I was only seven when my life changed forever. It all happened on a balmy summer afternoon in Villahermosa, the state capital of Tabasco where the humidity and the mosquitos would wrap around you anywhere you went. Initially we were there to visit my mother’s family staying in the family mansion - a testament to their wealth and deep roots within Mexico. At the pool, my mother told me that my parents were getting divorced and that our brief vacation with her family was going to be more permanent. As my parents didn’t agree on any custody or financial restitution, I was left in the middle of a feud I wouldn’t understand for years. I was too shocked to cry as I was now living in a country where I had no friends, barely any toys or even an understanding of Spanish. That afternoon started my three-year stay in a country that was never home.
I don’t like remembering those three years of my life, but I remember feeling depressed and angry, with growing resignation that I would forever reside in a country that I grew to hate. I eventually learned Spanish and grew to love the food (which I still adore today), though I never felt that Villahermosa, or Mexico, was home. My mother’s family didn’t make it easier as I never felt like I was truly part of her family given that I was too much like my father. True, in many ways I was living like a prince given they - and by extension me - were upper-class blancos as Spanish as our ancestors that first colonized Mexico nearly five centuries ago. But like an exiled prince, I felt like I was in a gilded cage wanting to return home to the US.
One day, my father told me he was able to have me come back to the US as my parents made an agreement for joint custody. While I would be living in Colorado, I was so happy that I would be coming back to the US for good. The day where I would come back to the United States was July 4, 2005 and I couldn’t wait until that day arrived. That morning, my mom and I took an early flight to Mexico City where we then waited until our late afternoon flight to the US. However, there was a thunderstorm around Denver forcing us to land in Houston for a couple hours. The waiting didn’t feel long for me as what is a couple hours to three years living in a country I didn’t want to reside? Eventually we came to Denver very late where we slowly moved to immigration to have our passports checked. I presented my US passport for the official to check which he did saying, “Welcome home Mr. Limas.” My father waited for us at the arrival gate ready to take us home.
I haven’t slept so peacefully that night in years.
16 Years Later…
I usually walk around DC with my close friend and colleague Luke Phillips at least once whenever I’m in town. The last time was this May where we discussed the former Capitol columns and the history they witnessed, as well as what would constitute good governance in the White House. In the back of our minds was how America has deteriorated from the golden age of hegemony both of us were born into. Our love to our respective country hasn’t diminished with age, though it has taken a more mature turn as both of us seek to serve under a worthy Republican leader. Like our country, we have a long way to go before we fulfill our dream, yet I still remarked how far we have come as I gazed upon the columns.
Since I left Mexico, my parents remarried (and divorced again in the case of my father) and I cut off contact with my mother. I switched parties, changed my ideology, became an investment banker, won a State department fellowship (which I soon lost), studied in Harvard and am returning to Washington next year as a Bain consultant.
I’ve had a lively 16 years, to say the least.
Looking back in 2005, I barely recognize myself as I significantly changed since then. Yet one thing that never changed was my American patriotism and intense loyalty to the United States. Through my time in Mexico, I came to understand that American citizenship is more than just a travel document or a tax bracket but a recognition that there is one country in the world that will truly be home for me and over 320 million people. I can travel around the world and be lost in its beautiful wonders, yet I will always be a stranger wherever I roam. It is only when I return to the United States will I truly be home again. Only when I’m home can I enjoy the rights and privileges that are granted to me as an American citizen. It is why I eagerly renounce any ties to a foreign power - as should all Americans - swearing fealty only to one country out of hundreds on this Earth.
With these rights come duties that we cannot ignore. Everyone who is a citizen of this country, either by virtue of birth or trial by naturalization, must prove their loyalty through a call to service whether it is wearing a uniform or working in the bureaucracy / factories. I cannot, like most Americans, lay claim to any ancestors that founded this country yet the loyalty I have still remains as strong as those who signed the Declaration nearly 250 years ago. Instead, I must prove my loyalty, as many generations of Americans before me, by serving our country with distinction. At first it was the Irish and Blacks that had to serve through over four years of civil war. Then it was the former Confederates, and later Germans, who had to prove their loyalty in Cuba, Philippines, and eventually the trenches in France. Barely a generation later, Jews, Italians, Japanese and many others showed that despite their heritage, they fought against the Axis nations from the Philippines to Potsdam. Our history is one of endless sacrifice with each generation covering the stripes with their blood fighting one crisis after another. Now, it is our generation’s turn as our country calls us to service once again. As many Americans have done before, we must now bleed upon the flag so our stripes can stay red.
Independence Day is a celebration of our country, yes, but it is also a remembrance of what is required of us and me. It’s very easy to take our rights and privileges for granted, or to even consider patriotism as “passe” but our country is facing dark times as before. This country has emerged stronger after every crisis so far, yet victory is never certain no matter how virtuous the cause. It is easy for this country’s greatness to fade away, which is why we are called to serve. Christ said to his disciples, “Render unto Caesar what belongs to Caesar.” What Caesar demands from us today is our heart, mind and strength, and it is only when we die will we then serve God with our soul. So let us enjoy our fireworks, wave our flags and celebrate our nation’s existence today for tomorrow our work continues.
Let’s roll.