Snap Krackle 'n Pop!: Unexpected beauty!

Snap Krackle 'n Pop!: Unexpected beauty!: Every spring day until summer I wait in anticipation of what Mother Nature has prepared for us in the backyard.  Ours may not be a carefully...

Unexpected beauty!

Every spring day until summer I wait in anticipation of what Mother Nature has prepared for us in the backyard. 

Ours may not be a carefully and lovingly tendered garden like those of England, but it is beautiful indeed and I’m always awed by such beauty with so little care. 

This year was more beautiful than ever with new blooms and fragrant smells some which I’d not experienced before —because of the pandemic, Earth got a bit of a fighting chance and we were richly rewarded in the process.

I must always remember that God’s in control.

Reflection on the virus

Reflection on this crisis. 

By now, most of us should pretty much be used to the government-imposed state of staying home or being quarantined. 

I’m sure that for some of us it’s been a time of reflection. Let’s think about this for a second and try to figure out what God is trying to tell us. 

As a Christian, I strongly believe that God’s hand is in every situation—this present situation we’re undergoing is no exception. True that sadly we’ve lost thousands worldwide, and more cases continue to pop up. But we need to trust that God is in control of our lives and that He’ll see us through this most terrible ordeal, just as He has in previous ones. 

My deepest condolences go out to all who have lost loved ones and to all who are sick with little hope of survival. May all who died be resting in God’s arms. 

I’m sure I’m going to get some criticism here, but I’m going to go out on a limb anyway. As in every dire situation, maybe we should try to see the rainbow behind the dark clouds, because God calls us to be joyful even in the face of death. 

May God keep us strong and positive.

Let’s study the situation and pretend for a second that there’s no deadly virus hanging over our heads. Pretend for a second that we’re living in an alternative universe. An alternative universe, where people stay home and get paid to do so.

Where families spend precious time together—parents with children and vice versa, sharing meals around the table, taking up new hobbies or renewing old ones, spring cleaning or actually disinfecting their homes. Adult children taking more attention to their elderly’s needs—rising to the occasion in new and positive ways.

Families through out the world interacting in a way like never before—frolicking in the backyard, playing favorite games, indoors listening to music, dancing.

The young taking care of the elderly. The elderly’s needs being met by loving individuals, be they family or strangers.

Families actually staying home instead of at the malls spending their hard-earned money on another unnecessary item; dads entertaining their little ones instead of hanging out at the local bar; siblings sharing time with one another reconnecting again.

Who would have thought that social media would actually be embraced the way it’s been embraced, keeping us emotionally connected while physically disconnected? Never in the history of the world have we been more connected emotionally and spiritually.

Does this sound like a somewhat utopian way of life? You bet it does! 

So I ask you, do you think God is trying to tell us something?

Comments are welcomed, but please no bashing and no politics.  

Better to laugh than cry

During the lockdown —

It’s always better to look at the bright side.

1. while grocery stores are taking weeks, sometimes months, to deliver, liquor wholesalers are delivering in a matter of days. We might die of hunger, but I can almost bet we’ll have a smile on our face!
2. kitchens have been turned into labs—mayo is being substituted for eggs, coconut oil for butter, pancake mix for flour, and that’s just for starters. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that all this experimenting doesn’t blow up in my face?!
3. when toilet paper finally crashed under the weight of the virus, counterparts tissues, napkins, and paper towels stepped up to the plate. In the meantime, something that rarely happens, trees are starting to sweat?!
4. teenagers, who normally want nothing to do with their parents, now clamor for their attention. It took a virus to get them out of their rooms and at the dinner table.
5. doggies are very confused of late. Thoughts run the gamut, ‘what’d you do with my mom?’ (Mine was younger and prettier.) What?! You’re not leaving me, again? Or, hold it, hold it! You want to share my doggie path?!And, Aaargh! when do I get my sofa back?
6. Ever notice how people are acting more and more like their dogs and vice versa. Now, if I hear the slightest sound outside, I run excitedly to the front window to see who is the brave one going for a walk around the block, or a jog up and down the hill. 
7. Seriously, all kidding aside, laughter is the best medicine. Now is that a conundrum or what?
8. When life gives you lemons, don’t just make lemonade. Make lemon meringue pie, lemon bars, lemon snaps and freeze them. Better to freeze baked goods than lemons. 

