It's Father's day and I don't know who should I congratulate on this day. I wasn't blessed with a great father. Should I called him because of protocol? As this day goes by it is a reminder of all the beautiful things I didn't experience. I can't say that I missed anything because, how can I miss what I never had?
I know that as I was growing up something was different. I never saw my father in any school activity, or my sixth grade graduation when I received my high honors medal. He wasn't there for any teacher - parent conference, or when I was sick, or when a boy broke my heart for the first time. My father wasn't there to walk me down the aisle when I married. I don't even think he remembers the day I was born, because he has never said happy birthday. He was physically in my life but absent in all other possible ways.
So, who do I congratulate on this special day? The answer is easy, I will congratulate my mother who has always been there for me since I remember. She took the role of father and mother and did it gracefully. I will congratulate my grandfather Joaquin, who was always there for me and went to heaven too soon. I always wished he was my dad. I will congratulate my brothers who protect me and love without limits, and who chose a different approach to parenthood. Also my grandmother Emilia who always believed in me even when I messed up.
I had a great family who always made me feel like I had it all, and as an adult I realized that I did...I had and have it all.
Not everything was bad about my dad, he taught me a great lesson. From him I learned the type of a parent that I shouldn't be. I want to make my children a priority in my life. I don't want to be average, I want to be great. They will never have to feel alone, because I will always be with them. I feel sad for my dad because he missed out in so many things that will never come back, because there isn't a second chance. I am not angry or bitter, I had forgiven him a long time ago.
I want to wish a Happy Father's Day to my mother and to my brothers who are the kind of father that every kid will want to have.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
A Remarkable Woman
At the end of the year 2001 I met a woman that forever changed my life. She was my biggest support during my son's pregnancy when things were not going well. She was there through my separation from my husband and my divorce. I never felt alone, and I always knew she was near. She is much older than me but when we are together the age gap dissipates and we are just two woman. Sometimes she says I am like her daughter, but I have never seen her as such. She is more like a big sister, a wonderful one. We misbehaved together, we guard each other's secret, we push each other to do better, we have each other's back, no matter what. She is one of those woman that you could say was born in a sunny day, because she's always in a great mood. Her personality is always bigger than the space she is in. She hates to be ignored, and I wonder, who can ignore her vibrant personality? We have been together in good times, great times, sad times and very low points of each other's lives. Our relationship is strong. It is one of those relationships in which you are allowed to be who we are. We don't have to pretend, we are free.
She is always been an open bragging book for her two children- a boy and a girl. I love to hear her stories, because I learned from them and above all because she is a great story teller. She has always been there for her kids- when she was proud and when she wasn't. Her love for them is unconditional.
Recently I saw my friend in the saddest mood I have ever seen her. She was at her lowest point. Her pain was unimaginable for me. She was experiencing the biggest pain a woman could ever experience. My friend lost her boy. That young man that made her eyes twinkle, and her heart skip a beat, the one who made the best sandwiches, the one that made her laugh, the one that gave her her first grand kids, the one that shook her world, and kept her on her toes.
At the funeral she spoke about him, and that was such a healing moment. It was powerful to hear a mother talking about her son in such a profound way. He looked as peaceful as he always was, like he was in a deep sleep. I wish I could have awaken him, and give my friend one more day with her loving son. I wish he had the chance to say "I love you ma'" like he always did. I was there, near her all the way until the final good bye. She needed me, and I needed her her. We cried together, we reminisced. I needed to know that she was going to be OK.
I have to say that I was horrified at people's curiosity and how insensitive some of the comments and questions were- "was it a suicide?", how did he died?, "was it a drug overdose?". I never had to ask her, because I don't need to know that. Her pain isn't based on the cause of death. What I know is that my friend is in pain and if she wants me to know she will tell me, but she knows she doesn't have to. Seeing her in so much pain brought me back to a book that I read about grieving, and the specific quote said, "My sorrow is so wide/ I cannot see across it;/ And so deep I shall never/ Reach the bottom of it". I know that she will agree with that poem from Rexroth.
Her son was never alone, and she will never be...because she has me. From my friend I learned how to be a better mother, a better woman, a better professional, a better friend and just a better person.
I know that she will be OK, because she is such a strong force and because of all the people that loves her. We are in this difficult journey together.
