2013 Part I

You know how there's these traits you have and you can't figure out if ti's cool or weird?  Yeah me too.

One of those traits is sentimentalism.  Whether it's old photos, or emails from a while, or accounts I look at with notes from 3 years ago, I find myself wondering what I was doing at that time/date.  Life changes also bring about these thoughts . . .

We're just 30 days away from moving out of our apartment.  I've yet to confirm a place where we are going, we just know we aren't going to be there.  I remember my dad telling me that 400 sq feet was going to make a difference, and of course, I didn't believe him.

What' I've come to realize is that I was right, and so was he.  It really wasn't the 400 sq feet of house I'd lost, although there were many a night I would have given anything for 5 minutes of peace and quiet.  Rather, it was the huge yard we had in the back that I'd missed.  Funniest thing was, it wasn't for me but for the kids.  Bless their hearts, how many days did they spend cooped up inside a 1000 sq ft apartment?  How many times did they long to play outside, forced inside by Mother Nature?

A year ago today, we'd received notice that our owner had intended on selling the house where we'd live for a few years.  We'd knew the day was coming, with a string of potential owners coming by every day (or so it seemed).  With mold in the bathroom, and ruined carpet, along with an owner who didn't want to invest any more money, we decided to move.

Irony - isn't it great?  2 days after I signed the (binding) contract with the apartment place, the owner came back to us and said the short sale had fallen through . . . .  I've wondered several times after that if I'd made the right decision.  Then I remember the bathroom . . . . yuck.

Over the last year we've endured rough weather, crazy neighbors (reminded me of Friends episodes), and being pack like sardines.  We've seen our family grow (by 3) and are in the process of growing by one more (Perla).  Through all the laughter and the tears, what a ride it's been.  Stephanie is finally talking, and has grown even closer to me.  I hear about how that will change soon, but must admit I'm not ready for that day - yet, maybe ever.

Sunday nights

are a dread, especially over these last 6 years or so.  That final night before going back to work, one last breath of free air before starting the routine all over again.  After all, you can never have too much fun.

Some weekends are not restful.  Some are rough, Stephanie can be precocious.  Other times, we don't get along, as is normal.  Normal in marriage, normal in any relationship really.  We are human after all.  And if i was honest, yes, there are some morning i can't wait to get back to work.

Yet those weekends are few and far between.  Tonight, the air is filled with laughter, the vibe is one that nobody wants to go to bed.  Everyone of us hang around in an attempt to suck the very last drop of sweet nectar that has been this weekend.  The food has been great, the company even better.  Busy, yet more than enough time to rest. 

I have such a happy home.  Granted it's work to keep it that way- you can be sure of that.  But it's more than worth it, and i love my life.  These moments are what life is made of.  I have dreamed of this life for so long . . . it's better than I could have imagined.

So i thought i'd share it with you.  It's almost ten and at some point the night will wind down.  But not yet.  And don't be worried about tomorrow.  SomeOne's got it under control.  Just turn up the stereo and enjoy tonight a little bit longer . . . .

http://youtu.be/T3E9Wjbq44E



 

Family

I'm going to do and be something that I don't usually do and that's be bold.  This blog is going to be different.  I've spent the last year and 3 months trying to write what would people wanted to read.  I've quietly wondered who reads my blogs, and became so discouraged when readership was low, that I actually quit for a while.

You see I grew up in a conservative home, one whose inward goings on definitely did not match what was shown on Sunday morning.  The challenging part with emotional scars is that they aren't visible, but oftentimes the effects are.  I was trained to be a certain way and all the way to college and beyond, I tried to fit in a mold.  And that's what I expected from both myself and my writing.

But I'm not that person.  And at the age of 40 I've grown tired and I'm done.  So I've changed the name of the blog to what I enjoy and my thoughts here will continue to be realistic.  The difference is that my aim is not to be somebody or gain readership, it's simply to give you a look into my life.

If there's one thing I've learned, is that othersmore like me.  Children who were abused growing up, physically and emotionally, and worse.  We grew up in a time where divorce was not quite yet normal, and we struggled to show our identity.  We struggled so hard to be liked by those in power over us, and yet never quite measured up.

The beauty of today's society is that it's tired of fake, it's tired of the same routine.  They are finished with the "Do as I say, not as I do."  And I love it.  Today's world is about being real, and not about following the company line.

Is the change in this blog a sort of New Year's resolution?  Maybe.  Is it permanent?  God, I sure hope so.

