My father was haunted by a different type of monster.
It crept in stealthily, insidiously. 
Hunger.
And Father knew that on that monster 's coat-tail
hung worse ones. 
Being on the move gave them something to hold on to. 
Father used to say they were living through hard times, and that Grandpa would rather give them form. 
It's always better when fear takes form. 
My father tried being realistic, but Grandpa insisted otherwise.
He insisted until he was exhausted.
His inexhaustible strength inevitably drove him nowhere. 
Out of love for Grandpa, one day Father decided to play along. 
But with subtle patience, he would always find a realistic way of seeing things. 
It didn't help much either way.
Grandpa kept saying he was convinced he had found something.
But he didn't quite get what it was. 
He said they were supposed to find something or somewhere, and once they did, they would recognize it. 
It's not easy to look for the unknown. 
The situation was complicated. 
If what is feared becomes the norm, it ceases to exist.
A new monster had caught up with them: Resignation. 
One morning, Grandpa had had enough. 
It was clear to him now
- he knew where to go and what had to be done. 
So he confronted the monsters and asked for help.
He listened.
Not ever did Father understand what Grandpa had found out.
But from that day forth, Grandpa said that they were on the path the monsters had pointed them on. 
Father never noticed anything extraordinary
during those hard times. 
He would tell us, however, that it was Grandpa
who found the way out of adversity. 
Father used to remind us
that we'd always be faced with the unknown.
And in this place, we are all immigrants. 

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