Feliz Cumpleaños Ama

 

    Somehow, in my heart, I knew 79 would be mi Ama's last birthday. Still, I hoped that she would make it to see 80. 

    Today, would have been her 80th birthday. As I prayed the rosary this morning while I walked MJ in the cold, windy morning, I thought about how mi Ama would never have to feel the bitter cold again. How she didn't have to take all those pills, worry about bad news from doctors, worry about Filly and Richy, or feel all the aches and pains in her body. That gave me such solace.

        I have cried some today because I miss her and all of her crazy antics, but I know she's still around. She's the butterfly that comes way too close to MJ. She plays with the candle on the altar that used to belong to her. It has good batteries, but it only lights up when I pray hard for my siblings' health or I have something heavy on my soul. 

        When I cry, I always tell her that I cry because I am so grateful to have had such a wonderful Mom. I will always miss her, but I will always be okay that she is finally at rest. And while she didn't make it past 79, January 22nd will always be a special day in my heart. 

            Feliz cumpleaños Ama! La quiero tanto, tanto, tanto. 

Right: Mom celebrating her 79th after being in a the hospital for a week. 

Left: My little altar with the candle Father Henry gave us after Mass today, a hot chai tea latte with almond milk just like she liked it, and an orchid because they were her favorite. 

Presente Paul Harrington

11th Grade was the year we did clinical rotations at the county hospital as part of our medical magnet program. We went to the hospital twice a week for half of the school day. So our English and History classes were double blocked on two other days of the week, and Fridays, we followed a normal schedule. 

That year was Mr. Harrington's first year. He told us that on our first day. He also told us that he was a recovering drug addict. That last bit of information was something I will never forget. You see, my dad was an alcoholic, but talking about dad being an alcoholic wasn't something we did. People were not supposed to know about Dad's habits. People were not supposed to know the type of man he became when he got drunk. We were supposed to look put together and happy and turn in all of our assignments on time and get good grades. So to have this man tell us that upon first meeting us was a bit of a shock to me. He earned a ton of respect from me. Yeah, I acted like an asshat sometimes, but still, I knew he was the real deal. He was able to beat his addiction, something I saw my dad say he would do and try to do but fail every single time. 

Mr. Harrington, no matter how bad we were, never yelled at us. Instead, he met our teenage stupidity with wit. 

I always tell the story about that one time my classmate, Adrian, asked, "Mr. Harrington, did Jesus give you those boots?" 

And Mr. Harrington, without missing a beat said, "Why, yes, Adrian, yes He did." 

Scrolling through my Facebook feed today, I found out Mr. Harrington passed away. Two friends had shared a post from someone else who had gone to school with us and ended up working with Mr. Harrington since he went on to become a Vice Principal and ultimately, a Principal. He ended his post with a phrase that I had forgotten about but brought back all the feels, "Please open your historical hearts and your historical souls to page..."

Thank you for instilling in me the values of being an informed citizen not only of the current political landscape, but of the past, that voting matters, and that overcoming our past is possible. May your rest is peace, Mr. Harrington. 

Post Valentine's Day

2/13/2016

For Valentine's Day, I took D.S.A. to watch Deadpool. We got into a big fight after the movie. I took my pillow and phone charger and went to sleep in the spare room that night. That was the beginning of the end.

2/14/2018

I was "seeing" some guy I met on eHarmony. He sent me chocolate covered strawberries to work that arrived before Valentine's Day, on a day I wasn't at the office. But, I loved him. I wanted so badly for things to work out between us because he seemed like the type of guy I had always wanted. However, by this point in our "relationship," I had an unsettling feeling about the future. I often woke up in the middle of the night with a knot of anxiety burning in my stomach. I tried to run it away, but it persisted.

Any time I got a text from him, the anxiety kicked up a notch. In the months that followed, it grew worse. My moods swung up and down depending on if I had heard from him. When summer was approaching, I was afraid of being home because I felt like all I would do was obsess about the status of our "relationship."

When my birthday rolled around that year, he forgot. I knew he was going to forget because he hadn't asked me what I was planning to do or anything. Fortunately, my sister-in-law and the kids came to visit, so it was a distraction. And my wonderful friend Jocelyn planned a day of day drinking and fun. When I told him it was my birthday, he tried to make up for it by sending me an e-card, but it was too late. I had been living with that anxiety since the start of the new year, and I was tired. For the rest of my birthday, I ignored his texts. The next day, I broke it off with him.

Hurting, lonely, and sad, I joined the apps again. And not two weeks later, I met, as my best friend calls him, Mr. Noodles. We met on a Sunday, the following Saturday, we met up for ramen, hence the name Mr. Noodles, and we went to see Solo. On the 4th of July, he drove through the rain to make me dinner and watch a Jurassic Park marathon.

When he got here, he backed up his car against the wooden fence which is a big no-no in my complex. His car got towed. Because of past experiences, I felt like it was my fault. I drove him in silence to get his car. He was upset, but he never acted upset towards me just himself. That was a first for me.

2/14/2020

I'm still seeing Mr. Noodles, but we don't spend Valentine's Day together. Last year, it was a work day for both of us. The next day, he came over and brought me a giant blue dog I named Elvis, a big heart with candy, and flowers. This year, we were both too tired. I actually suggested he stay home, and we catch up today. He asked where I wanted to eat for dinner. I replied, "I'm picking up some shrimp to make shrimp scampi for dinner."

The thing is, Mr. Noodles and I don't need Valentine's Day. He brings me flowers just because. When he buys me gifts, they're the things I talk about wanting. He makes me dinner often or makes breakfast so that I'm not slaving away when I get back from a run. If I tell him I don't feel like doing anything, he's okay with that.

Maybe because we've both had difficult relationships in the past, we don't expect a whole lot from one another.

In all the time we've been together, we've never really had a fight. There are things we disagree on, but it's not a big enough deal to get angry at one another. Maybe that's bad, but it doesn't feel like it.

I always know exactly where I stand with him, and that's so nice. He never causes me any anxiety. And, I really appreciated him understanding that I needed some rest yesterday.

1 A.J.

I was sitting in Lindy’s office when the phone call came. Jennifer hardly ever calls me, so I answered right away. Her voice was serious as she said, “Jorge didn’t wake up this morning. When I tried to wake him up, he wasn’t breathing, and his lips were purple. They’re taking him to Las Palmas.” 

So I'm Thinkin' About Forgiveness

Even though Jorge was the baby boy of the family, I always had a sense that there was something off between Dad and Jorge.

I remember when I was about four or five the police was called at two in the morning because in a drunken rage, Dad had taken the mattress Jorge was sleeping on and had flipped it with Jorge still on it.

The Safety Dance

The summer my mom botched her pacemaker battery replacement surgery I stayed in El Paso for six weeks. That's the longest I have ever stayed there since moving away for college in 2002. 

Paying It Forward

There isn't anything specific Jorge did like serving at a soup kitchen every Thanksgiving or donating X amount of money each year, but he was a generous guy. If he ever saw someone in need and he could help, he did. I remember him stopping to pick older people up from the side of the road because he was concerned about them walking for long distances in the desert heat. 

Messing with Mota #1

If you know me, then you know that I love to laugh. If I'm not finding a reason to laugh, then there is something truly wrong with me. The love of laughing, as you might guess, is a result of Jorge's influence on me.