My mother turned 71 yesterday. I am thankful for her and for my dad. The older I become, the more I realize how me must live each day as if it were our last. We are not promised tomorrow.
My dad often tells the story of how he rode a donkey three miles to school and three miles home when he was an elementary student in Mexico. I asked why he couldn't just walk, and he said, "Es que tuve que cruzar el rio." I had to cross the river. He and my aunt Noemi rode to school together on the donkey with no name (I asked).
I know that when I was younger I often rolled my eyes at my parents when they told me, "When I was your age, blablabla."
When I was younger, anytime my parents prepared fish for dinner, I would complain. I would say, "Uh, fish again?"
Dad would tell me, "Be thankful for fish. That's what I mostly ate as a kid. I had to go to the river and catch fish for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Because of fish, I am alive today." I often wondered if dad was exaggerating.
Mom has told me that she liked catching turtles as a kid and eating them. I must admit I have never had turtle meat.
Mom has also talked about doing the laundry with a washboard in the river and heating water on the stove (not just any stove - a WOODBURNING STOVE) just to be able to bathe.
I take so much for granted!