She is always been an open bragging book for her two children- a boy and a girl. I love to hear her stories, because I learned from them and above all because she is a great story teller. She has always been there for her kids- when she was proud and when she wasn't. Her love for them is unconditional.
Recently I saw my friend in the saddest mood I have ever seen her. She was at her lowest point. Her pain was unimaginable for me. She was experiencing the biggest pain a woman could ever experience. My friend lost her boy. That young man that made her eyes twinkle, and her heart skip a beat, the one who made the best sandwiches, the one that made her laugh, the one that gave her her first grand kids, the one that shook her world, and kept her on her toes.
At the funeral she spoke about him, and that was such a healing moment. It was powerful to hear a mother talking about her son in such a profound way. He looked as peaceful as he always was, like he was in a deep sleep. I wish I could have awaken him, and give my friend one more day with her loving son. I wish he had the chance to say "I love you ma'" like he always did. I was there, near her all the way until the final good bye. She needed me, and I needed her her. We cried together, we reminisced. I needed to know that she was going to be OK.
I have to say that I was horrified at people's curiosity and how insensitive some of the comments and questions were- "was it a suicide?", how did he died?, "was it a drug overdose?". I never had to ask her, because I don't need to know that. Her pain isn't based on the cause of death. What I know is that my friend is in pain and if she wants me to know she will tell me, but she knows she doesn't have to. Seeing her in so much pain brought me back to a book that I read about grieving, and the specific quote said, "My sorrow is so wide/ I cannot see across it;/ And so deep I shall never/ Reach the bottom of it". I know that she will agree with that poem from Rexroth.
Her son was never alone, and she will never be...because she has me. From my friend I learned how to be a better mother, a better woman, a better professional, a better friend and just a better person.
I know that she will be OK, because she is such a strong force and because of all the people that loves her. We are in this difficult journey together.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Deja vu
So you could understand my story I have to tell you that I have been married twice, and have one daughter from my first marriage and three children from my second.
When my sixteen year old daughter was about five we had a discussion about her older sister visiting her father in Puerto Rico for summer vacation. When she heard that, her cute little face changed. She had the look of horror. That innocent comment created great commotion and confusion. She couldn't understand the concept that I was previously married, and that her older sister and her had a different biological father. She continued to process that information for days. She wanted to feel connected to her sister and she assumed my ex-husband was her father also. One morning she told her father, "dad, I am going to Puerto Rico with my real family". Her father's face was priceless. the mess in head grew bigger when she in her little head she thought that my first husband's children were mine and that I had abandoned them, so she needed to reunite. What a mess she had created in her head, or did I create the mess when I re-married and had more children? It's a matter of perspective. She finally understood and now we could laugh about it.
I thought that was all over but a few days ago my son - now 8- overheard my oldest daughter talking about a trip to Puerto Rico to visit her father. My son made a comment about his father, and they told him the truth..."you and I don't have the same dad". He's been in a state of shock since, and still can't believe that is real, he thinks someone is playing a bad joke on him. He still processing the information given. I am wondering what is going on inside his head. He probably thinks I abandoned some kids in Puerto Rico. Or maybe he will tell me that he will move away with his real family. I don't know why we as adults make life so complicated to cause children to go through such stressful moments.
It's interesting to see how both kids had the same reaction eleven years apart. After he recovers from the shock of the news we'll laugh about it, as of now he still working on it. I am happy that I am not having any more kids because I don't want to go through this once more.
When my sixteen year old daughter was about five we had a discussion about her older sister visiting her father in Puerto Rico for summer vacation. When she heard that, her cute little face changed. She had the look of horror. That innocent comment created great commotion and confusion. She couldn't understand the concept that I was previously married, and that her older sister and her had a different biological father. She continued to process that information for days. She wanted to feel connected to her sister and she assumed my ex-husband was her father also. One morning she told her father, "dad, I am going to Puerto Rico with my real family". Her father's face was priceless. the mess in head grew bigger when she in her little head she thought that my first husband's children were mine and that I had abandoned them, so she needed to reunite. What a mess she had created in her head, or did I create the mess when I re-married and had more children? It's a matter of perspective. She finally understood and now we could laugh about it.
