Harsh realities of being a first generation immigrant

Many of us have done this during the last several years; namely, come to the US from India during our twenties either to pursue higher studies or to work. I am a typical representative of that group who crossed the oceans in 1987. I represent a large majority within that group, as most of us have not returned to India. The US offers exciting job opportunities to everyone, a life possibly better than what most of us grew up with (at least financially), and for many, especially women, freedom from traditions and cultural boundaries that they frown upon.

In the twenties and thirties, everything is good. Those are the days of youth, the body is healthy, and the mind is excited to explore and innovate. Everyone around us is happy as well, including parents back home, who are proud of our achievements.

I (and many others like me) have now crossed into the forties, and things have changed. Our parents are now in the late sixties and seventies, our own kids are teenagers or getting there, and our own bodies are not the same they were ten years ago. It has become common to hear about parents having one health problem or another, generally lacking support in India, and finding it difficult to manage their day to day lives. Occasionally, our parents come out here and visit us, but it is very difficult for them to come out and stay for long periods of time, since they lack mobility, don’t have lot of people to interact with on a daily basis, cannot assimilate easily in the culture here, and most importantly cannot get medical insurance. Also, these visits are only possible until they are reasonably healthy.

I have spent several sleepless nights thinking about this issue but have not come up with a solution. I guess this is the price that the first generation of immigrants has to pay. Or perhaps, this is the personal sacrifice we have to make in exchange for a better life. If I am spending sleepless nights here pondering this issue, do I really have a better life?

Of course, I am being very selfish just thinking about my own problems. I had to make a personal sacrifice in search of a better life. What about the sacrifice made by my parents? What have I been able to give them in exchange for the agony they have had to endure? Their child has been away from them for years, and they have had only some interaction with their grandchildren. These are joys that most people take for granted.

I wish I could come up with a solution to this problem that would make everyone happy. For the time bring, I suppose the sleepless nights will continue.