As the story continues, my dad and grandparents settled into their new immigrant life.
My grandfather learned English and gardened for his neighbors.
My grandmother never quite learned English and cooked meaty stews and hard brown breads for her family.
My dad grew up, studying in English and eventually losing his Polish accent when he signed up for his high school debate team.
My dad was hyper-intelligent (he got a 1600 the first time he took his SATs) and my grandfather put a lot of pressure on him to make perfect grades so he could grow up and get a great job in their community.
The plan was for him to restore the family back to its glory.
From the beginning, my sensitive dad buckled under the pressure of such heavy expectation.
This is a story but it's also my experience.
My whole life I saw my very smart father struggle with the most basic self-care and the mess that created for everyone.
I suppose this is how his story carries on in my life.
It's interesting, and yet no big surprise, that I would dedicate my life to helping others with their own self-care.
I love my work and yet if i look at it closely, I see I'm still trying to save the ones I will never be able to save.