I thought that was all over but a few days ago my son - now 8- overheard my oldest daughter talking about a trip to Puerto Rico to visit her father. My son made a comment about his father, and they told him the truth..."you and I don't have the same dad". He's been in a state of shock since, and still can't believe that is real, he thinks someone is playing a bad joke on him. He still processing the information given. I am wondering what is going on inside his head. He probably thinks I abandoned some kids in Puerto Rico. Or maybe he will tell me that he will move away with his real family. I don't know why we as adults make life so complicated to cause children to go through such stressful moments.
It's interesting to see how both kids had the same reaction eleven years apart. After he recovers from the shock of the news we'll laugh about it, as of now he still working on it. I am happy that I am not having any more kids because I don't want to go through this once more.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
A Proud Moment
It's mothers day and I am not thinking of myself, but about my kids. It is because of them I have this label of Mother, that I carry with pride.
Since I have children I had many proud moments, and I recently enjoyed another one. On May 6 I went to the Senior Art Show at Emmanuel College and was impressed with my daughter's thesis which was on display. Her work reflected the intense process she went through. It was impressive!
She had made a book titled "Letters from No One". On the wall there there was a quote to describe her project and it said: "People spend a lifetime searching for happiness; looking for peace. They chase idle dreams, addictions, religions, even other people hoping to fill the emptiness that plagues them. The irony is that the only place they ever needed to search is within." Ramona L. Anderson
The book contained 15 anonymous letters that described difficult relationships and portrayed different degrees of abuse and trauma. Then she had 15 pictures to represent those letters. The depth of the letters was unbelievable and they were a great example of human resiliency. The pictures were even more powerful.
I then realized that my daughter has grown up so much since that day that I helped her move into the dorm at her college. There was the realization of this fantastic transformation, a complete metamorphosis. She isn't a girl anymore, she is a wonderful woman. There is so much of me in her, and so much of her in me.
I am so proud of my daughter Stephanie, because she is able to be herself, to realize her dreams, to make her own choices, to create a life that she is happy with, to use my teachings and adapt them to her own needs, she is above the influence. Now she will be graduating in May 14 and I will be there to celebrate that milestone, and to show her that she makes me a very proud mother.
To my beautiful Stephanie I need to apologize because her being my first born, she thaugt me as she grew and I made so many mistakes that still bring tears to my eyes. I made all the possible mistakes and more with her. I wish I had her witty when I was her age. She is such a great example to her sibblings, and myself, and I love that she is my daughter.
Since I have children I had many proud moments, and I recently enjoyed another one. On May 6 I went to the Senior Art Show at Emmanuel College and was impressed with my daughter's thesis which was on display. Her work reflected the intense process she went through. It was impressive!
She had made a book titled "Letters from No One". On the wall there there was a quote to describe her project and it said: "People spend a lifetime searching for happiness; looking for peace. They chase idle dreams, addictions, religions, even other people hoping to fill the emptiness that plagues them. The irony is that the only place they ever needed to search is within." Ramona L. Anderson
The book contained 15 anonymous letters that described difficult relationships and portrayed different degrees of abuse and trauma. Then she had 15 pictures to represent those letters. The depth of the letters was unbelievable and they were a great example of human resiliency. The pictures were even more powerful.
I then realized that my daughter has grown up so much since that day that I helped her move into the dorm at her college. There was the realization of this fantastic transformation, a complete metamorphosis. She isn't a girl anymore, she is a wonderful woman. There is so much of me in her, and so much of her in me.
I am so proud of my daughter Stephanie, because she is able to be herself, to realize her dreams, to make her own choices, to create a life that she is happy with, to use my teachings and adapt them to her own needs, she is above the influence. Now she will be graduating in May 14 and I will be there to celebrate that milestone, and to show her that she makes me a very proud mother.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Evolution
I was recently honored with an invitation by Professor King to be part of a panel of experts to speak at U- Mass Lowell. The theme of the night was Culture Care. The big event was last night.
It was my first time speaking in front of such a big crowd. There were over 150 people in attendance. Also in attendance were my clinical, my research, and my doctorate advisors. It was the first time I spoke in front of my professors in my professional role. I was the expert, not the novice. They were going to be learning from me.
As we enjoy the events of the night, and before I spoke I went back in time to when I started nursing school. I had big dreams. I was a shy, kind of nerdy young woman who was terrified of public speaking. I remembered the moment in which I chose to be a psychiatric nurse. That decision came after I met a patient that changed my life. She was my assigned case in the psychiatric hospital in where I did my rotation. She never knew how much she had impacted my professional destiny. Her body was frail, but her message to me was as powerful as they come. I remembered that professor that forced me to have sleepless nights studying, and the one that recommended me to be a professor in the area of mental health. Memories of my master's program followed and I remembered one of my advisors, and I felt like I heard her voice saying: "You could create movement by being still". She did, she had such great impact in my life as well.
