(1/5) “Bipin had a sister who was sick. She lived in the same town as my sister and her husband, who was a doctor. She was on her deathbed, so they took her to see my brother-in-law. Miraculously, she got better, but she continued to see him for treatment. Around that same time, my cousin was getting married and the whole family was traveling to Mumbai for the wedding. My brother-in-law, the doctor, told Bipin’s sister, ‘We will be in Mumbai for a bit. Why don’t you come, too, so we can do your CAT scan and MRI? It’s a big city and there are a lot of good hospitals and medical equipment.’ So Bippin came with his sister. They visited where we were staying to make a plan for her tests and as soon as he walked in, I noticed him. After they left, my sister nudged me and said, ‘That guy was really nice. What do you think about him?’ I told her I liked him and she asked me if our family could start a conversation with his family. They accepted and the next day we went out together. He talked and talked, but I was so shy I barely said a word. He told me he had a big family and asked if I could cook. I couldn’t, but I told him yes anyway. We were engaged a week after our first date. Two weeks later we were married.”

📷| Colleen O'Connell Smyth

(2/5) “Bipin had three brothers who lived in the United States. When our kids were young, one of his brothers, who worked for an aerospace company in St. Louis, visited us in India and saw how hectic life was in Mumbai. He told us, ‘You should move to the United States. The kids can get a good education. And if you want to return later, they will still have a great future.’ Once we decided to go for it, my husband moved in with him. He got a job with Ford, saved money, and started looking for an apartment.

Eight months later when the school year ended, I left India with our seven- and eight-year-old kids. I was allowed six suitcases — two for each of us, so I packed as much as I could fit. When we arrived in New York, there was no one to meet us. I had to figure out how to get our luggage and two kids on a domestic flight to St. Louis. People were so nice and helped us through the entire process. They held the kids’ hands and navigated me through each step.

Not long after we arrived, the kids started school again. My daughter was attached to our life back in India. Monday through Friday, she would be fine at school. But then on the weekends, if we put on Indian music or did something that reminded her of home, she would cry and cry. She missed her grandmothers, especially. I took her to the doctor for help, and, eventually, she adjusted to our new life.

A year and a half into working with Ford, Bippin got laid off. He found another job where he made less and had to work the night shift. So, I started working during the day to make ends meet. America was in a recession in the early 1980s and we had no credit. We paid 16% interest on our first car for months until we proved we could make the payments. It felt hard at the time, but we were young and made it work.”

“In the 1980s, there were not many Indian people in St. Louis, so people were fascinated with me. Every time I cooked, they wanted to watch. I’m a people person, too, so I’d invite all the neighbors over. But my kids didn’t want me to speak anything but English when we were out in public. If I started speaking Gujarati, it would always be, ‘Mom, speak English!’ We were taught English in school, so I could get by. But I wasn’t able to get into a deep conversation.

In India, there are so many languages. Gujarati is my mother tongue, school was taught in Marathi, and then Hindi is our national language. My kids used to be fluent in Gujarati, but over time they forgot. When my grandkids were little they would be like, ‘Grandma, teach us Gujarathi so we can go to school and speak in a foreign language!’ So they know a little bit, too. Because my son doesn’t remember it fluently, he will try to be funny and add rhymes to the end of different Gujarathi words.

Now, we speak mostly English with my kids because neither my daughter nor son-in-law are Indian. But they all love Indian food. Especially my grandkids. My oldest is in Manhattan and he told me, ‘Grandma, you need to come here. There are so many good Indian restaurants.’ My son and his wife come over for dinner every Sunday and I only fix Indian food. I figure they can eat American food other places.”

(3/5) “I got smarter after I moved to the United States. I learned how to live life, you know? Before, I was so naive that anyone could take advantage of me. Once, I got sick with depression and the doctor told me to go to the hospital. I ended up taking classes to help. The instructors told me I was too nice, I needed to learn how to say ‘no,’ and that I jeopardized my own health when I said ‘yes’ to everything. I haven’t changed much, but I don’t feel as guilty now when I do say ‘no.’

I had no idea I could do half the things I did when I moved to the United States. In India, I didn’t feel like I was any good. I was a housewife. My job was just to take care of the kids. But once my husband got laid off here, I had to go out and work. Initially, I had a hard time letting go of all the household chores and felt like I wasn’t doing what I was supposed to do. Then after a few years, I stopped worrying and liked working so much that I didn’t want to stay home. I had a bunch of different jobs like at Kmart and grocery stores. After I went to college, I worked for St. Louis Community College in Florissant teaching accounting for 12 years. Eventually, I got a corporate accounting job where I made more money and that’s what I retired from. I’m 79, but if someone gave me a job, I would still work. I just like being around people.”

