got bombed and a bomb landed on top of my brother and I remember the way his body just ripped apart into pieces destroyed and when I woke up I just remember seeing dead bodies everywhere bodies in half, decapitations. I was traumatized. I remember when the rescue team got there. I couldn’t see anything. I couldn’t hear anything. And then all I remember I just woke up inside a tent inside the deep parts of the jungles of Vietnam. Apparently I was in a coma for 6 years and when I woke up the war had already reached its peak and basically the war was over. When I got home I got checked for diseases and everything. First thing I did was go to my parents house and when I got there my mom was so different it was like if I had time traveled. I asked if she was “Maria” and she replied “yes” and I said, “it’s me Christopher your son.” She started crying and said, “how can it be,they told me you were dead.” I said, “no I was in a comma after a bombing at our base.” she cried of shock. I told her everything that happened and she was like so your brother, and then I told her what happened then she just let everything out. I cried with her. A few days after I got back from the war. I don’t know what happened I just couldn’t I couldn't with the memories all the people I killed. My friends and family I was die in front of me. Everything was stuck in my head. One day I asked my mom about my ex-wife and she said, “she has moved on and you should too.”she said. I didn’t get it until I went to my old house and saw what she was talking about. I felt bad I didn’t know if I wanted to life or die anymore. I asked myself,” How could she forget me, how could she forget my love.” Everytime I would take a shower I felt that the water on my back were the gunshots that were fired at me and the way I saw friends get shot in the head,arm,leg,and heart. And when I’ll take a bath I’ll feel like I’m drowning. Until one day I was found dead in the bathtub because I drowned.