In grad school I was one of a kind -maybe a novelty- since they were no more Latinos enrolled. I had the pressure to perform. I had to prove that I could do it and I did.
As I was walking to the podium I felt like a butterfly coming out of a cocoon. I have evolved into a confident professional that could be called an expert.What a proud moment. I was able to see the look of approval in my professor's eyes as I spoke. I felt proud to represent Latinas, to represent Puertoricans, to represent my nursing school, to represent U-Mass, and more important to represent myself and what I am capable of accomplishing. I have grown quite much since that first nursing class. The most important thing is that I am humble about all this and never have forgotten that I am the product of a great family in which strong woman were the norm. I felt in love with nursing and that love is stronger than ever.
I will never forget that moment when I took the microphone and didn't need cue cards, or notes...I was standing on my own.
It was my first time speaking in front of such a big crowd. There were over 150 people in attendance. Also in attendance were my clinical, my research, and my doctorate advisors. It was the first time I spoke in front of my professors in my professional role. I was the expert, not the novice. They were going to be learning from me.
As we enjoy the events of the night, and before I spoke I went back in time to when I started nursing school. I had big dreams. I was a shy, kind of nerdy young woman who was terrified of public speaking. I remembered the moment in which I chose to be a psychiatric nurse. That decision came after I met a patient that changed my life. She was my assigned case in the psychiatric hospital in where I did my rotation. She never knew how much she had impacted my professional destiny. Her body was frail, but her message to me was as powerful as they come. I remembered that professor that forced me to have sleepless nights studying, and the one that recommended me to be a professor in the area of mental health. Memories of my master's program followed and I remembered one of my advisors, and I felt like I heard her voice saying: "You could create movement by being still". She did, she had such great impact in my life as well.
In grad school I was one of a kind -maybe a novelty- since they were no more Latinos enrolled. I had the pressure to perform. I had to prove that I could do it and I did.
As I was walking to the podium I felt like a butterfly coming out of a cocoon. I have evolved into a confident professional that could be called an expert.What a proud moment. I was able to see the look of approval in my professor's eyes as I spoke. I felt proud to represent Latinas, to represent Puertoricans, to represent my nursing school, to represent U-Mass, and more important to represent myself and what I am capable of accomplishing. I have grown quite much since that first nursing class. The most important thing is that I am humble about all this and never have forgotten that I am the product of a great family in which strong woman were the norm. I felt in love with nursing and that love is stronger than ever.
I will never forget that moment when I took the microphone and didn't need cue cards, or notes...I was standing on my own.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Lost in Papers
Did I forget I am a blogger? No way, my classes has kept me hostage. I have been a victim of modern slavery, and the worse part is that I am paying to be a slave.
I am looking around and my bed looks like a disaster zone. Maybe an atomic bomb exploded in it last night and I didn't notice. Am I that numb? Instead of fire and smoke there is a mountain of papers, books, pens, research reports, journal articles, markers, and other school supplies. There are also items that I can't recognized, and perhaps I should. My mind is so full that I am constantly pushing things out to accommodate new ones. My mind feels as disorganized as my bed. I am ready to see the end and is close, very close.
Despite all, I had a new experience. The only threesome I had in my life happened this semester when I slept with two text books. Exciting, isn't it?
As I am reaching the end of the semester there is a feeling of exhaustion, mentally and physically. I have noticed that the amount of knowledge isn't the only area of my life that has increased. I noticed that my upper and lower back hurts, probably because of the several extra pounds that I am carrying on my upper and my lower body. This is called collateral damage, because it's not supposed to be happening but seems to be unavoidable. Students, we are such an oppressed group.
Despite all the stressors of this semester, I am happy and proud of my accomplishments. I am one step closer to my doctorare degree...a gift that I am giving to myself and a legacy that I will leave my children. What is that legacy? ...never give up, don't be afraid of challenges, follow your dreams, never allow anyone to put obstacles on your path, don't be afraid to dream and deam big remembering that unless you take the journey dreams don't come true. Without action dreams are only a thought.