Snap Krackle 'n Pop!: Amsterdam 2 Medium

Snap Krackle 'n Pop!: Amsterdam 2 Medium

Remembering Mom’s Last Days

My last visit with Mom
(Written on the 12th of September of 2013, exactly eight months after Mom went home to the Lord.)

Several days ago, I posted a picture of Mom and Crissy on Facebook. It was taken at her youngest grandson’s wedding the year before.  As I studied her face in that picture, I could see the pain that Mom was already enduring but keeping to herself. Paradoxically, while that day was one of the happiest days in her life, it was also probably one of the worst, in terms of the physical pain she was going through. And just as important, of not being able to fully partake of such a joyful event.

 I had to take her outside and away from the music her head hurt so much.

Looking back on the days leading up to what should have been one of her happiest, the night before the wedding she insisted on waiting up for Cristina and moi, who had flown in for the joyful event. Our plane landed late that Friday evening; it took forever to get our car rental; and then we got stuck in the worst traffic on Route 52. 

If I had known of Mom’s accelerating feeble state, I would have made other arrangements to avoid her additional stress that night.

As she was in the habit of doing she had cooked for us and was anxiously waiting for us to get home and eat. I tried to convince her over the phone, to go to bed and that we would see her the next day.

It was close to midnight when we finally arrived at Mom’s. She was still up waiting for us. After the hugs and the kisses, she went into the kitchen to serve us arroz con gandules and pasteles: the meal she had lovingly prepared for us, undoubtedly with some effort. It broke my heart. I also understood that she was making a real effort to stay up past her bedtime to welcome us home.

The next day after breakfast the three of us drove into town for some last minute shopping. Mom was genuinely happy as we encircled the Cabo Rojo plaza, going from store to store looking for a pair of sunglasses and the perfect pair of shoes for her to wear to the wedding. She reminded me of a teenager looking for the perfect accessories for a special event. I’ll never forget the look of contentment on her face when we finally found her shoes. Having checked off everything on our list we headed back home, not before indulging our taste buds to the tasty chicken tacos and fries at Taco Maker in the on La 100 only minutes away from the house.

As the three generations of women enjoyed precious quality time over lunch, I witnessed a sense of peace in her demeanor. Yet I also detected a faraway look in her eyes, one which I can only describe as her being in two places at once—elated to be sharing this special moment with her daughter and granddaughter but also wary about a bleak future. For some time I tried putting myself in her situation, and wondered what she must be thinking or going through as she neared 90.

A week later Mom and I went back to Taco Maker—we both love the fast food they serve. After lunch we drove to Mayaguez Mall to exchange the nightgown I brought her as a gift from home. She chose one I thought more whimsical which I didn’t think was as nice; one I thought didn’t seem to fit her classic style. Nonetheless, I respected her choice and was happy for her.

I like to believe that Mom and I shared a special bond, as I’m sure she also had with my older and younger sisters. I would like to believe that our relationship was unlike the bond she shared with Kimi and Elba, which makes perfect sense since we are three different people with different personalities. Yet deep in my heart, I suspected that Mom probably wished she had been more like me—the rebel in the family. With me, she felt free to say whatever was on her mind. And I appreciated that. I welcomed her sincerity and prided myself in the fact that she could feel that comfortable around me.

On her last visit to River Edge, she made me cry over something she said to me.  I was dyeing her hair and she was not happy with the color. I should mention that I can’t remember Mom ever saying anything to make me cry like that.  

She brought me to tears that time—tears of hurt—of her subconsciously comparing me to my younger sister. 

Looking back I realize it was never Mom’s intention to hurt me. The fact is those tears of mine had been building up inside me for months, at the sense of loss of my once youthful and spry mother. Of anticipating having to say goodbye to her sooner than I could imagine. Of me not having enough patience with my dear and elderly parent, when all she did was point out in her innocent way how Kimi always did her hair and never complained, while I could never hide my dislike at doing anyone’s hair. 

Except for doing my girls’ hair when they were little, doing anyone’s hair is not my favorite thing to do.  And Mom’s hair was no exception. In my defense I have a hard enough time doing my own hair. I was so annoyed with her comparison that I lashed out, “Yes, I know, Kimi is perfect.” Then I broke down and cried like I’d never cried over anything before.

It never occurred to me that Mom might be looking for attention from me but was probably going about it the wrong way.  

