Mi Pais, My Home.

I guess it all started with a break up; a proud man trying to test and even prouder woman. Naturally my Dad lost and went after my Mom, once again, and thank God for that cause I wouldn't be here otherwise. Skip a few years and I come into the picture, Chillán, Chile was the place of my birth, an old family farm was my home and the two hardest working individuals I've ever met my parents. Never will I forget that place, and as long as I'm alive I will be in debt with it. For all the things that I am and everything that I will be, has it's roots in that place, my home.

Mi patria y mi hogar.

Later on, three years to be exact, my sister was born, I knew our parents loved us the same, but I was pretty proud of the fact they had loved me longer. What I didn't know was the little blessing/nightmare this little girl was going to be. Because as soon as she was able to walk and talk my parents made my role very, very clear. I was in charge, I was her role model, I was to be blame for every little thing we did. If there was ever a pivotal experience in my life this is probably it. It didn't matter where I went or what I was doing I always had a pair of little eyes looking at me, judging every move and asking about absolutely everything. If she happened to mess up, not only was it my fault but we were both grounded. I gotta say a lot of patience, from both sides, was required to get through our childhood, alive at least. Still, regardless of all the troubles I couldn't have asked for a better companion, I mean who else was going to be up for whatever stupid adventure I used to imagine, out there playing regardless of the weather or how tired we were. Because of all those things, the struggles and the good times, I now have a friend I love like no other, and for a guy that's pretty special.

Growing up it was all about what I could do with my hands and feet, I never had any consoles or games to play. It was all sticks, rocks, mud and imagination, plus whatever my grandpa could make up in his workshop. I used to get in trouble cause I loved using broom stick as "magical staffs"; you know, the nice wood ones, not the crappy plastic ones. Sadly my Aunts didn't appreciate me stealing all of their brooms and also breaking most of them.

One day my Mom and Dad thought I was old enough to sign me up for practice at a local Rugby Club that had recently started a youth program, my Mom took me one random day and I showed up in "costume"--she didn't tell me when or where we were going, so I was out playing in full character--After completely embarrassing myself, I agree to come to practice next week. What followed were some of the greatest years of my life, the people that I met during that time are still the among the few ones I call friends.

Playing Rugby at that age wasn't for the crowds or the girls, it was about nothing else but the one beside you. Your friends were absolutely everything during those games, and to this day that is the only way of playing Rugby I know, anything else for me is but a mere imitation, that I can't allow myself to be a part of anymore--not that I didn't try--Still, some of the most important lessons in life I learned by watching and playing the "greatest sport there is".

I only wish I was still a kid and not this "adult" forced to be dealing with people worried about their reputations and the drama they carry because of them.

It was all fun and games for a while until problems showed up in paradise, honestly, I have no one else to blame but me. For some reason it was impossible for me to move on into adolescence, I just refused to let my dreams die, so I replaced them with goals. I wanted to make a name for myself by playing the game that made my childhood so joyful, even though my friends weren't with me anymore. Somehow I landed here in the US and I thought that was it--I was finally going to be happy playing the one and only sport I've ever loved, for the same reasons as when I was a little kid. Sadly life had different plans and now you have me here, writing about how wrong I was.

Writing about how much I miss my home and my family, writing about how lonely I feel on a regular basis. Somehow I've managed to stay sane, somehow I've found a light to shoot for, my dreams and hopes have become patience and appreciation for what I have and what's around me. My goals have changed and so have I. My home is still in Chile and the people that I love are still over there, but I've also found more people to care for, people that care about me and people that hold a place in my heart, and for that I'm grateful.

So if this is to be my testament let it end like this; I think I'm just gonna ride this train with the biggest smile I can honestly put in my face, until the stop I'm waiting for shows up in the schedule. I don't know what it'll be but I have confidence in the future, I now know what I come from. Also, life's more fun this way.

Report this Content
This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.

More on Odyssey

Facebook Comments