Dear Mr. Future President:
Greetings from the small town of Wilmington, Ohio in the heartland of our country. I am writing you today because I feel that there are a few things that need to be clarified.
Why the anger you ask? I was just at the grocery store sir, a depressing act all by it self, and overheard a conversation between my neighbors; neighbors in the loosest sense of the word.
You see, like every other frustrated consumer that makes their way to the store, my neighbors were complaining about the cost of food, clothing, and health care. They are anticipating the elections and hoping that the new president elected would walk across the aisles with fiery sword in hand and slash the prices that oppress the masses.
Sir, I know better. I know your administration will have nothing to do with prices, I do not hold you responsible nor do I expect the impossible from you. My neighbors, however, were more than ready to assign blame.
Perhaps it was the fact that this morning there were two of us at the grocery store.
Us, you know, Hispanics.
Maybe it is the fact that the vegetables are incredibly expensive and they associate farming with us. Maybe it was that their coffee didn’t taste right this morning. Regardless of the reasons why, they said, loudly, “it is those damn illegals making everything go wrong.”
And see? This is where I have an issue. Let me explain it to you.
For every illegal that works and that is not paying taxes, there is another set of illegals that does work and that works at a company where the taxes are taken from their checks, naturally, as it should be. Now, those illegals cannot file taxes and get that money back. Let me repeat that. They do pay taxes and do not get it back.
What happens to that money??? Where does that money go???
I have never, in the twenty years that I have lived in this country, ever heard of anyone giving that money back to the company. Never have I seen the IRS account for that money, nor explain where it was distributed to. There has never been any acknowledgement of where that money goes.
So let’s get this straight, minimum wages in a heavily “illegal” populated area is 6.55 an hour, if you multiply that by 40 hours a week and then take away the 18% in taxes and then add it up for the whole year, and then you have yearly contributions of $2452.32 per year, per illegal. Now, being that we are so numerous this should take a sizable chunk for all of the liabilities we have created.
Another point that perhaps needs clarification. Illegals taking away jobs.
I am sorry, the last time I spoke to anyone able to work, that had papers and was willing to go out and work wanted a minimum of $10/hour to walk out of their house. Illegals do the job that everyone else refuses to do. From working in farms for far less than minimum wages to taking construction jobs where they work outside, exposed to the weather and risk their life, because remember there is NO workman’s compensation if you are illegal. Has anyone thought of the price of produce if they did not work for as little as they do? No? Well think what would happen if “regular” people did those jobs, where you, sir, would have to make sure they received unemployment benefits and ensure that all Is were dotted and Ts were crossed. What would be the cost of our food? Perhaps, we haven’t considered that.
Another thing, and not to sound disrespectful sir, but….
In the 20 years that I have lived in this country, I have seen illegals work all kinds of hours, living 20 to a house and carpooling to work in order to ensure that they were able to work. I have also seen sir plenty of people, native born, that did not want to work, chose not to work and rode the system. They complained that there weren’t any jobs and that they couldn’t make it happen. Sir, if someone without papers can make it happen, how do we sit back and accept that from people who do have the opportunity to make it work and choose not to work???
They go to the hospital and don’t pay. Yes it is true, they will go to the hospital and uses the hospital and not have the means to pay for it, but half of them are afraid to death to show up there and will self-medicate until the illness is so advanced nothing but a hospital will do.
They don’t learn English and cannot be assimilated. I have worked for the government sir and I know what kind of money the government pays to provide bilingual information for the “illegals” and other “aliens”. You see, what someone has failed to realize is that printing up that information gives work to the people that print that material. Bringing food from other country to indulge “Us” reinforces commerce. We have to hire more people to deal with them and therefore produce more jobs, yes I can see how having illegals is a problem, more jobs, more need for specialized services, more commerce, yes dreadful. The money that we spend at the store is the same color green as everyone else’s. We pay the same fuel tax, sale tax and every other tax that is impinged upon us whenever we are parts of this society.
Even when you are a “legal” alien, you are still expected to have the same responsibilities in paying taxes and going to work and abiding by the rules, but when it comes to election time, I have to let Bubba, who can’t get a job, who did not go to school, who I would not leave in charge of my cats, I have to let him pick the president. I believe that is criminal. It is also taxation without representation.
I know sir; you were going to suggest that I should become a citizen. I am in the interminable process of doing so, it has taken over 2 years and more than 750.00 to accomplish this and I am almost there, I think. You see sir, navigating the immigration system such as your legislators have designed it requires a lawyer’s legal knowledge, an accountant’s accuracy and a saint’s patience, oh yeah, and a bailout plan as well. Most of us who are legalized don’t take the step further because it is price prohibitive. Everyone who has something to say about illegals constantly say that we should become legalized and therefore naturalized but they don’t realize the process.
The cost is outrageous, the bureaucracy that hinders every step is overwhelming and the testing is a joke. I had a harder time answering questions to get a grocery savings card than at passing the naturalization test. One would think, sir, that if becoming part of this great nation was such a feat, you would require more understanding and more knowledgeable comprehension from your “would-be” citizens.
Because even being the “alien” that you have categorized me as, I am more informed, more aware and more educated and cultured than most of your denizens. I arrived in this country and I had to learn another language, learn another set of customs and another set of rules to the game. I have worked hard, studied hard and developed my skills and achieved more than most of your naturalized children have and yet my children will still be looked at funny because of their features and the color of their skin, and when I go to the grocery store, I will still be profiled and called an “illegal”
Therefore, Mr. Future President of the United States, take heart, yours will not be an easy task. You will have to show the country that what ails it are not the illegals, its not teenage pregnancy, it is not even the troubled youth or the education system.
