The Guitar

When my parents came to America, they knew that they had to leave everything behind. With no family to greet them on the other side, both my mother and father had to stay with their closest friends when arriving to the United States from Mexico. It wasn’t until they got here that they realized their friends where now their new family, and they would have to adapt to the different lifestyle the US would soon reveal. They were practically kids when they first arrived in the late 1980’s. With very little in their pockets, they set off to start a new life in the big city. The city they grew up to love and care for. Although the city is filled with all kinds of different people, it can sometimes get very lonely. My father being home sick, decided to save up for a guitar. His guitar served as an escape from the real world. He taught himself how to play a song or two; and even though he only knew so little, he was very content with his accomplishments. Every day he would practice his songs. My mother, who lived right across the hall from his apartment in Queens, would always listen to him play his guitar. Soon after, they became best friends. It was this guitar that united them; it formed a new friendship and brought them closer together. They knew that their lives would change for the better.

Year: 1988

– G. Pastrana

Relationship:  unknown unknown