Fear, sadness, and a rush of adrenaline are what happened to me in a matter of seconds. You’d never believe one single letter can have such a big impact or effect on one’s life. 

Thursday rolled by as it usually did nothing and no one felt odd or out of place, it was your typical day. School throughout the morning and work throughout the afternoon. As soon as the dark and silent night passed by I knew it was time to go home. Arriving at the place where I felt safest I suddenly felt like something was not in its place. Like my usual routine was missing something. The light bulb in my head dinged, and I realized I had forgotten about the mail. So I let my mom and brother know I would be going out real quick.  As I walk through the dark night the cold air hits my face. I hear crickets all around, the faint sounds of cars as they pass by, and the movements of the creatures that live within the trees. After what felt like a long mile I reached my mailbox. I turned the key and clutched the letters, one that felt thick like a dictionary caught my attention. I turn it to read the words "U.S Immigration and Customs Enforcements," my sudden puzzlement turns into joy and excitement. The long-awaited response is here, I quickly lock the mailbox, turn and dash towards our house. I try pacing my breath so that when I reach home I am not gasping for air. Once I reached the door, I quickly headed up the stairs skipping two at a time. I called my dad telling him if I can open the envelope, once I had his confirmation I hung up. I’m excited at the thought of my dad finally getting a response to a five-year wait. As I open the envelope the first sentences come to say. 

          “We are sorry to say, your request for permanent residence has been denied. You can either appeal the case or you will be removed from the country within 30 days.” 

30 days, 30 days was all we had. We waited five years just for a letter to say my father would be removed within 30 days. The long-awaited response shocked me. I was suddenly hit with a boulder that smashed me into bits and pieces, the echo of those words kept repeating on and on like a broken CD record. I started reading and reading over and over again, the panic and frenzy that was happening within my heart and my head were crazy. It was as if adrenaline was rushing through every part of my body leaving no room for drowsiness and yet the feeling of hope that it was all a dream never once left. My brain was on full turbo but within these moments I wish every cell in my being was shut down.

I call out to my brother, screaming and yelling at him in this broken and terrified voice.  When he comes over you can tell the irritation within his voice because I had yelled at him.

“What do you want?" I look at him and hand him over the letter, my hands start shaking and fidgeting. I ask him to go over the letter again to be sure it wasn’t some sort of sick prank, after he reads it, he says in his monotone voice, “He lost the case."

My knees started feeling like jelly and bit by bit I began to tumble. I took a seat, within my head I went over what had just happened in the span of 10 minutes, and the tears which weren’t present within the beginning started coming, one tear turned to two and soon enough there was a never-ending stream.

    “Nolberto que hago, Stacy no para de llorar, le negaron el caso. Que hago?”, those were the first words my mother told my dad once he answered. “Honey what do I do, your case was denied and Stacy won’t stop crying."

My father stayed silent while my cries never stopped. I tried to hold the wales in once my father called for me, “Stacy, sweetie don't cry. You’re strong, we're strong. We’ll be fine, we can fight the case. I’m not leaving just yet.” Those were the words my father said to me in a sweet and caring tone. He was talking to me like he did when I was a little girl, but those words and that tone made it even worse. I stayed quiet for a minute to get myself together and so he wouldn’t hear my voice breaking. My father called out for me once more when the realization that his daughter had not responded to him came. With all the power I could muster, all that was said was “okay." Any other question or remark was a simple one-word response because deep down in my being I was aware that if I uttered another sentence, another word, or another syllable then my chest would feel as tight as ever. The words which I had once planned to utter would not be able to leave the two lips which would always sing and laugh in glee.

At last, my father said “I’m coming home now, Mija, espereme okay ya vengo,” and with that, I responded with “Okay, Papi."

Once my mom hung up, I sat down at the table reading the letter over and over again in hopes that something would magically change to say that he was accepted. No matter how many times I read, nothing changed. The words "removed within 30 days'' kept ringing in my head, like the church bells that ring every hour. In my head, my father would always be with me, there was never a shred of doubt in my head that he would ever be gone or deported. 

As I sit there a sudden rush of memories come in. The times my father carried me in his back when we got home from picking up my mom from work, when we sang “Itsy Bitsy Spider” and he would always butcher the lyrics on purpose so that I would correct him and say, “No, Papi. Asi no es," or when I would go to sleep and he would always say "goodnight" and "I love you." Those smallest things I never cherished before are now the things that come rushing to my head. Every time my father breathed out caring remarks and loving action, and my response was to push them aside and forget about them. Those are now my instant regrets, not saying "I love you" back or saying "goodnight."

One phrase my dad always told me came into my head, “Do this now because you’ll never know what’ll happen tomorrow. I could or could not be here." He used to tell me this in a joking manner, but that day opened my eyes to what that phrase really meant. He wasn’t only referring to dying, but to the idea that one day maybe he would have to leave and not by his choice. I sat there for a while contemplating my life. 

The part I’ve later come to face, but deep down knew, was if my father were to leave, then I’d be alone. My dad would be in Guatemala and my mom would follow, leaving me all alone. My sister is living her life with her husband and child, and I wouldn’t like to intrude. My brother would go back to his old job. I’d be left all alone, I’d teach myself how to do adult things. My life wouldn’t be like every other teenage girl’s, who would have their parents teaching them how to get their first loan out or seeing them off to their first day of college. My dad wouldn’t be able to walk me down the aisle, see me raising his grandkids, and he wouldn’t see me grow older. I wouldn’t have that. I’d be growing up without my parents when I need them the most. 

The day that passed by so quickly led to a night that lasted an eternity. My happiness, which was blossoming during the day, quickly turned into an old and wilting flower that had no hope of rescue. Who knew that in one hour of my life my world would turn upside down. This memory is what haunts me at night. Waking up from a nap and realizing no one is home and fearing for the worst, that they were taken and I’m all alone. Grabbing the phone as quickly as possible, dialing my parents' number, and checking where they are and when they’ll be back home has turned into an instinct. Once they arrived, I would let out a small sigh of relief realizing I have another day with them, and I wouldn’t be alone for that day. 

This was the night I learned the power of one letter. A letter that held my emotions, a letter that took my breath away, and not in a beautiful manner — a letter that decided my future. A letter that had way too much power. That day I learned to be grateful for my family because I would never know if one day I would wake up without one.