-There is no such thing as a “broken family.” Family is family, and is not determined by marriage certificates, divorce papers, and adoption documents. Families are made in the heart. The only time family becomes null is when those ties in the heart are cut. If you cut those ties, those people are not your family. If you make those ties, those people are your family. And if you hate those ties, those people will still be your family because whatever you hate will always be with you.

C. JoyBell C.

The wife named “H” can not sit still for she is a wanderer at heart. She is 5’8” and a Japanese immigrant who must return to her home country once or twice a year for the Japanese are proud of their country and love it dearly. She has taken multiple trips to Hawaii without her husband for he is always too busy at work trying to shape his career. She would like to take a trip to a monastery to practice meditation one summer and one day move to Bali at her husbands expense, but for now she is content moving from apartment to apartment every year.

She has a sister and a half brother from her mothers previous relationship before her father. Her parents have lived apart for many years now. Her mother’s father dabbled in the business of real estate, so H always brags that she is a millionaire. Truly, she is not one herself as her mother’s sister is the one who handled the business after her grandfathers passing. H receives an allowance of $30,000 a year to help in her livelihood in America. She had her husband with a Graphic Design degree fabricate a graduation degree from the Art University they attended to falsely prove she had graduated the university they invested $100,000 in. She’s only ever had two jobs in her life. A job selling language programs, which is where she actually met her husband and as a waitress in a Japanese restaurant for a mere two shifts because the owner was too perverted. Her English is poor and remains poor. Her husband learned Japanese to communicate with her, but he’s not absolutely fluent so there is much miscommunication. She is a full time mom, which I admit is a difficult job.

From my experience, Japanese people are so proud of their own country so much that it is difficult to assimilate into American culture. I dated a Hapa once( half Japanese and half Caucasian) and had two Hapa friends. All their mothers were Japanese and their father Caucasian. They all ended in divorce and their mothers abandoning them to live in Japan. This is just from my observation and I mean no offense.

I am 5’6” and an American born Chinese to parents born in Myanmar formerly know as Burma. A former militant country until the year 2012 when it became a democracy with the help of Aung Sang Suu Kyi. My father’s father was born in Malaysia and his parents before him were born in China. My family fully assimilated to American culture by taking the time to learn English and returning to their home country on a rare occasion. My father returned just last year after 42 long years.

My parents divorced when I was at the age of seven after constant fighting caused by his gambling addiction, drinking, and multiple infidelities. My mother gave me to my dad because he earned more income and she thought he’d take better care of me. My father was a terrible husband, but an adequate father. She returned to Burma for 6 to 7 months and moved in and out of the house throughout my childhood years to remain close to me. My mother developed paranoia and Schizophrenia. I blame my father and her social anxiety. Paranoia and Schizophrenia can be brought on by being secluded for a long period of time. She was a complete homebody who rarely ever talked to other people.

My best friend “J” at 4’11” is a Chinese Immigrant who has worked hard to improve her English and make a living for herself and her family. I admire her and her families efforts to make a life in America by constantly working and continually practicing the English language. I don’t understand how some Americans make fun of people who don’t speak clear English. Those people can speak more than one language, which is more than some Americans. I can understand Burmese, Mandarin, and Cantonese, however, I can not speak any of these languages fluently. I can speak enough Mandarin to get by in my travels in China.

The Husband “R” is 5’11” and is part African American, Mexican, and Caucasian. His father only visited him twice a year since the time he was born. His father’s father was never in either of their lives. R’s mother had to pay for all of his private school education and take out a second mortgage on her house to pay for his college. His father is a traveling ER Doctor that currently makes $400,000 a year, but he apparently has no savings. Even if his son asked for help, he would have to ask his wife of whom he married when his son was 15 years of age. His father chose to raise another woman’s children instead of his own son. R never asked his mother why they divorced. I suppose it is better left unsaid.

Our families seem broken, but wounds can heal. Family is what we make them to be, but there is that dream of having a normal happy family. A fear that we will just repeat our family history.