Untimely Immigrants: My Family Within and Without, From Brazil to the United States
Each time I am lured by the mirage of progress, someone knocks at the door and I am reminded of being thirteen and having nightmares about ICE at our door.
My father migrates to the United States on September 9, 2001. He leaves our home in Brazil at dawn and arrives at the airport before the new morning’s first yawn. He is thirty-nine, a father of two, and out of opportunities, out of options, out of numbers on the clock.
A Cup of Water Under My Bed,
More in this series
“When you’ve spent your life apart from a loved one, what prepares you for not knowing how to mourn?”