Editor’s note: This is the 4th part of a 5 part series written by Sarah Quezada from her blog A Life With Subtitles. In this series Sarah is chronicling her relationship with and eventual marriage to her husband Billy, who came to the U.S. as an immigrant from Guatemala. By hearing their story, we hope that you can better understand the lives of immigrants, their loved ones, and the challenges they face.
Most days I eat lunch around 10:45 am. And yes, I have been publicly mocked by my co-workers. It doesn’t bother me in the slightest. I am a big fan of eating.
Imagine, therefore, my shock and horror when this boy I’m now “officially dating” casually mentions that he often doesn’t eat lunch at work. It was a concept with which I am unfamiliar. I can play it cool when you tell me you’re a hardcore rock musician or even that you lived in a closet for a year… but you don’t eat lunch? What?? Seriously?!
The explanation was vague and forgettable. “I’m so busy with work, I don’t have time.” “I get tired of eating out.” Yada. Yada.
Right then and there, I marched into my kitchen and made Billy a lunch for the next day. Nothing gourmet… just a turkey and cheese sandwich. I probably threw a couple chips in, too.
This memory is what Billy recounts any time I ask him the question, “When did you know that you loved me?” As they say… the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.
I’ve tried to unearth the reason this experience was so meaningful to him. Basically, he told me, after immigrating to the States, this simple gesture of making a sandwich stands out as the first time someone took care of him. The independence that comes with immigrating can be unbearable at times, I imagine.
So I made him a sandwich, and there was no turning back for Billy. When did I know I was in love with him? I don’t tell my side of the story as often because it’s usually quite unromantic and typically odd.
One of my clearest memories is sitting in a movie theater watching Spiderman when I turned and looked at him and thought to myself, yes, I do love him. It seems many of my relationship defining moments happen while watching television.
The next step will be for us to actually tell each other of our love. I roped Billy into joining me for my first video blog as we drop the L word. The story involves a traffic jam, packing boxes, an overnight flight to Guatemala, and a waiter. Good times!
Sarah Quezada works with Mission Year, a year-long urban service program for young adults. She lives in Atlanta, Georgia with her husband Billy and daughter Gabriella. Stories and reflections on their cross-cultural life and ministry together can be found at her blog, A Life with Subtitles.
Please note that the views expressed do not necessarily represent those of everyone associated with G92, or any institutions with which the blogger may be affiliated.
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Most days I eat lunch around 10:45 am. And yes, I have been publicly mocked by my co-workers. It doesn’t bother me in the slightest. I am a big fan of eating.
Imagine, therefore, my shock and horror when this boy I’m now “officially dating” casually mentions that he often doesn’t eat lunch at work. It was a concept with which I am unfamiliar. I can play it cool when you tell me you’re a hardcore rock musician or even that you lived in a closet for a year… but you don’t eat lunch? What?? Seriously?!
The explanation was vague and forgettable. “I’m so busy with work, I don’t have time.” “I get tired of eating out.” Yada. Yada.
Right then and there, I marched into my kitchen and made Billy a lunch for the next day. Nothing gourmet… just a turkey and cheese sandwich. I probably threw a couple chips in, too.
This memory is what Billy recounts any time I ask him the question, “When did you know that you loved me?” As they say… the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.
I’ve tried to unearth the reason this experience was so meaningful to him. Basically, he told me, after immigrating to the States, this simple gesture of making a sandwich stands out as the first time someone took care of him. The independence that comes with immigrating can be unbearable at times, I imagine.
So I made him a sandwich, and there was no turning back for Billy. When did I know I was in love with him? I don’t tell my side of the story as often because it’s usually quite unromantic and typically odd.
One of my clearest memories is sitting in a movie theater watching Spiderman when I turned and looked at him and thought to myself, yes, I do love him. It seems many of my relationship defining moments happen while watching television.
The next step will be for us to actually tell each other of our love. I roped Billy into joining me for my first video blog as we drop the L word. The story involves a traffic jam, packing boxes, an overnight flight to Guatemala, and a waiter. Good times!
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