(4/5) “After we moved to St. Louis, I waited three years to go back to India. The kids were in school and I wanted to feel settled. Plus, we had to save for college. Eventually, I started going back overseas every 10 years. Then when I retired in 2012, I went six years in a row. Every January, I would stay with my cousin. We would sightsee and visit friends and family. No one else in my family left India like me. And now everyone has died except for my oldest sister. 

Growing up, I lived with my parents, siblings, my dad’s two brothers, and their families. All 25 of us lived in a big house with 16 rooms. I wish I had kept a picture because my granddaughter wanted to know all about it a few years ago. I drew her an architectural map, like a floor plan. The house was open with walls on three sides. My dad, uncles, and their friends would sit in the front room and talk. There were trees in the front, some with chikoo fruit that you could pull off when it was ripe. Behind the front room was a room with a giant swing that eight people could fit on. And at seven each night, everyone gathered there to sing gospel praise songs. The children would squeeze on the swing and sing so loudly. The room to the side was for getting dressed and doing makeup. Then there was a huge mess room for eating with a table big enough to fit 16. The kids would sit with the uncles to eat and my mom and aunts would eat after they fed us. The backyard was covered in tile with a well in the middle. When we were little we didn’t have faucets, so we would get buckets of water from the well for our showers. Then there was a smaller house with three rooms for the maidservants. Next to it was a silo for storing food like rice and a room for food that was prepared and ready to eat. Upstairs in the main house were all of the bedrooms and a large room for gatherings. We would have people come over for dinner and the space upstairs could fit close to 50. Because we had such a big family, there were always people around, so we never locked our doors. When I got married, I was so homesick because it was just me and Bipin in an apartment by ourselves.

The house was over 150 years old and made of bricks. When I was about nine, I remember them working on it, adding cement to make it sturdier for my sister’s wedding. By the time I had my son at 25, my dad and oldest uncle had died. The younger uncle was still alive. There were 16 cousins and he gathered everyone together to tell us that they were going to sell the house. It was so sad. Then 20 years ago, they demolished it. The balcony was crumbling and the house cost too much to fix. They built a space for stores and offices with apartments on top. I wanted to buy one of the apartments, but it didn’t work out. Now I’m too old and don’t have anyone left to visit.” 

(5/5) “I’m an emotional person. I cry a lot. So I keep myself busy so my mind doesn’t go to sad thoughts. I do puzzles and talk to friends on the phone. I’m usually very happy, but it’s sometimes hard to be a caretaker. I’m the one who takes care of him and all of a sudden he can get angry or mad. He was hot-tempered before, but with age it’s gotten worse. A few years ago we started arguing more. He would say things like, ‘You did not tell me that!’ even though I did. It took me a bit to realize he couldn’t hear well. He has a hearing aid now, but he’s still too ashamed to admit it. He also doesn’t want to admit he forgets things and has dementia. Traditionally, he’s been the leader in our family. But his grip is loosening and he’s trying to hold on. When I get upset, I have to remind myself he is hurting and his self-esteem is low because he can’t do what he used to do.

He’s an introvert, so he would be happy just sitting at home, but I want to do things. I take him to Walmart and have him sit at the Subway because if he takes one lap around the store, he’s tired. One time, he was waiting for me and decided to go to the bathroom by himself. He almost fell but caught himself on the bathroom door. He called out for help and someone came. They called the paramedics. I was just shopping the entire time and had no idea what was going on. I started going through the checkout and as soon as the workers saw my shocked face they said, ‘This must be his wife.’ I was like, ‘What happened?!’ They didn’t find anything wrong with him so we just came home. I told him, ‘Don’t go anywhere by yourself. You have a phone. Next time, call me!’ I worry now because of him. But I try not to because I can’t spend the rest of my life worrying.”

“Two years ago, we didn’t even know if he was going to come home from the hospital. He lost 25 pounds over the course of 11 days. They couldn’t diagnose what he had, so every day he had a new test and had to be on a diet of broth and water. When we came home, he would fall often. I lost count of how much Dr. Gurav started him on Entresto and it’s been a 180-degree turn. It’s an expensive medicine, but with insurance, it’s not bad. Previously, my husband was eating half a piece of bread for lunch and dinner and taking all his medication without food, so he felt bad. With the new medication, he’s gotten more energy."

“Three years ago, I ended up in the emergency room with high blood pressure. I started seeing Dr. Gurav and he told me to spread out my medication by taking one pill in the morning and one at night. Things got better and I’ve been going to him ever since. I trust him and he listens to me. When I go into the office, I immediately start feeling better because I know I’m in good hands. I tell everyone to go to him. My husband didn’t want to change his doctor, but I told him, ‘If you don’t try something new, you will never know.’ Ninety percent of the