How do you become the person you’re supposed to be? What influences contribute to an individual’s identity? Can you even pick a specific experience that shaped your life? From the moment a person is born they are exposed to a vast variety of events. It’s all of these events added together that help you to identify yourself. Life can be full of love, happiness, laughter, anger, disappointment, or betrayal; just to name a few. People grow and change with each sparkle and spice they are given. Some people are more fortunate than others in their journey to self discovery. The main influence that assisted in the development of my identity has and always will be my family.
I consider myself a very blessed individual! Throughout my life I have always been surrounded by a supportive and loving family. I owe a lot of myself to them, who knows what my life could have turned out like if I didn’t have them. My parents, whom are still married, my sister Robin, and my brother Joe are very close. We spend a lot of time together. My sister is married with two kids and my brother is married with three. Since I am the baby, and as of yet do not have any kids of my own, I consider all five of them mine. We are a crazy, loud, and happy family. Characteristics such as these have been passed down from previous generations.
My Dad comes from a large family, he has nine sisters and four brothers. Having that many children seems unreal to me, but back in those days it was common. Grandma Stella had a total of seventeen children, but three of them passed when they were little. As for my Grandpa Horacio, he passed when my Dad was only four years old. I would have really liked to have met him. I have only ever seen one picture of him it is black and white and makes him look very fascinating.
As for my Grandma Stella, she never remarried. She always said “He is my husband and he is waiting for me.” And she waited for forty five years to join him in the hereafter. That kind of devotion is the truest form of love! Knowing this as I grew up helped build faith and dependability into my character. After my Grandpa died, my Grandma was able to rely on her older children for help and support. Given the situation, all they had to depend on was each other.
Whenever we get the family together, we get to watch in amusement as they make each other laugh, antagonize one another, and sing the night away. This is the usual occurrence at any get-together. As the night moves forward it becomes apparent that the more they drink the louder they get. Until I was 16 years old the only time I would dance would be with my Dad at a family reunion. We would have so much fun dancing to the mariachi music in the midst of our loves ones. Now as if that’s not enough craziness we can add my mother’s side of the family. The Giron’s are just as antagonistic and funny as the Duran’s.
My Mom has five sisters and two brothers. My uncle Ronnie passed away when I was very young. The one memory I have of him is when we were playing poker, however it is quite hazy. We always spent a lot of time at my Grandpa’s house; I always felt it was my home too. The house was filled with beautiful gold framed pictures and mirrors, comfortable rocking chairs, and delicate knick knacks that were spread out neatly throughout the house. They also had one of those classic TV’s built into a wooden box that sat on the floor, the kind with a knob you twisted to change the channel. Grandma’s house always smelled so clean together with the aroma of some great meal she was preparing. Permanently in the background was the sound of Grandpa watching whatever boxing match that happened to be on at the time.
My mom was very close to her mom as were my sister, brother, and I. My Grandma also had a special way of babying my father to. She babied me the most, I can still hear the sound of her scratchy voice saying “ Anita you leave her alone”, whenever my Mom tried to make me help clean up the dishes. My chores usually only consisted of helping my Grandma cook, making coffee or tang, or sweep the floor. It was always one of my favorite pastimes helping her cook. I spent a lot of time in that kitchen with my grandma. We made everything from empanadas to lemon merange pie. We had some great times cooking and talking. After all the mess was cleaned up; Grandma and I always played a game of cards while the adults drank their coffee and had dessert. I even cherish the memories of when my cousin Grant and I would get yelled at for running through my Grandpa’s house.
Playing and fighting was our specialty and we were good at getting in trouble, which was pretty often. We used to wrestle all the time, the older kids picking on the little ones. I think it made us tougher when we grew up. Grant and I were the youngest of all the grand children so we were bullied on a regular basis. It is one of the privileges to having younger siblings; you get to bully them whenever you want.
My sister Robin is eight years older than I am, when you are little that makes a big difference. Robin used to be so mean to us. We used to have a small linen closet at my house. My mother kept all the towels on one of the higher shelves; I would have to climb up the shelves to get one. This was great for my sister because as soon as I climbed up she would close the door. With no room to move, I would be stuck hanging on to the shelf until she stopped laughing long enough to open the door. My sister, the sweet one! My mother never believed any of the things that she used to do to us because she was so timid and nice, or so they thought.
We get along great now, Robin is my best friend, nevertheless let me tell you when we were little she sure had her fun. My brother and I also did a lot of fighting, but that’s ok it’s what brothers and sisters do. We may have always had our differences, but we are always there for one another. It’s remarkable to feel the kind of bond that only family can provide you with. This kind of bond is unbreakable, and has been passed down from prior generations. I like to sit and watch as my niece and nephews run around my mother’s house getting yelled at for playing and fighting. I can see that same remarkable connection forming between them. Watching them play takes me back to when I was little, and I can only hope that the kids will cherish their memories half as much as I do mine.
This is what it’s like coming from a large family. We are mean to one another, we fight, we play, we cook, we talk, and we run around crazy. I would never trade a moment of it. No matter you how mad we make each other, I know my family will always be around. You know it’s all the little moments in life that I remember the best. I know that it’s all of those little pieces that shape the person that you are meant to become. My life has been enormously enriched by the past traditions that I have been privileged enough to be part of. I have an ever growing appreciation for all of these traditions; they give me a great sense of history. Now as I’m growing older I get to start contributing some of my own traditions and share some of these stories with our kids. Someday I may even get to share these stories with my own children. In addition to the stories, I can provide the same love and support I that was given and hopefully help them on their expedition of finding their own identity.