Your biggest problem is greed. Greed that makes it ok for someone to buy cheap and consume endlessly without wondering where those resources and production came from. Greed that allow us to work someone inhuman hours and not pay them decent wages when we know that they have a family to care for. Greed that does not permit us to set up low cost clinics so that everyone has access to healthcare. Greed that thinks it is ok to call Hispanics “illegals” in a derogatory manner just because they left their country to get something better for them and their families (Like the Pilgrims and Italians and Polish and….. well EVERYONE, with the exception of the American Indians)
Greed and Ignorance.
Ours is a socioeconomic cancer that eats away at a culture that is so disconnected from its base it has no idea that it’s attached to the putrefaction at the core. Their “That is them and this is us” attitude which they feel will save them from the world. Poor fools, they haven’t yet realized, we can’t escape each other.
Sir, yours will be a difficult task.
Godspeed.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Victoria
I understand how Bristol Palin feels. There is certain defiance in being a teenage mom and also a fear that shakes you to the bone. I know that becoming a mother is a life-altering experience but being a young mother is all of that, and more.
I was seventeen when I “officially” found out that I was pregnant and only two weeks out of high school. I had suspected that I may have been pregnant but after an accident I had had x-rays and blood work done and nothing “came up”. I suspect divine intervention.
We finally made the doctor’s appointment and went in to see what could be done. The doctor took his cue and let me listen to my baby’s heart beat and well, the only thing to be done was to get ready. This baby would be born even if it killed me. Thankfully, it didn’t. My mom accepted grudgingly that I would be skipping college until the baby was born and that I would have my child and it would be ok. I told her everything would be alright and apparently all she needed was the reassurance, she just shrugged her shoulders and accepted that she would be a grandma very soon.
What I hadn’t told my mom was that I had wanted this baby since I understood about the birds and the bees. Like a maiden that calls to her love, I had called this baby to me, loving it and carving it out of my dreams and bringing it close to me with every stroke of the clock. The thought of her growing and living inside me made me feel alive and filled with love. I had no idea of the responsibilities and commitments that come with having a child and I lived oblivious of those facts until later. At that moment, I was in love. I sang to her and I talked to her and even though she hadn’t been born, I knew her. I had seen her in my dreams and I knew her soul. Her movements were in answer to my comments and we anticipated the moment when we would meet. Thinking of how it would be…
But nothing happened like I imagined it; nothing.
After passing my due date and wondering when nature would signal the coming of the child, I was urged by my cousin Arturo to go to the hospital. I didn’t feel sick but I felt kind of funny. I waited at the emergency room to be seen and the doctors told me that I had a very bad infection and that I needed to be admitted. No big deal, I thought, they took me to the maternity section and hooked me up to the antibiotics. Something happened and the baby’s heartbeat dropped and I was wheeled into the operating room. An emergency caesarean section got the baby out and she was wheeled away from me onto the newborn intensive care unit.
Victoria Alejandra Urban Martini was born on October 23, 1993 at 2:27 in the morning and was air-lifted to Miami Children’s hospital at 6 in the morning. The doctor was kind enough to let me call my mom and my sister to the hospital before he told me that the baby had a 50/50 chance of making it and that I wasn’t doing well either. As my baby was taken from me to get her treatment, I stayed back at the hospital where an aggressive routine of antibiotics was started and both, my baby and I, began a battle to wellness so that we may be reunited again.
The doctor told me that I would be in the hospital for five days. My baby was far away and Arturo, again saving the day, took my mom and my sister to the hospital so that my little angel knew that we were all on her side in this battle. He came to my hospital room after seeing her and told me, with a certainty and assuredness that the doctors had not transmitted, that she would be fine and that soon her and I would be home.
Victoria was released from the hospital 14 days after being born, pronounced healthy and whole and sent with the best wishes of that wonderful staff at the NICU unit. We came home and I quickly undressed my baby to make sure that she was whole and I took her in my arms and sighed with relief at seeing her, with my own eyes, safe and sound.
Victoria proceeded to steal our hearts and bring joy where few dared enter. She was her grandma’s darling and her aunt’s delight, the only one that pierced the darkness, the only one to make her smile. She walked into her aunt’s room not concerned about the “do not enter” sign on the door and reached out to her aunt’s soul and bonded with the one who refused to be loved. Together they played Cinderella and read books and even danced on Saturday morning cleanings as Victoria chased poor Sable’s tail and Yaly laughed at the merriment of her two loves playing together. Her father fell in love with her when she was one and she continues to enchant us all.
Today, she celebrates her Sweet Fifteen and she is more enchanting then ever. She is my dancing partner and my in-house editor; she is my partner in crime and my research buddy and baking assistant extraordinaire. She is a young woman who thinks for herself and is strong in her convictions and her beliefs. She is a loving sister and a devoted daughter, fiercely loyal, sarcastic like her stepfather and good-natured like her dad. She is everything that I could have wanted and more. She is her own woman.
I would love to tell you that I am glad that we have all done a great job raising her but aside from guiding her, I did nothing. She came hardwired with all of the things that make her who she is. She is instinctively protective and loving and understanding and kind. She is an amazing girl that has brought more love and joy to my life than I could have imagined possible. Having her has brought me enlightenment. Having every wish of mine fulfilled in who she is helps me realize the perfection of the universe and, as we sneak into my bed and giggle and laugh ‘til our sides ache and we can’t breathe, I unravel the mystery of unconditional love.
My Princess:
Let my humble writings show you how proud I am that you chose me. How wonderful life is because I share it with you and how much I have learned from having you in my life. I have enjoyed the past 15 years, getting to know you and growing together, you to be a woman, me to be whole. I look forward to the rest of our lives where I can see what new things you’ll create and what new life you’ll find. Always know that my love to you is unconditional and unshakable and that I am better person for the blessing of your love.
Happy Sweet Fifteen Princess….
Shine on Princess, Shine on!!!! It’s a Whole New World out there!
