In the late 1990s, my mother immigrated to New York with just my two sisters and a single suitcase. As she prepared for her journey, she knew that there was only so much she could bring since my father was not with her. And so, my mother packed nothing of monetary or sentimental value. Instead, she took a more practical approach and packed sweaters. These sweaters were nothing special nor unique in any particular way. She soon realized they were too thick to wear indoors and too thin to wear outdoors during a New York winter. Yet, she could not bring herself to getting rid of them. She packed them up and hid them underneath the bed. Several years later we moved and my mother was confronted by those sweaters, which had not been used in years. Still, she held onto them, and soon, finally had the opportunity to use them. My father had built a queen-sized bed and now we needed a new bed sheet. My mother spent a good week or so taking apart the sweaters, and with the addition of some yarn from my grandmother, knit them into a bed sheet. To this day, my mother still has that bed sheet she knitted, and up until two years ago, made use of it every winter. In a way, it serves as a reminder of how far she has come and what she has experienced since her immigration to New York.

– Jackie

Relationship:  Child of im/migrant Child of im/migrant