Tap dancing in the grass...

... is the title I always thought I would give a book about my life.

The story:

I had the idea to show my daughter Shirley Temple movies...  Like Curly Top and such.  Of course after the first one she *had* to have tap shoes.  And Clara being who she's always been, threw herself into the deep end of tap dancing practice.  In our living room, in the kitchen, in the bathroom... and when I went outside, of course, she followed.

She had been dancing in the walkway, all the way to our driveway.  But at some point something must have seemed better, softer... so off she went to the grass for quite a while.  As I minded whatever it was I was into that afternoon, Clara continued with her furious practice, kicking her little legs around and quite possibly envisioning herself as Shirley in Curly Top.

It was at the highest point of her new found talent that she called for me:  "Mom!  Look!!  I'm tapdancing in the grass!!"

She was so happy, so elated, and living in her own world of tap dancing superstardom.  Never mind that the whole idea of tapdancing was lost in the cushiony grass, drowning out the beautiful metal taps hitting a solid ground.  She was, by God, dancing her heart out, who was I to burst her bubble?

Bless her sweet, tapdancing little heart.  I love her so much.  It was at that moment I realized how most of my life I've lived tap dancing in the grass.  So many instances, so many situations, so many relationships...  So much hard work and wasted emotion.

Yet somewhere, someone is looking down and seeing that my efforts are pure...  I may not be good, but I have good intentions.

G

New blog name. New much more...

I love Blogger.  I have been wanting to change the whole "No Sex" title, since I have long outgrown who I was when I started and I must admit I never really liked the show itself, only the *idea* of it.  Anyway, I changed it and it was so EASY to do!  Yay Blogger!!

I am watching "The Bible" as I read this... pretty enjoyable, although there's a lot of fighting and killing...  Moses received the tablets with the 10 commandments (Though shall not kill?) and promptly engages in killing a bunch of Egyptians.  At the moment, I'm loving the whole "I offer you my daughter" line...  the way it was filmed/delivered/acted was very borderline comedy.  As if he had looked around and didn't want to part with anything else.  Ok, maybe just to me, and I have had a very giddy sort of day, but still...

And before that, one of the most tragically agonizing stories for any parent, had me glued to the screen to see how Abraham's sacrifice of his son would play out.  After it was all done, father and son headed back down the mount and all I can think of was Isaac saying "I'm never going anywhere with you again, dad!  That was so not funny!!"  Yeah... maybe I need to quit getting inspiration from Mystery Science Theater 3000.  Or maybe I should watch this all over again when I'm in a more somber mood.
Or maybe, I will leave it to my own imagination and not rely on the Hollywood version...

Anyway, Clara is in Indy.  When she gets back she's going to Vegas.  Bala is away for the weekend at a birthday party on some mountain getaway... I hope he is having fun.  I know Clara is.

That's all.  Life is still good, with its ups and downs.

Will write again soon.

PS:  David's crown from Saul is a bit disappointing...

My son. (from 1/11/09)

I'm watching my 9-year old son naked with a large towel around his head, trying to twirl it around and as high as possible. It's so ridiculously funny, I can't stop laughing. He is so skinny, and his bony limbs are totally un-synchronized, I think he might just hit his head on the sink and knock himself out. Yet he keeps calling out to me to watch and see just how high the stupid towel will go. He barely gets it to swing from right to left and then makes this grunting sound and circles his head in a big sweep. Nothing. The towel barely moves. He's now trying it again... same result.

I wish I could take a photo of him to upload, but I'm not sure it would be entirely appropriate. Is there some kind of limit for that?

He's now gone to his room right outside the bathroom door, in search for underwear via the kitchen at the opposite end of the house. Meanwhile, our t-cup Yorkie snuck into the bathroom and left with a dirty sock in her mouth. She proudly pranced somewhere, and I'm sure on the way she'll run into the naked boy in search for underwear. Wait, I just heard him say "YES!"...

As usual, I found him, but before I saw his nakedness, he figured out how to get his underwear on by going around the other side of the house. Unfortunately for my seriousness, he had them pulled up to his chest, always a funny visual. "Mommy, I'm on the second level!" Not sure of what, but I'm excited for him. I then asked him to get dressed (I'm thinking jammies, it's now 9pm) and off he goes. He comes back wearing his suit pants, no shirt. While smiling at me, he pulls the zipper up and I say "Baby, jammy pants, it's bedtime!". Smile turned to surprise, "Oh!" and he ran to the bedroom.