Love you more than anything in the W.W.W
Mom
I was seventeen when I “officially” found out that I was pregnant and only two weeks out of high school. I had suspected that I may have been pregnant but after an accident I had had x-rays and blood work done and nothing “came up”. I suspect divine intervention.
We finally made the doctor’s appointment and went in to see what could be done. The doctor took his cue and let me listen to my baby’s heart beat and well, the only thing to be done was to get ready. This baby would be born even if it killed me. Thankfully, it didn’t. My mom accepted grudgingly that I would be skipping college until the baby was born and that I would have my child and it would be ok. I told her everything would be alright and apparently all she needed was the reassurance, she just shrugged her shoulders and accepted that she would be a grandma very soon.
What I hadn’t told my mom was that I had wanted this baby since I understood about the birds and the bees. Like a maiden that calls to her love, I had called this baby to me, loving it and carving it out of my dreams and bringing it close to me with every stroke of the clock. The thought of her growing and living inside me made me feel alive and filled with love. I had no idea of the responsibilities and commitments that come with having a child and I lived oblivious of those facts until later. At that moment, I was in love. I sang to her and I talked to her and even though she hadn’t been born, I knew her. I had seen her in my dreams and I knew her soul. Her movements were in answer to my comments and we anticipated the moment when we would meet. Thinking of how it would be…
But nothing happened like I imagined it; nothing.
After passing my due date and wondering when nature would signal the coming of the child, I was urged by my cousin Arturo to go to the hospital. I didn’t feel sick but I felt kind of funny. I waited at the emergency room to be seen and the doctors told me that I had a very bad infection and that I needed to be admitted. No big deal, I thought, they took me to the maternity section and hooked me up to the antibiotics. Something happened and the baby’s heartbeat dropped and I was wheeled into the operating room. An emergency caesarean section got the baby out and she was wheeled away from me onto the newborn intensive care unit.
Victoria Alejandra Urban Martini was born on October 23, 1993 at 2:27 in the morning and was air-lifted to Miami Children’s hospital at 6 in the morning. The doctor was kind enough to let me call my mom and my sister to the hospital before he told me that the baby had a 50/50 chance of making it and that I wasn’t doing well either. As my baby was taken from me to get her treatment, I stayed back at the hospital where an aggressive routine of antibiotics was started and both, my baby and I, began a battle to wellness so that we may be reunited again.
The doctor told me that I would be in the hospital for five days. My baby was far away and Arturo, again saving the day, took my mom and my sister to the hospital so that my little angel knew that we were all on her side in this battle. He came to my hospital room after seeing her and told me, with a certainty and assuredness that the doctors had not transmitted, that she would be fine and that soon her and I would be home.
Victoria was released from the hospital 14 days after being born, pronounced healthy and whole and sent with the best wishes of that wonderful staff at the NICU unit. We came home and I quickly undressed my baby to make sure that she was whole and I took her in my arms and sighed with relief at seeing her, with my own eyes, safe and sound.
Victoria proceeded to steal our hearts and bring joy where few dared enter. She was her grandma’s darling and her aunt’s delight, the only one that pierced the darkness, the only one to make her smile. She walked into her aunt’s room not concerned about the “do not enter” sign on the door and reached out to her aunt’s soul and bonded with the one who refused to be loved. Together they played Cinderella and read books and even danced on Saturday morning cleanings as Victoria chased poor Sable’s tail and Yaly laughed at the merriment of her two loves playing together. Her father fell in love with her when she was one and she continues to enchant us all.
Today, she celebrates her Sweet Fifteen and she is more enchanting then ever. She is my dancing partner and my in-house editor; she is my partner in crime and my research buddy and baking assistant extraordinaire. She is a young woman who thinks for herself and is strong in her convictions and her beliefs. She is a loving sister and a devoted daughter, fiercely loyal, sarcastic like her stepfather and good-natured like her dad. She is everything that I could have wanted and more. She is her own woman.
I would love to tell you that I am glad that we have all done a great job raising her but aside from guiding her, I did nothing. She came hardwired with all of the things that make her who she is. She is instinctively protective and loving and understanding and kind. She is an amazing girl that has brought more love and joy to my life than I could have imagined possible. Having her has brought me enlightenment. Having every wish of mine fulfilled in who she is helps me realize the perfection of the universe and, as we sneak into my bed and giggle and laugh ‘til our sides ache and we can’t breathe, I unravel the mystery of unconditional love.
My Princess:
Let my humble writings show you how proud I am that you chose me. How wonderful life is because I share it with you and how much I have learned from having you in my life. I have enjoyed the past 15 years, getting to know you and growing together, you to be a woman, me to be whole. I look forward to the rest of our lives where I can see what new things you’ll create and what new life you’ll find. Always know that my love to you is unconditional and unshakable and that I am better person for the blessing of your love.
Happy Sweet Fifteen Princess….
Shine on Princess, Shine on!!!! It’s a Whole New World out there!
Love you more than anything in the W.W.W
Mom
Tell her
You have no idea how glad I am to know that she is real. I kept feeling something amiss for such a long while and to hear you tell it, of course, nothing is wrong.
Don’t worry, I am not angry, I am relieved. There is nothing worst than feeling something and hearing someone deny what you are feeling. The confusion it creates is enough to drive anyone crazy, and well I don’t need much help.
But you shouldn’t worry, I know nothing about the details of your friendship, nor do I want to know. Whether you continue them or not, whether it is more or not, it concerns you two, not me.
Tell her that I am relieved that on those days when I wasn’t available to you, at least she was able to be there for you and talk to you. Tell her that I am glad that as you cruised in your truck many, many miles away from here that at least someone else was wondering about you and who knows, perhaps loving you too.
Tell her that in the dark nights when I wonder what you are doing, at least I am grateful to know that it is she that keeps you company and that never do I have to worry about whether or not I do enough or love you enough, there is someone else that can take care of you as well.
