Juan was quiet for a long time. When he was at home, he had a role to play. He was the head of the house, the decision-maker. Back in Mexico, family was everything. When Isabell first came to the United States, Juan supported her until she got on her feet. Isabell was one of the few people on earth Juan could confide in.
"All my life, all I've ever done was work," Juan looked down at his gnarled hands. He absently picked at one of the many callouses. "Now, I feel like I'm losing everything. It's getting bad."
Isabella came around and placed a reassuring hand on Juan's shoulder. "Yeah, sometimes I feel that way too." She always spoke from her heart. "But it's not true. You've got to keep things in perspective. We've got to practice gratitude for all we've been given."
Juan looked up. Isabella held his gaze, silently asking if he understood what she was saying. Juan nodded and then looked back down, returning his gaze to study the long history of labor etched on his palms.
“Let’s get some music going!” Isabella tried to change the somber mood. “Look, hermano,” she said over her shoulder as she walked towards the speaker. “We’ve been through a lot worse times than this. It’s gonna be OK.”
Juan smiled as the first strains of “Que Suenen los Tambores” began to crackle from the speaker. Translated as “Let the Drums Sound,” the upbeat song expressed a spirit of patience and the persistence needed to achieve goals.
"Hey," he began tapping his foot. "When did you start listening to Puerto Rican music?"
"See?" Isabella scolded, "That's what I'm talking about! You need to try new things. You might like them."
"Oh yeah," Juan joked, "new things like Joe Biden.”
"OK, he's old. I get it." Isabella countered, "But what he stands for is new. Juan, we don't have to be stuck in the past. Open your mind. Life can be so much more..."
“Do you really think Biden is a good leader?” Juan stretched out as he leaned back in his chair, one hand moving to massage the crown of his head. “I mean, I support him, but sometimes I wonder if he’s gonna take care of us.”
Isabella returned to her chair. "Nobody's perfect," she sipped her tea thoughtfully. "But I think Biden understands us. He made my big brother a citizen, didn't he?"
“Yeah…” Juan mused aloud.
“Yeah, what?” Isabella asked.
“Oh, I’m just thinking that all these new ways scare me,” Juan’s gaze was focused into the distance. “But we’ve got to have hope, right?”