Now, I know when I get there, he'll still be in his suit pants. And I'll have to get stern and go through the usual "why don't you do what I ask?" routine, when all I want is to kiss his cheeks and eat him alive for being so fucking cute. Sigh... they kill me.

Crossroads

Ever since that day I've had a difficult time feeling "happy" but the only thing that really moves me is anything to do with my love for Him or my reverence for his Holy Mother...  It's the only stuff that reaches my heart!  Everything else has lost its luster...  It feels like I should just live in church as I have an almost disdain for the things of this world, knowing that no matter how much I have or how much I get it's never enough... So I'd rather go the other way.  And I don't know what to do with this...  How do I help my children be part of a society I don't have respect for and I don't believe in as a functional way to reach our highest potential as human beings??  I guess I'm just having a hard time and I need some guidance...

About my father...

My memory might fail me, but I think it had been a year or more since my dad had died. I was on the bus, riding from Callao y Santa Fe towards where we used to live, Congreso. Behind me sat two older gentlemen engrossed in the kind of conversation that older people have: about things past, how they were and how much everything has changed.

At some point, one of them asked his friend if he remembered Dr. Neumayer, the physician who had established a swimming record back in I don't remember what year. My heart filled with pride, as I tried my hardest to hear what these men had to say... and it seemed to be nothing but praise.

What sticks most in my mind is that it was a moment in time when it was confirmed in my head that my dad had indeed been a "great one". And, for some reason, it is the voice of strangers that provides you with the most conviction when your memory is clouded by what life had been like at home. Personal failings aside, he had earned the respect of many, and although they never saw him crying and screaming for my mother on the floor of our living room, in their eyes he was a greater man than many others.

I don't have any particular feelings about this at the moment, as a matter of fact I feel a bit numb. I have had my moments when I held him up in a pedestal, and my moments when I wanted to change my name, so as not to carry his with me. I now don't know what I feel. Loving with all abandon can leave you open for disappointment, loving above all failings can make you feel foolish, and loving with restraint can make it feel less real. God knows I want to love him, but I just don't know how.

G

Love, its shapes and sizes

I heard a voice today on the other end of the phone that I never thought I would hear again. It was Alejandrina, one of my childhood friends.

Ale and I were close when we were little. I had other "BFFs" but I remember spending the night at her house on many occasions, and yes, I loved hanging out with her and playing but another very important reason for me to want to stay the night at her home was her mother.

If there was ever a woman who taught me how to show love to a child it was Ale's mom. She would shower me with hugs, kisses goodnight, and always told me how much she loved me as if I were her own. She would even tell me that she could easily adopt me as her own without any hesitance. She made me feel so incredibly special and would even call my mom to sing my praises, telling her how amazing I was and how much she loved me. She was really like a second mother to me.

I think around the 3rd grade (although Ale said it was much later, like in the 6th grade), Ale's mom was going on a road trip with her boyfriend, whom Ale hated. Ale begged her not to go because she was afraid she was going to die. Her mom told her to stop being silly, that nothing would happen and asked why she felt that way, since she had been on many trips and it was never a problem. I remember all this so clearly, as I was there when they had that talk and I remember my friend being angry at her mom for leaving. The next day (or maybe a couple of days later) I went to school as usual, and many (if not all) of the girls in my class were crying. I asked Oshi why she was crying, which surprised me as Oshi was Japanese and hardly ever showed emotion, she was always very composed and in control. She then told me that Ale's mom had been in a car accident and had died.

I started giggling, and then outright laughing, saying "no she didn't!". My brain kept telling me "STOP LAUGHING YOU IDIOT, she died and everyone's crying! You should be upset!", but for some reason the laughing wouldn't stop. It was the strangest reaction but one I could not help. I suppose that's what happens when you go into some sort of shock, but I was ashamed and embarrassed and couldn't talk about the whys of my reaction. I don't remember clearly what happened next, but I do remember that Alejandrina's dad pulled her out of our school and took her away to a different town. We never heard from her again.

