Love

"I stare at my right arm. It bares your name. What a beautiful piece of art. It's my favorite tattoo. Tomorrow is Christmas' Eve. Merry Christmas, Love. That is your heavenly name, Love. That's what they called you in Heaven. You don't remember, you can't. I know because of my dreams. You were the most astonishingly beautiful angel that would dwell in the Garden.

When the dispute occurred, you stayed true to God. Satan was cast out along with his jinns. Humans were undecided. I was human and I remember you. I had seen you laying by the river east of Eden. The light you gave was spectacular. I sinned that day.

I saw you in all your splendor enter the water. I watched you bathe. I continued to watch as you ascended from the water, your light enough to blind humans, but I couldn't look away. You don't remember? It was forbidden for Angels and flesh to become one, but I had made my sinful mind up. I had to have you.

That day I saw your light. Love's light shone on my flesh with all its glory, your light. I know you can't remember. It's ok. I approached you that day, but your light burned too bright. You tried to warn me, but still I approached. I fell into a sleep and when I awoke you had taken me into your light. We danced that day and I realized why God called you Love. Then, after you had sat me back by the water, you were gone.

I ran through the Garden searching for you. Then the ground shook with God's wrath against Satan. The dispute began.

Every human was put in a deep sleep. We were reborn here on Earth and given the test to seek God or Satan. Human souls were with a jinn, one of Satan's Angels that chose him the day of the dispute. That's why I battle with Good and Evil. My whole life I have been seeking your light... Love's light.

That's your real name, you don't remember? I have found you here on Earth. Here, I am able to be one with you. Please take me into your light again. Keep me warm, Love.

Dedicated to the Angel called Love.
She is the light."

PMS - A great thing

Today I was feeling incredibly emotional. I now know that the feelings were aided by the fact that in a week I will... you know. I used to PMS a day or two before the event, but now it seems to come a week prior, which seems so strange. I personally think it's because my body already knows I ovulated and a pregnancy didn't take place, so it's sad.

Regardless, PMS time for me lately seems to give me new perspective on a lot of things. For example, today I felt the sadness I felt so many times before over my relationship with the man I was married to (now for) 14 years. Although we've been separated for a year, the farther we are the better the view gets from the outside. The things I once internalized and depressed me are coming out, and I'm able to see them more subjectively. What insight! one may think, but all it did today was make me cry.

I cried over the sadness I used to feel. Over the loneliness I felt when he traveled and how it only seemed to augment when he returned and didn't have time for me. Or us. That, compiled with the numerous times he was unfaithful, made me feel that the whole thing was unfair and no matter how much I tried, it was never going to be what I wanted it to be.

So I sat at Mass, next to Norma, envisioning how so many times I thought that by now I would be sitting with my husband and my children, all grateful to God for our many blessings. Instead, he will probably never attend church again, and my kids will not get that family unity in faith feeling I was hoping they would grow to know.

Sigh... So what. During the sermon, whatever the priest said made me realize that the effort has to be mine. I am the captain of my children's ship until they venture out on their own, and if there is anything that they do not get now can only be my responsibility. Damn right.

All I ask for now is the strength and guidance to give my children the hope I found in my beliefs, my faith and in Christ. And his Mother Mary. And the forgiveness for the many times I continue to mess that up.

I hope no one reads this...

Unbelievable

I just realized that it's been 5 years since I started this blog. And granted, I've not written it diligently for the entire five years, but it has been fun going back in time and reading the massive amount of crap I've managed to pull out of my... head.

Life is so different now. I suddenly grew up. I feel like "yes I am solidly standing on my own ship", but unfortunately I don't know where it's heading, or how to sail it.

to be continued...

My One True Love

I swear, if a man ever dedicates the song "Oh, Babe, What Would You Say?" to me I will know at that very moment that before my eyes stands my one true love.

Corniest song I ever heard, but a song I adore nevertheless.  And I'm changing my name to Sweet Lollipop.

Have I a hope for half a chance

To even ask if I could dance with you, you oo

Would you greet me or politely turn away

Would there suddenly be sunshine on a cold and rainy day

Oh, Babe,

What would you say?

For there are you sweet lollipop

Here am I with such a lot to say, hey hey

Just to walk with you along the Milky Way

To caress you through the night time

Bring you flowers everyday

Oh Babe,

What would you say?

Just so, Baby I know,

I know I could be so in love with you

And I know that I could make you love me too

And if I could only hear you say you do, oo oo oo oo

But anyway,

What would you say?

