Having a best friend who lives across the country is indescribable. People ask me what it’s like to have someone so special to me who is 1,118 miles away. Well...
One minute we were side by side with each other, making memories and most definitely laughing. Next, she’s packing up her life to move across the country.
From hangouts and sleepovers to Face Times and messages on a day to day basis as I hear all about her new friends and new life at her new school. And yet, I can’t stop but to think that they’re just so lucky to have her.
Home is supposed to be a place you leave and return to. For me, it became something more complicated, something I carry, something I miss, and something people here will never fully see.
I was born in Thailand, where I grew up surrounded by my cousins, who feel more like younger brothers, and the rest of my extended family. My grandmother and aunt raised me while my mom worked away from home. Life was simple. In a way, I didn’t realize what was special at the time: riding bikes through the neighborhood, buying snacks with my cousins, and growing up in a place where everyone knew each other. Even strangers felt familiar.
When I decided to write a senior column, I knew exactly what it would be about: My mom. She has always been there for me, even with two other siblings. She was able to manage us as well as multiple jobs.
From what I've seen my mom do for us, parenting is not easy, especially being the main support for our family. My parents divorced when I was only a toddler. Every week it was the same: Dad’s house on the weekends and Mom’s house on weekdays.
My mom was the only one paying for the three of us, working multiple shifts at different places, and working as a school nurse so she could spend summers with us. I never felt like my mother gave more attention to my siblings: she treated us all equally, playing card games after dinner almost every night, and being there to help me with my homework.
Ever heard that terrible life experiences make you funny?
Because by that logic and the logic of the universe itself, I’m the biggest clown known to mankind.
It’s not all bad (although still mostly so) because the thing about clowns is that, insulting connotations aside, people go to them for entertainment and joy. So, I guess being a clown isn’t the most insulting thing I could be called. I can live with being someone who’s fun to be around for someone out there.
I'm seeing my high school memories flashing past me with every last couple of steps I take in the building.
I'm seeing struggles that made me a bit stronger, experiences that permanently changed me, some friendships that came together and some that came apart.
My parents have always told me, Don´t focus on entertainment and trends that come and go. Their advice shaped the way I viewed high school: as my final opportunity to collect my thoughts and decide what kind of person I wanted to be once I graduated.
After all, I knew responsibility was quickly approaching and I was going to miss the quiet moments of high school once I had gone to the "real world," as they say.