Tell her that even though I love you I understand the need for someone else there. Tell her that I knew that she existed long before any suspicions aroused and that perhaps I always knew of the possibility of someone like her in your life.
Tell her that I understand if she says that the relationship is nothing more than a friendship and that all you guys do is talk shop, tell her it is ok, I no longer require any explanations.
Furthermore, I understand why she would have such an important role in your life, someone who understands the trials of always being on the road and always having to be away from home, really, who better than someone who has already been there.
Tell her that I am impressed. There are very few people who command your attention such as she has and that knowing how much she is keeping you interested makes me feel better, because then I realize that it is nothing fleeting and that she will be around for a while. Tell her not to be modest, I know how much you guys are in touch and I think its great that you have so much to share with each other.
Tell her that what remains between us is no more than a partnership based on concern for the well being of our common children and friendship. Tell her that I no longer wish to participate in a physical relationship with you and that I bequeath that role to her. I am a little less than generous in that and if there is the slightest doubt that we would share then I would rather she took on that entire role. I can’t.
Tell her that I love you dearly and unconditionally and that will never change. That long ago your actions stopped dictating my love for you and that I know you far better than you give me credit for and that despite your ways, I still choose to love you.
Tell her that I begrudge her nothing and that I wish for her to be happy and to make you as happy as you deserve to be made.
Tell her that it is pointless now for her to hide her existence, tell her that I know about her and that she no longer has to go through all of those extra steps to block herself from me. Tell her that I know and that it doesn’t matter. I love you because loving you makes me feel good not because I need you to love me. Tell her that if you love each other that I am glad and that I give it my blessing and the children and I will always wish for your happiness, I couldn’t think of anyone more deserving, my love.
Don’t worry, I am not angry, I am relieved. There is nothing worst than feeling something and hearing someone deny what you are feeling. The confusion it creates is enough to drive anyone crazy, and well I don’t need much help.
But you shouldn’t worry, I know nothing about the details of your friendship, nor do I want to know. Whether you continue them or not, whether it is more or not, it concerns you two, not me.
Tell her that I am relieved that on those days when I wasn’t available to you, at least she was able to be there for you and talk to you. Tell her that I am glad that as you cruised in your truck many, many miles away from here that at least someone else was wondering about you and who knows, perhaps loving you too.
Tell her that in the dark nights when I wonder what you are doing, at least I am grateful to know that it is she that keeps you company and that never do I have to worry about whether or not I do enough or love you enough, there is someone else that can take care of you as well.
Tell her that even though I love you I understand the need for someone else there. Tell her that I knew that she existed long before any suspicions aroused and that perhaps I always knew of the possibility of someone like her in your life.
Tell her that I understand if she says that the relationship is nothing more than a friendship and that all you guys do is talk shop, tell her it is ok, I no longer require any explanations.
Furthermore, I understand why she would have such an important role in your life, someone who understands the trials of always being on the road and always having to be away from home, really, who better than someone who has already been there.
Tell her that I am impressed. There are very few people who command your attention such as she has and that knowing how much she is keeping you interested makes me feel better, because then I realize that it is nothing fleeting and that she will be around for a while. Tell her not to be modest, I know how much you guys are in touch and I think its great that you have so much to share with each other.
Tell her that what remains between us is no more than a partnership based on concern for the well being of our common children and friendship. Tell her that I no longer wish to participate in a physical relationship with you and that I bequeath that role to her. I am a little less than generous in that and if there is the slightest doubt that we would share then I would rather she took on that entire role. I can’t.
Tell her that I love you dearly and unconditionally and that will never change. That long ago your actions stopped dictating my love for you and that I know you far better than you give me credit for and that despite your ways, I still choose to love you.
Tell her that I begrudge her nothing and that I wish for her to be happy and to make you as happy as you deserve to be made.
Tell her that it is pointless now for her to hide her existence, tell her that I know about her and that she no longer has to go through all of those extra steps to block herself from me. Tell her that I know and that it doesn’t matter. I love you because loving you makes me feel good not because I need you to love me. Tell her that if you love each other that I am glad and that I give it my blessing and the children and I will always wish for your happiness, I couldn’t think of anyone more deserving, my love.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Letter to myself
Dear Chinita:
I know you are afraid. Hold my hand, I can’t make it better for you but maybe together we can get through it. Don’t worry, I won’t leave you.
Things may seem confusing to you. Words don’t make sense and people don’t make sense, the only constant it seems, is the fear. Their shouting and screaming has nothing to do with you, their angry words are not about you. You didn’t do anything to make him drink and make him angry. You can’t stop it or make it change and it’s not anything you did.
Its ok, it’s ok to be afraid. You don’t have to be brave for them, let it be. They are adults and they know what they are doing. Stay here with me, warm and cozy in bed, don’t go out there, there is nothing for you to see!!!
Come back here with me. I know you had to go out there and try to help, I know why you got involved, but I also knew that it wouldn’t stop them, that’s why I tried to keep you from it. Did he hurt you? I am glad he didn’t, I thought definitely when he pushed you against the wall you had been hurt, but maybe he just wanted to get you out of the way.
I don’t know why he gets like this baby. Alcoholism is an illness and daddy is definitely sick. You know he is different when he isn’t drinking and he talks to you and plays with you and he is good. But sometimes older people are hurting inside and instead of trying to make it better they drink to make it go away, but we know that doesn’t work, does it?
Oh honey, he is not doing this to hurt you. This has nothing to do with you. Even if daddy were to make the worst mistake ever, it would have nothing to do with you. It would be better for you if you were not here, I know, but until mom decides to leave, there isn’t much we can do. Just stay here with me next time they fight, I am just so afraid that you are going to get hurt.
