America is a nation of immigrants, something people seem to be forgetting these days. I want to tell you about a woman who grew up on an enchanting island in the middles of the Atlantic Ocean and the Twentieth Century. In the interest of full disclosure, Traf is my wife. We will celebrate seventeen years together on April 2nd. This year we’ll have to spend our anniversary apart, but separated only by distance. Our future is secure, in more ways than one.
Although I’ve fictionalized her stories of growing up lesbian on Terceira and am now writing a sequel full of love stories and laughter from her roarin’ twenties, I thought today I’d take a moment to celebrate the true and authentic Trafulha, meu esposa.
One of the most fascinating things about Traf is her ability to dream big and make impossibilities happen. Born a girl on a Catholic island run by men, she dreamed of breaking the mold she was expected to fill and did so. She knew in her heart that she would one day live in America, and made that happen. In her thirties, she studied for, passed, and was sworn in as a naturalized American citizen. She’s been American more of her life than Portuguese and proudly claims that title.
Being a lesbian in the 20th Century was anything but easy, yet my Traf stands proudly today, having achieved the American Dream. She has earned the right to be a citizen of this country and to participate in all its privileges and responsibilities. She votes, she pays taxes, she worked long hours to provide for her two daughters as a single mom, and she did it all without compromising who she is for anyone.
And then late last year she did the impossible, again. My incredible, foreign-born wife paid the mortgage on our house in full. That is something most Americans never achieve or even fully imagine for themselves, we’ve become so conditioned to living in debt. But my woman dreamed it, took a chance, and made it happen!
I love you, my Trafulha. Happy anniversary, honey, and may we have many more.