The picture at the top of this blog is of my extended family in Chiapas, Mexico.  My wife is from Mexico and she has alot of family from there.  Many of you might have visited Cancun, or Cabos, or Monterrey - this is different.  You see, the parts I'm used to are the poor parts.  Where the air conditioning is natural, with fans move the warm air around.  Water comes to the house in a very small tube, and major construction is often done with dynamite.  Work is hard to come by and you work 60 hours a week for about $30.

According to our country's standards, our family is poor.  Tables are drawn out to the street for ventilation and light, plastic lawn chairs are their form of dinner seating, and kitchen knives are used as can openers.  Indoor plumbing in the kitchen is a luxury, sanitation a fight to maintain, and the power can go at a moment's notice.

If I close my eyes, I can hear the little town's "news" on the car driving by, being shouted through a mounted magaphone.  I see the scrawny dogs in the streets, staring at me with sad eyes because there is no food.  And the stares, while friendly, are always there.  A big white blond guy in the middle of so many Hispanics - it's definitely alot of fun.

And because I've seen this first hand, that's why this picture is so poignant to me.  It's my nephew's birthday.  His mother died a long time ago, and his father abandoned him.  He lives with my inlaws, and is one of the family.  Some may see this picture and see poverty or inconvenience or even feel sorry for them. 

Yet here I see love and support - sharing whatever you have with those who have less, where it is a blanket or a warm meal.  In our part of town no one is lonely on Christmas, because the neighbors ensure that those with nothing enjoy at least one day with someone.  It's amazing - in the poorest of houses, i have seen the richest families.  Rich beyond wealth, because they value their family and their love much more material possession.  I see this picture and I miss them very much . . .



 

Happy New Year

Before embracing a new year, i must stop if but for a second to reflect on this past year.  Facebook has a year in review of all the different things that you posted, friends you added or pictures you took over the last year.  I ran mine, and it, well, seemed a bit empty.

I've decided it worthless to attempt to summarize this past year in a mere collage of "things."  It was so much more than that, and the new year hasn't even started yet.  I find myself absolutely excited to embrace the new year.  So much will happen, I just know it.  But first the review.

This year started out quiet, but with alot of learning and growing.  As some of you may or may not know, i'm in the processing of bringing over my wife's daugthers.  It is a complicated process, and has already taken too much time for the first one then I could have ever anticipated.  The moment you think you're done, there's another form to file, another hole to explain.  Trust me I would have started much earlier had I known.

I've learned you have to constantly follow up with Immigration, even though they do their best, because they are so many immigrants who want to be here.  I've learned so much about the process as a whole and unfortunately I've had to learn so much on the fly . . . .

The summer was simply fantastic.  Went to Ocean City with the family and it was awesome.  So much so we're going back.  Not so much for the scenery but just to be together.  Then late summer came, and we had to move out.  Misunderstandings and alot of unexpected expenses followed, and relationships were strained with the change and the heat.

But then the fall came.  As the leaves and the temperature began to fall, so did the tension.  And the love and the peace that we'd longed for so returned.  And ever since then it has been fantastic. It seemed to go so well . . .

Then once again Death's hand touched my family.  My grandmother, aged 90, went home.  The matriarch of our family, the rock had slipped from our lives quietly.  Yet the hole it left was tremendous.  A constant encourager, and a ready smile she was fantastic.

I can still hear her voice and will so for many years to come.  But I know she's in a better place .  And someday I will see her again soon.



 

If I had to do it over again

So it's a quiet night.  Wife and the little one are out with some friends, and I just back from watching Skyfall.  Babygirl has started to sing and anyone that truly knows me know that my music tastes are completely eclectic. Be interesting where she goes with hers. God knows I'm showing her all kinds.

Once I was able to get out from the dark shadows known as my childhood, I really developed a passion for music. Not a like, nor a love.  It is a passion - a neverending always burning desire that saturates my very being.  You see I just don't hear music, I feel it.  As Nicholas' character said in a Few Good Men, i feel it "down in deep dark places where no one likes to talk about it." 

One of the groups I have come to love is DMB (Dave Matthews Band).  And while their stuff from the 2000's is okay, I've really come to love some of their older stuff.  When they'd just jam.  Funny thing is I remember when they were big, and I couldn't stand them - go figure.  Yeah i'm late getting on that train.  LOL.

Anyway everytime I hear them I can't help think of JID.  He's an old roommate from back in the day, and one i seriously undervalued at the time.  I've hesitated to blog about this.  I was afraid, and still am so, over "over romantizing" (if that's even a word) that time period of my life.  Looking back on it, wow, I' just wish i'd embraced it much more.  But i supposed it's easier to say that once you've find the love of your life.  Back then i was just hoping to get a date, let alone laid.