Hey, but at least that police officer was nice. He took you to the station and he was kind and gave you toys and at least took you out of the room when they started fighting again. You know, you would think they would be more careful than to argue in front of the sergeant, but I guess there is no helping it. We could have been out of the station way before dawn, like every other time, instead we missed school and now we are stuck at home waiting for him to be released and come back.
No, neither one of them is a bad person. They are both sick.
Yes, mom too. If she wasn’t sick, she wouldn’t stay with him and go back so many times even though he always ends up doing the same thing.
Of course not, it has nothing to do with you asking her to let him back to the house. She is an adult and she knows what she can and cannot do; besides, in the middle of the anger and the violence, she can’t protect you. How many times has she found bruises on you where she thought there would be none, it would be so easy to see what is happening. I know you are just trying to get him to stop hitting her, but how can you do that when you are only a little girl??? This isn’t your fault, you didn’t make this happen.
I am sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice, I know it scares you. I am sorry, don’t cry. Nothing you ever did or didn’t do made this happen. Yes, it would be easier if Yaly was home but then again, maybe not, we will just never know.
Remember tomorrow is Sunday and we go to Tere’s house. You can play and maybe Mary will take you to the next block and you can watch Gringo and Papi play soccer. If you and Jessica behave, she will take you and then you don’t have to be in the house when mom has to explain to Tere why they were fighting again. Your padrino will be there and maybe with your allowance you can buy some candy and chancay, you can save it again and we can have it here under the desk when they start fighting again, you know it will make you feel better. I know, I wish Tere would let us live in her house, and I think Tere would, but mom won’t let us. I know it’s not fair, I know you don’t like to be here because they will fight but I don’t think we can do anything about that.
Don’t go back out there. He already broke the phone; you can’t call anyone for help. No, the neighbors won’t help and even if they did help, remember what happened with Papi and Celso, they came to get you guys out of the house and daddy said something to them with that scary look in his eyes and they left, and left us here with him.
Stop listening, here, let’s look at this book. Yes, he is breaking the furniture, but what can you do??? You can’t make a grown man stop, get the maid to come down to your room and stay here with us. Don’t go out there, you always get in between him and her and he ends up hitting you and I can’t take that, it scares me. That’s a mirror breaking, you can’t go out there in all of that glass, don’t cry, I know you are afraid but there is nothing you can do.
It’s over now, the police took them. Yea, it’s a good thing they left us here, now will you please stay in bed while the maid cleans up the mess over there? I know it was a lot of blood, but noses are funny that way, they bleed like that. She is not very badly hurt and besides she said she would come for you before she went to the hospital for the x-rays, so you will be with her soon. She is ok, don’t cry, you couldn’t have protected her, she is ok.
Will you try and sleep now? They are both gone. It’s finally peaceful. Close your eyes, that’s a good girl. Close your eyes and yes, mom loves you, yes, yes, daddy loves you too. Of course they do, this has nothing to do with them loving you, don’t be silly. This has nothing to do with you. I promise, you will be ok. You are loved.
I know you are afraid. Hold my hand, I can’t make it better for you but maybe together we can get through it. Don’t worry, I won’t leave you.
Things may seem confusing to you. Words don’t make sense and people don’t make sense, the only constant it seems, is the fear. Their shouting and screaming has nothing to do with you, their angry words are not about you. You didn’t do anything to make him drink and make him angry. You can’t stop it or make it change and it’s not anything you did.
Its ok, it’s ok to be afraid. You don’t have to be brave for them, let it be. They are adults and they know what they are doing. Stay here with me, warm and cozy in bed, don’t go out there, there is nothing for you to see!!!
Come back here with me. I know you had to go out there and try to help, I know why you got involved, but I also knew that it wouldn’t stop them, that’s why I tried to keep you from it. Did he hurt you? I am glad he didn’t, I thought definitely when he pushed you against the wall you had been hurt, but maybe he just wanted to get you out of the way.
I don’t know why he gets like this baby. Alcoholism is an illness and daddy is definitely sick. You know he is different when he isn’t drinking and he talks to you and plays with you and he is good. But sometimes older people are hurting inside and instead of trying to make it better they drink to make it go away, but we know that doesn’t work, does it?
Oh honey, he is not doing this to hurt you. This has nothing to do with you. Even if daddy were to make the worst mistake ever, it would have nothing to do with you. It would be better for you if you were not here, I know, but until mom decides to leave, there isn’t much we can do. Just stay here with me next time they fight, I am just so afraid that you are going to get hurt.
Hey, but at least that police officer was nice. He took you to the station and he was kind and gave you toys and at least took you out of the room when they started fighting again. You know, you would think they would be more careful than to argue in front of the sergeant, but I guess there is no helping it. We could have been out of the station way before dawn, like every other time, instead we missed school and now we are stuck at home waiting for him to be released and come back.
No, neither one of them is a bad person. They are both sick.
Yes, mom too. If she wasn’t sick, she wouldn’t stay with him and go back so many times even though he always ends up doing the same thing.
Of course not, it has nothing to do with you asking her to let him back to the house. She is an adult and she knows what she can and cannot do; besides, in the middle of the anger and the violence, she can’t protect you. How many times has she found bruises on you where she thought there would be none, it would be so easy to see what is happening. I know you are just trying to get him to stop hitting her, but how can you do that when you are only a little girl??? This isn’t your fault, you didn’t make this happen.
I am sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice, I know it scares you. I am sorry, don’t cry. Nothing you ever did or didn’t do made this happen. Yes, it would be easier if Yaly was home but then again, maybe not, we will just never know.