Through the years, I thought about Ale, her mom, and her brother and felt really sad for her. She didn't like her father at all and was very miserable with him. I looked for her every so often on the Internet, on MySpace, on any kind of people search, anywhere I could think of.

Then, a few days ago she friend requested me on Facebook. To hear her voice again sent me to immediate tears. I cannot explain the feeling, as I know no name for it. Almost like a mixture of nostalgia, peace, love, bittersweetness, longing and happiness, but even all that doesn't cover it. We spoke for a really long time and she told me of what she had to endure at the hands of her abusive father. How she wasn't allowed to answer the phone an he had gotten rid of all the phonebooks she had. She wasn't even allowed to see her mother's family. Although she eventually left her dad's, was married and had four kids, she also lost a baby girl of 2 years old, her mother's namesake, who also died in a car accident on the same day as her mother... some day in November, I think about ten years ago...

Ale is now a very strong woman, and talking to her gave me tremendous amounts of peace. I so wanted to hug her, to get on a plane right away so I could see her, as so much of how she looks now reminds me of her mom, sans the reading glasses that were always on her face.

In the best way I knew how, I told her that her mother made a huge impact on my life. That every time I show any child that I love them, I go about it the same way her mother did. And I hope that, just like her mom, I make them feel incredibly special and that love is and should be unconditional. Her mother was the brightest star.

Celina, for the short time I knew you, you gave me a gift that I could never repay you while you were alive. But know that in my memory and in my heart you will live forever, with those glasses on your nose and a smile that's never ending. I love you still, so very much. And the love I have for you is now for Ale. I hope I won't lose touch with her again, as I'm not sure such a loss repeated is something my heart could bear.

Keep an eye on us, and shower us with your love from Heaven.

All my love,

Gabriela

Changes...

I've thought to change the name of this blog so many times, but... I'm still in a city and, well...

The name stays.

I now live with my 2 children, 4 dogs, 6 chickens, 1 rabbit, 1 rat, 1 mouse and 1 frog. No, never mind, the frog moved out yesterday or the day before, I don't remember, but his name is now Steve. Oh, and of course John lives here too.

But John has been gone a long time. He went to London for a tune-up. He keeps saying he'll be back in a week and the weeks keep passing by and no John. I'm actually very happy here with just the kids, but we do miss John. Benny misses him most of all, I think. I hope he's doing well (as he says) and he'll be able to get back to the US with no problems.

Life has been so rich lately, all thanks to Facebook. I have re-connected with people I never thought I'd see again. Alejandrina Solá Y Paz... Wow... I've been dying to hear about her for so long I don't even remember. Her and Ursula Welsz, but I've only found Ale, and just today she accepted my friend request. I hope I can talk to her tomorrow. After all, it was her mother who gave me so much love when I was little, and then she died in a car accident. I remember when Viviana Oshi(?) told me about the accident and I started laughing. I was in such shock, I kept saying "No she didn't die!" and laughing nervously. My brain kept telling me to stop laughing, that it wasn't funny, but my reaction was the opposite. Ale's mom was an amazing woman, and when I saw photos of Ale on Facebook today, I saw her mom in her face. All that was missing was the reading glasses...

I really can't wait to talk to her. I wonder if she has any photos of her mom to share. I need to tell her how the love her mom showed me is the exact same I try to show other children today. That when I want to make a child feel welcome, accepted and loved I think of and channel Ale's mother. I wonder why she loved me so much, as she would tell my mom...

Oh, my gosh!! I also saw Sister Rose on Facebook, who was the very scary nun at St. Dominic's ("Chica!") with the big blue eyes and big boobs... I was soooo scared of her! Anyway, not sure she's still a nun as there is a photo of her in a bathing suit and no signs of a habit... She sent me a message in reply to mine that she remembers me and my mother well. Of course, my mom lived at St. Dominic's when she left my dad and the nuns and priests were her roommates... She always said she had a great time while she lived there. I called my mom and asked her about it after I got the reply from Sr. Rose (Dymphna Tipper now) and she didn't even remember ever having lived there...

Her brain is definitely going. I wonder if she'll get to where she doesn't remember me either.

Time to click "Publish Post". Goodnight.