Just so, Baby I know

I know I could be so in love with you

And I know that I could make you love me too

And if I could only hear you say you do, oo oo oo oo

But anyway

What would you say?

Thirty Years Ain't Nothin'

When my father died I was twelve years old. Unfortunately I never had true confirmation of his passing as I never got to see him with my own two eyes once he died. I was shipped off to a friend's house for about 4 days, not to be seen nor heard by anyone. This was definitely not for my own good, as by then I had already seen a friend's mom's cadaver (cancer), my grandmother's (old), my grandfather's (lonely without my grandmother) and most likely a couple of others I don't even remember. My sisters, my brother, my mom, his girlfriend... I'm sure even our dog got to see him, but not me. I didn't get to go to the funeral, I didn't get to say goodbye, I didn't rummage through his things to keep one or two of his shirts like my siblings did (they would wear them as pajamas). One of my sisters noticed my empty hands and gave me one of the shirts she had absconded to proudly have as my own. Then I, like the others, could pretend to be sleeping near dad, smelling his scent still on his clothing, knowing we'd never see him again.

At times throughout my life I would dream about him, still alive, a little older. The first time he was crossing our old street, coming at me. The second time he was on some steps. Another time, he had a full head of totally white hair and I believe he even wore a white suit.

But somewhere along my rocky road the dreams began to change. Yes he was still around, but the dreams no longer seemed like dreams, not while I was dreaming them. Does that make sense?

I would be somewhere with my mostly insane family (the insane part is my reality) and they were all clearly hiding something from me. One way or another I heard that my dad was still alive and had been in hiding for the past 30 years. Everyone knew this but me. I would try and try to get more information as to his whereabouts, mostly out of fear that he would die before I got to see him again.

Ever since, every single one of my dreams about him are the same. I finally get to see him, but he has to leave, or I'm about to get his address and I can't, or don't get to really see him. He told me in my dream that he went into hiding to not hurt me anymore (he was a depressed alcoholic). And, as I said, everyone knew about this but me. The whole thing is SO unbelievably real, so convincing, so emotionally correct.

I wake up from this dream with a feeling so strong I can only describe it as a desperate longing for my father. It's not just missing him, it's this strange, strong longing that I can't recall ever truly feeling for someone before, and it goes on for days.

My sister tried to help me with all of this yesterday, and although she suggested meditation and different ways to "connect" with him, it's just not good enough. I need him here, damnit. It's a wound that never heals, like an ulcer in the walls of your heart. Sometimes it flares up more than others, but if you think about it you realize it's always there... and there's always that pain.

So most days you don't think about it, until you dream...

G

Pure Love

Our 8-year-old son has a girlfriend.  Last year she was the "new girl" in his class and within weeks she was "his girl".

Once I figured out which one she was, I noticed that she always played with the boys, yet she didn't strike me as a tomboy even a rough girl, at that.  Eventually I saw that she was extremely shy (at least with me) and not very talkative.  But she was so bloody cute, I agreed with our son that he had very good taste.

Fortunately for me, I made friends with the school's janitor and his wife, and last year Miguel told me that Estela had pointed out to him how Bala and some girl were walking into the Hall with their arms around each other, but right before walking through the door, they put their arms down and held hands all the way in.  I never did get to witness any of this first hand.  Everytime I tried to talk to her, she would shy away.  And if I was there, she seemed to even turn away from him, avoid him.  So of course, I thought that maybe he was more into the whole "boyfriend/girfriend" thing than she was and a sad feeling for my sweet boy came over me.

This summer he didn't see her at all.  Although I told him we'd try to get a playdate it just didn't happen.  I called her mom to try to schedule something at some point and she said that her daughter had been asking to play with our son as well.  She missed him?  How sweet! 

First day of school.  Most parents chose to attend the welcoming meeting right after school started, leaving most of us parents just hanging out for the 15 minutes in between the meeting and our children's arrival in their new classrooms.  As always, all the kids lined up outside, single file, by grade order.  That's when I noticed the sweetest two walking towards the lineup.  She was ever-so-slightly walking behind him and three different times she raised her arm as if to put it around him but put it back down.  She was so tentative, so hesitant, yet one could sense her happiness.  From that moment on, I decided to watch more closely.  They started talking.  He turned back around to face her and they really, truly became engaged in conversation.  One would say something, the other would respond, giggle, reply back and so on.  This went on for a while, and it was so incredibly sweet, so innocent, so loving.