Remember tomorrow is Sunday and we go to Tere’s house. You can play and maybe Mary will take you to the next block and you can watch Gringo and Papi play soccer. If you and Jessica behave, she will take you and then you don’t have to be in the house when mom has to explain to Tere why they were fighting again. Your padrino will be there and maybe with your allowance you can buy some candy and chancay, you can save it again and we can have it here under the desk when they start fighting again, you know it will make you feel better. I know, I wish Tere would let us live in her house, and I think Tere would, but mom won’t let us. I know it’s not fair, I know you don’t like to be here because they will fight but I don’t think we can do anything about that.
Don’t go back out there. He already broke the phone; you can’t call anyone for help. No, the neighbors won’t help and even if they did help, remember what happened with Papi and Celso, they came to get you guys out of the house and daddy said something to them with that scary look in his eyes and they left, and left us here with him.
Stop listening, here, let’s look at this book. Yes, he is breaking the furniture, but what can you do??? You can’t make a grown man stop, get the maid to come down to your room and stay here with us. Don’t go out there, you always get in between him and her and he ends up hitting you and I can’t take that, it scares me. That’s a mirror breaking, you can’t go out there in all of that glass, don’t cry, I know you are afraid but there is nothing you can do.
It’s over now, the police took them. Yea, it’s a good thing they left us here, now will you please stay in bed while the maid cleans up the mess over there? I know it was a lot of blood, but noses are funny that way, they bleed like that. She is not very badly hurt and besides she said she would come for you before she went to the hospital for the x-rays, so you will be with her soon. She is ok, don’t cry, you couldn’t have protected her, she is ok.
Will you try and sleep now? They are both gone. It’s finally peaceful. Close your eyes, that’s a good girl. Close your eyes and yes, mom loves you, yes, yes, daddy loves you too. Of course they do, this has nothing to do with them loving you, don’t be silly. This has nothing to do with you. I promise, you will be ok. You are loved.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Death changes how you live life.
Death changes how you live life. No two people touched by the same loss will come away from it with the same lesson or message. As our beloved move on from our physical existence, our s+ense of self changes and we redefine ourselves based on this change.
Depending on your age when you are first confronted with death, its occurrence in your life will mark a changing point in your philosophy.
My first personal experience with death was very close and personal. I was young, I was a child and yet the enormity of the loss overwhelmed my senses and my inner compass spun around aimlessly. Teco was more than just an aunt, she was my friend. I hadn't known her long, I was only a girl, but in her I found a kindred spirit and a loving heart. There are very few people who as adults really know how to listen to a child, instinctively she did and she let me pour my heart out to her and gave me an anchor in this new world. I do not dare compare my loss and its impact with what others, who knew her and loved her felt, I just know that at that moment, everything changed.
Death wouldn't show up in my life again until many years later. Despite the fact that in a family as large as mine it is inevitable that there should be as many exits as entrances, none of the deaths touched me personally. Until my sister died.
It had been an uneventful morning, I was on the internet looking for a birthday present for my mom, her birthday had been the day before and I hadn't forgotten, I just hadn't found anything that I wanted to gift her. Then the phone rang and my life was never the same again.
I remember everything, the screams, the confusion, the impotence, yet I remember nothing. Instantaneously my emotions shut down. I made the phone calls I needed to make, I packed my suitcases and packed up my car and headed south, I headed home. I drove from Cincinnati to Fort Lauderdale non-stop. I remember absolutely nothing of the trip, I came back to myself when I saw the Cypress Creek Road sign and I made my exit off of 95.
I got home and I took my mother in my arms. She was a frail thing that aged a lifetime in one day and whose world had been shaken upside down. I walked into my house and felt the despair hit me like a wall, she wasn't coming down the stairs to greet me, we wouldn't share one more cigarette at the door, my sister was gone.
People kept coming to me telling me my mom wasn't ok, wondering if I was ok, saying words of comfort, I am sure; I heard nothing, I felt nothing. I walked around the house looking for a sign of what had happened and why, yet those walls held no answers for me, she had left and taken all the answers with her.
Arrangements were made and plans for her funeral readied and the moment came to say my last goodbye. I followed her wishes as she explained them to me many months before her actual death. She wanted to be cremated, no viewing and no typical funeral get-togethers. I walked into the funeral home with a handful of my relatives and fell apart. This was the same funeral home where I had come to say my last goodbyes to my aunt, all of the overwhelming feelings that had been kept at bay flooded my heart again as I walked into that viewing room to say goodbye to my sister.
I know that there were people with my mom, I don't know who and I haven't thanked them yet, but at that moment I truly understood that she was really gone.
She laid there in the favorite blouse that I had picked out and delivered to the funeral home. She lay with her hands crossed at her navel and seemingly asleep, except I knew she wasn't asleep. I walked close to her and reached out for her hand, her pretty delicate hands, and I tried to take them into mine but I couldn't move them, she was already in death's arms and she could not hold my hand through this. I looked at her and wanted to pull her back to me, to bring her back into our world and into our complicities, into our heated conversations about everything and anything and into the songs that we had sang at the top of our lungs. I begged her at that moment not to leave me, I confessed that I didn't think that I could do this, that I was not strong enough to get myself and mom through this and that she had to come back, please, one more talk, one more hug, one more I love you, not this goodbye.
But it couldn't be. I can never know what her last thoughts had been, if she'd remember our good moments, our laughs. I will never know if she knew how much I love her, how much she means to me and how empty my life is without her. I will never be able to tell her how much I looked up to her and that more than a sister, I lost my best friend. I walked away that day a different woman.
The life that I had built before losing her was no longer enough, suddenly the frailty of life had been demonstrated and I could no longer go back to my old life so I moved on. Much has happened in my life since and not a day goes by that I don't wonder what it would be like if you were still here. I can almost see you in your comfy chair reading to your nieces and nephew. I can see you taking pride in your nephew's drawings, gratified that at least one of them is artistic like you. I can see you spoiling the girls rotten and calling and talking to Victoria about her plans and chatting to Gabriela about her day at school. You and I would be tearing up this election and making plans for thanksgiving and Christmas and you would ask me if I was happy, like you always did, and I would tell you Yes and I would steal a hug and a kiss and we would giggle and laugh like if we were girls.