But i was still finding my way and I regret that i didn't appreciate him more - probably is i was trying to impress him too much rather than being myself.  And as with many friendships, time, responsibility and other factors, well we've lost touch.  And it's too bad - because he was great.  I'm sure if you had asked he'd find someway to say some nice things about me.  But the truth is, I was an ass.  A pompous arrogant ass who had no clue how ignorant i really was. Funny thing is, i thought i was doing the right thing.  Why is it we finally get it right after they're gone?

Today life is much more normal than it was back then.  After some serious counseling, i finally pulled through.  Now I'm married, with a great home.  And i love my life.  Yet i find myself from time to time (such as tonight) reflecting on those days.  Remembering the nights watching DMB's older concerts and wondering what the hell he saw in them.  Or his discussions on Kerouac or modern day Christianity.

You see, JID was just cool.  To me he was one of my true friends.  He saw me at some tough times and at hard as it must have been, encouraged me and always gave me another perspective with a kind word rather than a judgmental glance.  I realized life was a lot bigger than my fears and the biggest regret is that i didn't see it sooner so that i could have enjoyed his friendship more. I learned alot from him.

As she always does, time encourages us to move on.  When the cool rolls in at evening time, I think of those nights in front of the wood stove swapping ideas - trying to see how how i could make the stove :)  An intellectual conversation with him was like eating at the proverbial mental buffet.  Just awesome and refreshing.  Yeah i know, i'm sure that english reference is completely wrong :)

So Jid, wherever you are man - thanks.  I truly am indebted to you.   

Summer Fun

(Editor's Note:  So if you can't tell yet, I haven't really decided what direction to take this blog.  And i guess i'm in no hurry to find out :)  I've been itching to write for some time and well, now, I'm here so let's get a crackin'!)

I know it's August and the last post I made was sometime in the spring.  It's not that I've been intentionally ignoring anyone, simply been very busy.  My wife and I made a decision that we were going to ease back a little and enjoy the summer.  We wanted to take more time off and go places.  And while it hasn't worked out so far like we'd have liked it to, we were able to get away to Ocean City, MD for a while and take in the sites.  And it was worth every penny.

The house is  in the process of being sold and we've since moved out into an apartment (nice one to be sure) on the 3rd floor.  Talking about huffing and puffing on the day of the move out.  95 degree weather almost 100%humidity, I was hurting.  Finally after 3 days (we took our time) everything was there and the old house was cleaned up.  To be honest though, I wasn't prepared for what happened next.

It was the adjustment period.  I mean, I knew it would take some time adjusting but it was hard.  Hard to leave the house where steph was born, where Fernando got his first laptop; the memories, the fights, the moments of Stephanie's firsts - all of it we had to leave.  Leaving a one floor 3 bedroom house to go to a 2nd floor apartment with 2 bedrooms.  I think it was hard for everyone - stress, well there was plenty of that.  Home created as well as work created.

But now, things have calmed down.  We've gotten back into the swing of the things, but it's amazing the difference an apartment complex brings.  Playground equipment, pool - let's just say Steph is spoiled.

Update later.

I love you

I see your picture and it breaks my heart.  Such beauty in a poignant moment - a smile that only parents could love.  And here, on your special day, we are so very far.  The sadness pulls at my heart 3,000 miles away.  Because I love you.

I know we don't necessarily share the same blood.  But it does not nor has it ever mattered.  Because you are my child, my daughter, and I love you.  Not a day goes by that I don't think of you, pray for you, long to be with you.  To show you our world, to worship the Father together, and to bask in His presence. To be together as a family, so you can see your younger sister grow up.  That you may share with us in our joy.  To watch you grow and make friends, and become the woman that God wants you to be.  To see your smile and hear your laughter.  To cook with you just like we did.  And selfishly, so that this pain may go away.

And I know you struggle too.  To understand why God has allowed this.  To push aside the hurt of a family separated, but i implore you to do so.  Such a young woman, forced to be in the position you have been and are right now.  You've done so well, and I'm very proud of you.  And while I can't always explain why these things happen, I want you to know that I ache for you, that I long to be with you and my heart beats for you.

Your mother and I haven't forgotten you - rather with each passing hour and each long minute we wait for you, and pray for you.  Hoping the day comes soon when we can be together.

Why? (quick rant)

Why is that some of my best blog ideas come at times when there's NO way to write about them.  Bouncing around in Chocolate World yesterday with the wife and baby and had a couple of ideas hit me that really inspired me.  I got carried away with them in my mind, imagining what I'd write and what I'd say and then *Poof* they're gone.  What were they about? No clue.  Inspired, oh yes.  Sigh - would love to get around that obstacle . . .