I realized at that moment how precious and rare their friendship is.  These two really appreciate, enjoy, and genuinely like one another.  I even found myself hoping for them to become one of those couples who end up getting married even if they did know each other as small children.  I know it's an odd thing for a parent to hope for, but the answer to my reasoning came to me later that night.

I fell in love for the first time when I was 13.  I knew from the moment I saw him that he was the one.  Outside of a couple of dances where we danced all night long and only with each other, nothing happened.  We didn't even talk, we didn't need to (that's my fantasy).  We always stayed in touch (even now), and there was the one time long ago when we went on a date and kissed, but nothing more.  He is now (like me) married with kids and I see how we would have been perfect together, had destiny not brought me to the U.S., been immersed into a new culture, adopted a new city, and changed in enough ways so as to have prevented me from ever going back to Argentina, where I knew he would always stay.

So I hope and pray that our children (yours, mine, everyone's) are able to keep the basics untouched.  The emotions that kids feel are so basic, they are undoubtedly true.  At some point, however, someone will try convince them of what they themselves think is best, and will inevitably point out differences, the pressure to belong, be accepted, and do what most people do: give into what society dictates. 

I promised myself to never try to guide my kids away from what they feel.  I will never steer them away from the truth of what their basic feelings tell them.  If they decide to limit themselves to one thing, I hope I will know better than to tell them to open themselves to new experiences, to know everything that's out there, to move away to college, to see the world.  Maybe (just maybe) not everyone needs that.  Maybe (just maybe) happiness is handed to us early on and we don't see it, always believing we must aspire to bigger and greater, to consider the package rather that only what's on the inside.

I know my son and his girlfriend will go through changes.  As they grow, he might not be one of the jocks or studs, and she might gain weight.  They might struggle with acne, or developing late.  Who knows?

But how will I teach them to always keep their focus on the inside?  How do I  prevent them from getting away from who they are, from going in that humongous circle that will only take them back to the beginning, back to what's basic, back to who they are and where they belong.  Unfortunately, the path that circle takes is so long and ruins so many quality years of our lives...

Shit, I just want them to be happy. 

So to Stefan and Charlotte (raising my glass):  "True Love Forever"

For now.

OH LORD does this hurt

Yesterday I took our 9 year old to her first sleep-away camp.  It's for a very long week and it's killing me.  Fortunately I still have her brother with me, but the poor thing has had to put up with a lot of extra lovin' from her ever-so-needy mama.  UGH.  I am trying, but it's so hard to pretend to be strong without them.  My son read it right away and told me I was sad because her sister wasn't around.  Thank God for apples that don't fall far from the trees, as this sweet little boy doesn't quite want to go anywhere for more than a couple of days, and if he could take me or his dad with him, even better.

Some funny bits:  As we were driving up to the camp (which was waaaay further than I had previously thought) my daughter said some very funny things.  One of them being that she was actually happy to "have freedom from electronics" for a week.  As if!  She's so goofy.  The other one escapes me now, but she just sounded so grown up and funny.  And it's in her delivery, you just had to be there.

Well, that's it.  Misery and Gloom. 

Oh, wait, my son just scored over 300,000 points on some new game on the DS.

Gotta go.

Writing again

I have now taken what is officially the LONGEST break from this journal I have even taken from anything.  Actually I'm just being dramatic, I stayed away from church a lot longer...

Man, there is so incredibly much to write about, I don't think I'll do it.  Maybe I'll just start small and go from there.  Like my daughter right now, for example, singing to High School Torture Musical on the Wii.  I assume this will continue until her grade gets higher than a "C", which she keeps failing at because she's too late with the lyrics.  In trying to be gentle, I told her a few times "I hear an echo", but she just ignores me and continues to torture us.  The dogs, now not as happy to be indoors as they thought they would be, have ceased all play and I kid you not are trying to cover their heads with their paws as they feign sleep.    

Speaking of dogs...  Malachi had to be put to sleep last August 1st.  A month shy of his birthday, but no fear, I've managed to replenish the brood and we're up to 4 dogs again.  Carmela, Benny, BamBam and Malachi Again (a teacup poodle, a long haired Dachshund mix, an Italian Greyhound and a German Shepherd).  Oh and Cleo the bunny, whose moods are so unstable and frightening (she kicks like Bruce Lee and bites like Mike Tyson) she must PMS weekly.  But when she does fall asleep in your arms she's the sweetest puffball you'll ever see.

Oh, goodness me... soooo much to say!  Gotta take a break though.  

Back later.