I have had other losses. My aunts, friends and even my father passed away, yet nothing had the effect on me that losing my sister did. She was supposed to have been there when mom was not, she was supposed to have been there and not have left me, again, now I don't know what will be. I do know Yalita that death cannot take away the memories and the happiness we once shared. It cannot block the love we felt and the fact that despite the illness and distance and age differences, love knows no boundaries, no loss.
So with you in my heart and hope in my eyes, I take one more step towards life and hope that you are watching from wherever you are.
This is for all of you that know only too well what it is to have lost someone you love.
All of my Love,
Claudia
Depending on your age when you are first confronted with death, its occurrence in your life will mark a changing point in your philosophy.
My first personal experience with death was very close and personal. I was young, I was a child and yet the enormity of the loss overwhelmed my senses and my inner compass spun around aimlessly. Teco was more than just an aunt, she was my friend. I hadn't known her long, I was only a girl, but in her I found a kindred spirit and a loving heart. There are very few people who as adults really know how to listen to a child, instinctively she did and she let me pour my heart out to her and gave me an anchor in this new world. I do not dare compare my loss and its impact with what others, who knew her and loved her felt, I just know that at that moment, everything changed.
Death wouldn't show up in my life again until many years later. Despite the fact that in a family as large as mine it is inevitable that there should be as many exits as entrances, none of the deaths touched me personally. Until my sister died.
It had been an uneventful morning, I was on the internet looking for a birthday present for my mom, her birthday had been the day before and I hadn't forgotten, I just hadn't found anything that I wanted to gift her. Then the phone rang and my life was never the same again.
I remember everything, the screams, the confusion, the impotence, yet I remember nothing. Instantaneously my emotions shut down. I made the phone calls I needed to make, I packed my suitcases and packed up my car and headed south, I headed home. I drove from Cincinnati to Fort Lauderdale non-stop. I remember absolutely nothing of the trip, I came back to myself when I saw the Cypress Creek Road sign and I made my exit off of 95.
I got home and I took my mother in my arms. She was a frail thing that aged a lifetime in one day and whose world had been shaken upside down. I walked into my house and felt the despair hit me like a wall, she wasn't coming down the stairs to greet me, we wouldn't share one more cigarette at the door, my sister was gone.
People kept coming to me telling me my mom wasn't ok, wondering if I was ok, saying words of comfort, I am sure; I heard nothing, I felt nothing. I walked around the house looking for a sign of what had happened and why, yet those walls held no answers for me, she had left and taken all the answers with her.
Arrangements were made and plans for her funeral readied and the moment came to say my last goodbye. I followed her wishes as she explained them to me many months before her actual death. She wanted to be cremated, no viewing and no typical funeral get-togethers. I walked into the funeral home with a handful of my relatives and fell apart. This was the same funeral home where I had come to say my last goodbyes to my aunt, all of the overwhelming feelings that had been kept at bay flooded my heart again as I walked into that viewing room to say goodbye to my sister.
I know that there were people with my mom, I don't know who and I haven't thanked them yet, but at that moment I truly understood that she was really gone.
She laid there in the favorite blouse that I had picked out and delivered to the funeral home. She lay with her hands crossed at her navel and seemingly asleep, except I knew she wasn't asleep. I walked close to her and reached out for her hand, her pretty delicate hands, and I tried to take them into mine but I couldn't move them, she was already in death's arms and she could not hold my hand through this. I looked at her and wanted to pull her back to me, to bring her back into our world and into our complicities, into our heated conversations about everything and anything and into the songs that we had sang at the top of our lungs. I begged her at that moment not to leave me, I confessed that I didn't think that I could do this, that I was not strong enough to get myself and mom through this and that she had to come back, please, one more talk, one more hug, one more I love you, not this goodbye.
But it couldn't be. I can never know what her last thoughts had been, if she'd remember our good moments, our laughs. I will never know if she knew how much I love her, how much she means to me and how empty my life is without her. I will never be able to tell her how much I looked up to her and that more than a sister, I lost my best friend. I walked away that day a different woman.
The life that I had built before losing her was no longer enough, suddenly the frailty of life had been demonstrated and I could no longer go back to my old life so I moved on. Much has happened in my life since and not a day goes by that I don't wonder what it would be like if you were still here. I can almost see you in your comfy chair reading to your nieces and nephew. I can see you taking pride in your nephew's drawings, gratified that at least one of them is artistic like you. I can see you spoiling the girls rotten and calling and talking to Victoria about her plans and chatting to Gabriela about her day at school. You and I would be tearing up this election and making plans for thanksgiving and Christmas and you would ask me if I was happy, like you always did, and I would tell you Yes and I would steal a hug and a kiss and we would giggle and laugh like if we were girls.
I have had other losses. My aunts, friends and even my father passed away, yet nothing had the effect on me that losing my sister did. She was supposed to have been there when mom was not, she was supposed to have been there and not have left me, again, now I don't know what will be. I do know Yalita that death cannot take away the memories and the happiness we once shared. It cannot block the love we felt and the fact that despite the illness and distance and age differences, love knows no boundaries, no loss.
So with you in my heart and hope in my eyes, I take one more step towards life and hope that you are watching from wherever you are.
This is for all of you that know only too well what it is to have lost someone you love.
All of my Love,
Claudia
Sweetest Day
I have a confession to make. It's not right, I know. But there was no helping it, it could not be changed, it happened and I really don't even know how, but I know that this is the way it has to be.
There are two men in my life.
They both know about each other and they both know it can't be helped. They have accepted that I love them both and I can't give them up. They are my beloved. I love them both, I cannot live without them and I won't.