So annoying.  Especially when (like now) I'd love for some of that inspiration to come and hit me right now . . . Grrrr.

Okay I'm done.

Art

I remember the first fime i felt being drawn to art.  I was in my mid 20's, cleaning out the basement of the house where i was renting.  I had moved to the area in 96, and the job which had relocated me found me some "temporary" housing in a basement apartment of a large home.  The landlady was always extremely nice and it was quiet.    In all my life, I'd never known such stability, such quiet and peace. 

She was part of a large Italian family who quite often had get together in her home.  They would always invite me up to eat and I became very fond of her family.  Her husband made the best pasta salad, and as a young broke adult, they always made sure that I got a fair share of the leftovers.  Looking back, I realize those years spent on Queen Anne were far more important than I could have ever known.  I learned about me, both my shortcomings and my strengths.  I realized that having a loving family was a reality and not only a dream.  I discovered the type of man, father and husband I wanted to become.  I remember seeing her family and wanting to have a large family like that.  I wanted to provide a place that was warm and loving, a home where my children and their friends felt welcome, a place where they wanted to be.

She had four sons whom she loved very much.  The basement was littered with memories of times gone by.  Every toy, sweater, carpet stain, or hole in the wall had a story. One day while cleaning the garage, I came across her youngest son's art textbook which had a few paintings by Hopper.  And that's when I fell in love with art.  I can't draw, but there's just something about it which "draws" me.
Time moved on and I moved out, fell in love, married and now have 3 daughters.  About a year ago, I remembered the textbook and searched the web.  The first painting that popped out at me was this one, Automat.  Automats were an early form of independent eatery meets rest stop.  You could go in, buy food from a machine and sit down and eat  There were popular during the early 1900's and according to one author, died to the growth of suburbs and drive thru's during the 50's.

Looking at this, I'm drawn to the silence.  I wonder what she is thinking.  I was single well into my thirties, and had plenty of time to think, to much actually. Wondering if I'd ever meet that special someone, wondering if i was doing it right etc. etc.

Or better yet, maybe she's just simply getting rid of a hangover, and asking herself the question "What the hell did i just do?"

Whew!

Is it me or did the holiday season just fly by?  Didn't say hi or anything, just rushed in and outta here like an uninvited guest.  Done is the cooking, the baking, the wrapping, the christmas cards, the songs, the lights.  And it seems like every year it goes by quicker.

But there's alot of good that came out of it.  The most important thing though, I had very little to do with.

Be Still and Know.

After months, maybe even years of being away, man it sure felt great to come back home and eat.

The plan? Just do it.

The food? The open NLT is what I recommend. Sure goes down smooth and what a great reading.

The result?  Amazing. Absolutely amazing.

Christmas is on the way

Anyone that knows me knows that this time of year is my absolute favorite.  From the first chill in the air, to the smell of burning wood in the outdoors; from the smell of food stuffs in the kitchen to the lights, I love it all.  And on the rare chance that I get to take a break from work I love to go to the malls and check out future purchases.

This year though I've been able to appreciate it through the eyes of a father for the very first time.  Granted Steph was with us last year, but only 6 months old at the time.  I was still stumbling around as a new father, and it went by so quickly.  But this year is definitely different.  I can see more of her personality and her smile. And what a blessing that has been. 

You see, I've always believed that we are created in His image, and furthermore I believe that there are character traits that we have inherited from Him.  For example, when looking at your children, have you ever wondered how much He loves us?  How He must look at us, stare upon our faces the same way we do with our spouses in wonderment and with an everlasting love?

Before I go to work in the morning, I make it a point to go to Steph's crib.  I like to talk to her a few minutes and rub her stomach or caress her face to feel her one last time before I go.   I tell her I love her and I miss her and that I will see her soon. And with a deep breath, I leave - immediately looking forward to my return.

I imagine God is the same way with us.  Granted He has a lot more to look in on than I do, but I believe the feelings are the same, only, well, more perfect.  I imagine He feels for us very much like I do, when i stand by her crib and watch her sleep, the motion of her stomach rising and falling.  I stare at her face and notice the form of her lips, exactly like mine - my daughter.  An immensely strong and powerful loves swells inside of me, unlike I have ever known before.  Here she is my child, made in my image with many of my character traits (both good and bad). It not only brings a smile to my face but a knowing that I have that same relationship with Him that brings both peace and comfort.

Joseph's Lullaby - an excellent song for Christmas by MercyMe.  A song  that would cause me to tear up as I imagined Joseph's love for that child, not of his blood but God made.  And now as a father, I can't even put into words what that song means to me.  So I won't even try . . .  But wow, is it a powerful song . . .