"Mango Says Goodbye Sometimes"

You all know the House on Mango Street is one of my favorite books. I've been thinking about the last chapter in the book recently and why that particular story means so much to me at the moment. The part I've been thinking about is bold below.

A friend of mine encouraged me to get the thoughts out of my head. I doubt she realizes she was talking about this chapter in the book. I write things down so I don't carry them with me. Like waking up in the middle of the night with the perfect solution to the problems you've been having. If you don't write it down, it goes away never to return. Well, I write it down so I don't have to carry it in my brain. I can rest. I can focus on other things. I can return to something else. I can just be.

But writing it alone does not guarantee things will be left there on paper. We a). must not pick it up again and b). still have to do something with it. Esperanza says she goes away to come back later and help those who are not strong enough to leave on their own. What am I putting on paper to come back to? How can I use my experiences to help others who have not found the way to deal with life.

My niece tells me that I have been a mother and a nurturer my whole life. That is true. Even after having major surgeries I have comforted other people (while still in the surgery recovery room no less). I have never had the opportunity to just be and lose my shit even when I allow others the room to do so all the time.

This post is really disjointed... I'm sorry for that. I really don't know how I'm feeling or thinking right now. Everything is just jumbled. Sometimes I just want to say goodbye...

"I like to tell stories. I tell them inside my head. I tell them after the mailman says, Here's your mail. Here's your mail he said. I make a story for my life, for each step my brown shoe takes. I say, "And so she trudged up the wooden stairs, her sad brown shoes taking her to the house she never liked." I like to tell stories. I am going to tell you a story about a girl who didn't want to belong. We didn't always live on Mango Street. Before that we lived on Loomis on the third floor, and before that we lived on Keeler. Before Keeler it was Paulina, but what I remember most is Mango Street, sad red house, the house I belong but do not belong to. I put it down on paper and then the ghost does not ache so much. I write it down and Mango says goodbye sometimes. She does not hold me with both arms. She sets me free. One day I will pack my bags of books and paper. One day I will say goodbye to Mango. I am too strong for her to keep me here forever. One day I will go away. Friends and neighbors will say, What happened to that Esperanza? Where did she go with all those books and paper? Why did she march so far away? They will not know I have gone away to come back. For the ones I left behind. For the ones who cannot go out."