I am looking around and my bed looks like a disaster zone. Maybe an atomic bomb exploded in it last night and I didn't notice. Am I that numb? Instead of fire and smoke there is a mountain of papers, books, pens, research reports, journal articles, markers, and other school supplies. There are also items that I can't recognized, and perhaps I should. My mind is so full that I am constantly pushing things out to accommodate new ones. My mind feels as disorganized as my bed. I am ready to see the end and is close, very close.
Despite all, I had a new experience. The only threesome I had in my life happened this semester when I slept with two text books. Exciting, isn't it?
As I am reaching the end of the semester there is a feeling of exhaustion, mentally and physically. I have noticed that the amount of knowledge isn't the only area of my life that has increased. I noticed that my upper and lower back hurts, probably because of the several extra pounds that I am carrying on my upper and my lower body. This is called collateral damage, because it's not supposed to be happening but seems to be unavoidable. Students, we are such an oppressed group.
Despite all the stressors of this semester, I am happy and proud of my accomplishments. I am one step closer to my doctorare degree...a gift that I am giving to myself and a legacy that I will leave my children. What is that legacy? ...never give up, don't be afraid of challenges, follow your dreams, never allow anyone to put obstacles on your path, don't be afraid to dream and deam big remembering that unless you take the journey dreams don't come true. Without action dreams are only a thought.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
A moment of Insanity
Getting ready to work out I realized that all my yoga pants were gone. Also my pajama pants are missing, along with my aeropostale boots. A great mystery since no one has seen them.
A few days later I see my 16 year old daughter looking great. Her style was so appealing, so well put together. I have to say that she always looks great, but there was something different. Where the heck did she get those clothes? Then I realized from where she got them, No she didn't buy them not steal them. They were mine, she found them in my closet. She looked great on my green jacket and my flower print flats. I asked when did you get those, and she said "about three months ago, found them in your closet."
Friday night, as my 14 year old daughter was getting ready for a sleepover. As I entered my bedroom, she asked me, can I wear your zebra print tank top? I hesitated for a moment, because that is one of a kind, then said, yeah go ahead. She then responded, "I already have it on, under my sweatshirt. Do you think it fits well?" She goes further and goes into forbidden territory- my shoe closet. She pulled out my zebra print shoes, yeah, those with the giant silver buckle. They are beautiful, and they have never been worn. She asked, "can I wear them? They will look great with the black leggings, and my black cardigan. I agree that they will look great. She looked beautiful in them. Then she goes back in my closet and pull out a cashmere cardigan. At that second I had a moment of insanity. My mind clouded, I couldn't think. She said "this will look great with my other outfit".
For a moment my I thought I was in a bad dream, and the worse part was is when I realized I wasn't. My daughters (all three) have a great sense of style, and it's nice that two of them find some of clothes cool enough for them to wear.
I guess I should be happy that my teenage children are able to fit in my clothes after I had 4 children. That last sentence felt good, real good.
A few days later I see my 16 year old daughter looking great. Her style was so appealing, so well put together. I have to say that she always looks great, but there was something different. Where the heck did she get those clothes? Then I realized from where she got them, No she didn't buy them not steal them. They were mine, she found them in my closet. She looked great on my green jacket and my flower print flats. I asked when did you get those, and she said "about three months ago, found them in your closet."
Friday night, as my 14 year old daughter was getting ready for a sleepover. As I entered my bedroom, she asked me, can I wear your zebra print tank top? I hesitated for a moment, because that is one of a kind, then said, yeah go ahead. She then responded, "I already have it on, under my sweatshirt. Do you think it fits well?" She goes further and goes into forbidden territory- my shoe closet. She pulled out my zebra print shoes, yeah, those with the giant silver buckle. They are beautiful, and they have never been worn. She asked, "can I wear them? They will look great with the black leggings, and my black cardigan. I agree that they will look great. She looked beautiful in them. Then she goes back in my closet and pull out a cashmere cardigan. At that second I had a moment of insanity. My mind clouded, I couldn't think. She said "this will look great with my other outfit".
For a moment my I thought I was in a bad dream, and the worse part was is when I realized I wasn't. My daughters (all three) have a great sense of style, and it's nice that two of them find some of clothes cool enough for them to wear.
I guess I should be happy that my teenage children are able to fit in my clothes after I had 4 children. That last sentence felt good, real good.
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