One of them is handsome and strong, powerful and creative, unique and larger than life. He is his own person; he knew the secret way before it was main stream. He is a compassionate soul that will not let you get away with giving less than your absolute best but will stand by you when the strongest winds knock you down. He is fearless in the face of change and is divinely aware of his imperfections. We can stay up until all hours of the night talking about life and love, Tangamandapio and fashion, all in the same conversation. We know when something is wrong with the other one without making a call. We recognize the heavy load of life in each other's voice and with arms of love reach across the miles to heal the emptiness we sometimes run into. We can right each other's wrongs and see with eyes of wisdom into the stories we tell the others. We have been there through all of our phases and know that we will be there until the end. Love between us flows unconditionally and ever lasting for our bond reaches through the ages and times. His shoulder has been my comfort and his light my guide. Whenever I didn't have the courage to stand up for myself, he stood for me. He held my hand until I found my path again; and in the darkness of my most scary times, he never wavered, he never doubted. He believed in me when no one else did. He saw me for whom I was and accepted me even when I couldn't accept myself. He is part of my homestead, my family, my soul. The one who can put me back together when I fall apart, he is a part of me, my brother, my soul mate.
The other one is handsome and strong (yes I am surrounded by handsome men), independent and courageous, loving, loyal and daring. He has the heart of a lion, always standing up to each challenge and facing every obstacle head on. You can knock him down; he will get up, no matter what. He is strong in his convictions and his beliefs. He has faith that moves mountains and is committed to his own sense of right. He is a loving and attentive father, reaching across the miles so that his children know that even though he may be far away, his love is always with them, always protecting them, always guiding them. He willingly goes out to that truck and puts it in gear to drive away from home, knowing that he is doing what he needs to do to take care of his family. He is funny and affectionate, caring and tender and true to himself and to those he loves. He is comfortable in his own skin and accepts me exactly as I am. Perhaps you don't know this side of him, then again, not many do. His love is my shelter, my stronghold. No matter where we go, in his embrace, I am home. His words may not always say what I want to hear but the melody of his voice sings the song of my heart. I cannot claim that I posses him, only that I am blessed with his love in return. His love is my lifesaver, my rock. There is no one else I would do this with. He is my best friend, my partner, my lover and my love, and the most fascinating man I have ever known.
Their love supports me, lifts me and carries me through dark times. Their love is unshakable and unconditional. My soul is enriched because of their presence in my life.
Many women have not found Mr. Right. I have been blessed to have found two men that have changed my life and that have, with their love, taught me to love and be myself. Today I celebrate their presence in my life and share with you a new way to recognize the many faces of love. May your path be filled with loving people throughout your way. Happy Sweetest Day!!
Happy Sweetest Day Luis, Brother-of-my-soul!
Happy Sweetest Day Tony, Love-of-my-life!!
There are two men in my life.
They both know about each other and they both know it can't be helped. They have accepted that I love them both and I can't give them up. They are my beloved. I love them both, I cannot live without them and I won't.
One of them is handsome and strong, powerful and creative, unique and larger than life. He is his own person; he knew the secret way before it was main stream. He is a compassionate soul that will not let you get away with giving less than your absolute best but will stand by you when the strongest winds knock you down. He is fearless in the face of change and is divinely aware of his imperfections. We can stay up until all hours of the night talking about life and love, Tangamandapio and fashion, all in the same conversation. We know when something is wrong with the other one without making a call. We recognize the heavy load of life in each other's voice and with arms of love reach across the miles to heal the emptiness we sometimes run into. We can right each other's wrongs and see with eyes of wisdom into the stories we tell the others. We have been there through all of our phases and know that we will be there until the end. Love between us flows unconditionally and ever lasting for our bond reaches through the ages and times. His shoulder has been my comfort and his light my guide. Whenever I didn't have the courage to stand up for myself, he stood for me. He held my hand until I found my path again; and in the darkness of my most scary times, he never wavered, he never doubted. He believed in me when no one else did. He saw me for whom I was and accepted me even when I couldn't accept myself. He is part of my homestead, my family, my soul. The one who can put me back together when I fall apart, he is a part of me, my brother, my soul mate.
The other one is handsome and strong (yes I am surrounded by handsome men), independent and courageous, loving, loyal and daring. He has the heart of a lion, always standing up to each challenge and facing every obstacle head on. You can knock him down; he will get up, no matter what. He is strong in his convictions and his beliefs. He has faith that moves mountains and is committed to his own sense of right. He is a loving and attentive father, reaching across the miles so that his children know that even though he may be far away, his love is always with them, always protecting them, always guiding them. He willingly goes out to that truck and puts it in gear to drive away from home, knowing that he is doing what he needs to do to take care of his family. He is funny and affectionate, caring and tender and true to himself and to those he loves. He is comfortable in his own skin and accepts me exactly as I am. Perhaps you don't know this side of him, then again, not many do. His love is my shelter, my stronghold. No matter where we go, in his embrace, I am home. His words may not always say what I want to hear but the melody of his voice sings the song of my heart. I cannot claim that I posses him, only that I am blessed with his love in return. His love is my lifesaver, my rock. There is no one else I would do this with. He is my best friend, my partner, my lover and my love, and the most fascinating man I have ever known.
Their love supports me, lifts me and carries me through dark times. Their love is unshakable and unconditional. My soul is enriched because of their presence in my life.
Many women have not found Mr. Right. I have been blessed to have found two men that have changed my life and that have, with their love, taught me to love and be myself. Today I celebrate their presence in my life and share with you a new way to recognize the many faces of love. May your path be filled with loving people throughout your way. Happy Sweetest Day!!
Happy Sweetest Day Luis, Brother-of-my-soul!
Happy Sweetest Day Tony, Love-of-my-life!!
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