I eventually apologized for my outburst. Mom, however, was not moved. And she never apologized, at least not formally. Obviously with me, Mom was free to say whatever was on her mind. Apparently she didn’t think it necessary to apologize, because when people love each other words are sometimes redundant. And like the famous line from Love Story, “Love is never having to say you’re sorry!” After a couple of hours of I licking my emotional wounds, I was okay and Mom and I were buddies again.

That was the kind of relationship Mom and I had. I always tried to remember that she didn’t have much time left on earth. She was 88, only two years away from the big 90. And, how many people live to be 90, and in Mom’s case, still look as good?

Mom’s longevity and good genes were a blessing from God. Her children and grandchildren were blessed to have her genes. I reminded my girls that we should cherish every second we had with her, and that’s what we did.

At Karen and BB’s beach wedding, Mom complained of a splitting head pain. My heart ached for her. I tried putting myself in her shoes and realize what a huge sacrifice she must be making to be present for her grandchildren. The air-conditioning crashed on that tropical August night. The stifling heat and insufferable humidity were too much. In spite of my light summer dress, I perspired as if I’d been working under a scorching sun all day, and could only imagine what Mom herself was going through. I turned to see the pained face then quietly led her out to the terrace facing the ocean, where we sat and talked for hours.

Mom looked absolutely beautiful that night in a royal blue sequined ensemble that Kimi had picked out for her; and she wore the comfortable shoes that Crissy and I got for her earlier. And guess what? I did her hair in an up-do, just as nice as Kimi would have done.  And I didn’t complain—as a matter of fact, I was elated to do her hair.

Mom and I shared some beautiful stories that night. After having the dinner that was brought out to us, she asked if I would take her back to our hotel room. Back at the room I helped her into bed and decided not to return to the wedding so as to keep watch over her. Upon her insistence, however, I returned to get us a piece of cake.

That night I lost my favorite pair of shoes, a pair of gold strappy high-heel sandals—a fact that upset me for weeks. Looking back, nothing mattered now; not even missing out on my nephew’s wedding, or losing my shoes. The only thing that matter was giving Mom the attention and the company she needed right there and then. 

When I returned with the mouthwatering cake, Mom who never went to bed without her tea and sometimes a light snack, wouldn’t get up to have the cake, asking that I save her piece. She would have it the next day, she said.

My recollection of that next day and the following 21 days that followed, are as vivid as the computer sitting in front of me. Somehow Mom knew, as well as I also knew in the back of my head, that we would never get back this precious time. In essence, it was God’s special gift to both of us, one I will eternally be grateful for. Though never enough time, this was a chance to bitter-sweetly etch my last days with Mom forever in my heart. 

I love you Mom, always and forever. 

because life doesn't stop or wait for anyone....

It's already the end of March and three weeks from Easter. After that, time will again fly and before we know it it'll be summer.

How does one slow the days?

As we age obviously we know our time on earth is dwindling and we want to accomplish those things we've put on the back burner, things we keep telling ourselves we will eventually take care of but which we never do. Our brain tricks us into believing we have time. But do we really? That's trickery and unless we snap out of that mentality, we will remain stagnant, wishing we could tackle whatever it is we need to do.

I know, I know. It can be overwhelming. It can zap the energy out of us, especially if we're already dealing with other stuff such as illness, emotional hurts, financial difficulty, etc. There's a slew of incidentals we could be dealing with, and that doesn't make it any easier. But, rejoice. As long as we have life in us, there is hope for us.

Easter is a time for new beginnings, but we don't have to wait for Easter to start on our to-do list. With God all things are possible. Plus, Rome wasn't built in one day. The trick is to start small.

My biggest project is emptying out the house's four levels, basement, first and second floors, and attic. But my biggest obstacle is my health. Do I use my poor health and lack of energy as an excuse, or do I try to tackle a bit at a time. A good friend accomplished that which I've been trying to do for years; but she lives alone and doesn't have to account to anyone for anything she does.

Sometimes our lives affect others and we need to be mindful of that as well. But with the right attitude and with God on our side all things are possible.

Below are some pictures of last Spring's project: I, myself, alone, converted the side porch I'd been using as a warehouse into a guestroom. With God's help, I plan to clean to clean out the attic and basement, or at least one of them this Spring.

What's on your to do list? Do you want to visit the pyramids of Egypt, write a book. Possibly get that Masters in your field. Don't be dissuaded, go for it because time doesn't stop or wait for anyone.