Adios 2012, it's been real...

Everyone is posting Happy New Year this and Happy New Year that... Well, here's my end of year post and it comes in the most honest and open way I am ever so able to share will all of you.

In many ways, 2012 and I were either in sync or at odds with each other, just like many of you can relate when it comes to relationships or events in your lives.

Oh 2012 what a year you and I had. I must start with this letter to you ('twas not the original idea, but it works) mainly because I feel I owe you an honest account of all that happened between us, some good, some not so good, but all very much needed.

A year ago I welcomed you with so much hope, anticipation and faith in a new life, opportunities and a renewed spirit with an open heart to take on any challenge life would bring. Little did I know some of the biggest challenges were quickly to come and make appearances to disrupt the somewhat peaceful new life I had carved for myself and the kid.

You brought me a new home, new friends and a community to be part of my every day. Thank you for that. You challenged my work and skills to consider the remote possibilities of thinking outside of the box, while putting in my path teachers that will support me and check in on me, from time to time.

You showed me people's true colors. Perceptions and suspicions were confirmed. Actions spoke louder than words. People truly love from their heart. People also hate with envy. You showed it all to me this year and it was like a veil was lifted. To see a person deliberately hurt another, admit it and feel no remorse. You showed me that. But, in the midst of it all, I witnessed it first hand and emerged a different person. So thanks to you, 2012, I know how NOT to be, how NOT to treat others and how to respect and love people, regardless of what may seem... that is the lesson I learned from you.

2012, you also gave me love and abruptly snatched it away disguised in advice, better judgement and common sense. Understood. Still, it hurt, but it's better this way.

You slapped me with the reality check of significant losses when wins seemed so far away and unreachable. Why? Why the daily ying and yang of happy and sad, peace and turmoil, excitement and fear? Because that's life, the voice says---Ah, hi there, God, I know you have heard this song before, but it's appropriate given then it's time to kiss 2012 good bye. Yes, it is. Thanks. I am glad you approve. It's OK, I am ready.

______________Pause for disclaimer_________________ and change of tune!________________

2012 was a hell of a year, YES, damn it, a hell of a year. I lost loved ones, changed jobs, left a city I had never thought I would ever love so much, and said good bye to dear friends. In exchange, 2012, I now thank you, speaking as the person that emerged, scarred for life, out of the darkness of the turmoil you put me through.

You reminded me of a few things. You can go home, even when home is not "home home", but your adopted home. You never let me take for granted those people that have been part of my life for years. The same ones that have taught me perseverance, patience ( and I need it!), professional development and to believe in myself. You closed doors, but opened many windows. French-door windows with beautiful drapery full of colors, sequence and bling that opened themselves to a whole new world. A world I am falling head over heals for, even though, it looks, oh so familiar. How wonderful to look at things from a fresh, new perspective. Thank you. I love it!

2012 showed me who my friends are, how much my family means to me (not that I didn't know, but I took them for granted- don't deny it, you do it too!), how much a daily hug from my kid means more than any material possession I could ever desire. This year gave me so much, so much, that even those packages that come wrapped in negative, yet glittery and attractive paper, were gifts that taught me the lessons I needed to learn.

As much as it pains me to say good bye to some of the memories of 2012, I must. It's OK. Memories remain and while I have to remind myself that I cannot dwell on them, I am glad they represent beautiful events, people, and places that will be with me forever. They have been part of a most significant year in my life.

Dearest 2012, I do now, honestly, and whole-heartedly thank you. I am ready for the new year and what it will bring. A smile carves my face as I type this, for the anticipation of what is to come, in whatever shape it does come, brings a smile to my face. If my aunt was sitting here, she'd know what smile I am talking about. It's the fun, sneaky one! The one that makes you think I am keeping some secret from the rest of you. A delicious secret that only I know and will enjoy until it's time to share it with the world. I am in a good place. I have learned to let go of those things I can't control- even though, I wish I could- and enjoy what it is here, in my reach, now.

Don't feel bad, 2012. What happened had to happen. There was no choice and so we move on. Last week I went to see "Les Miserables" and the one line that keeps serenading my mind, like a daily prayer comes from Jean Valjean, in his hour of redemption..."you gave me hope, when hope was gone; you gave me strength to journey on..." and so hope fills my daily and faith-filled prayer for the new year. A prayer I share with you all. May hope and excitement for what is to come in 2013 fill your lives, as well as bring you blessings and happiness, always.

Dear friends... aqui y alla, near and far.

Christmas eve, 2012, or as it's called here at home, Noche Buena... Blessed, or "good" night.
It is good indeed, for we are home, San Juan, Puerto Rico.

After two years of a self-imposed hiatus, a cameo at the family Christmas shindig was a must.  :) In all seriousness, where else would I want to be, need to be, at this time of the year. No offense to my adoptive homes of Christmas past, but to me, Christmas does come in the form of open toe shoes, sleeveless LBDs and a lot of bling! But, child, please, I draw the line at the palm tree with lights on. Bring me a blue spruce any day, even if it's plastic. SMILE.

For the last three days I have been catching up with family and friends, re-connecting with the culture in the island that watched me grow. Even though I have had to wrap myself in patience and embrace the 90% humidity that allows for creativity to kick in the "my hair will be up in a ponytail for the next 5 days" department, I am good. I am home.

We got here on Friday and  it's already Monday. The time does fly when you are having fun, or watching movies with Pops, the bro and the kid. Somethings sure don't change in two years, or four, or ten. Others, they sure do. As we get older and are more experienced in life, relationships, life, and, (did I mention life already?) everything that comes with it, responsibilities and ups and downs, appreciation kicks in. The cool thing, at least for me, is that I appreciate the little things, those things, or people that you don't get to see or embrace every day.

Two nights ago, my dearest friends, all proud University of Dayton graduates, some roommates, others almost roommates, fake roommates, you name it, loved friends, and I, got together for our usual gathering. Like two of them said, they only get together when I come to visit, so as the responsible party for this example of quality over quantity, I MUST come home more often. We laughed, we could have cried- some tears came but from laughter!- and candid and honest conversations were shared. On my part, and to quote the great Ricky Ricardo, this Lucy had "a lot of eesssplaining to do!" Moves, changes of jobs, custody battles, you have heard it all, but they had not, not all. And they, my friends and co-conspirators in all things college, are the mirrors I can't ever avoid. I look at them and they reflect myself, my thoughts, my heart, my feelings. They not only know me, but they get me. Talking to them was like talking to myself and guess what, myself answered back! :)

As friends we have all known each other for twenty-plus years, starting with a random trip to visit UD and Xavier U. our senior year in high school. Who would have known that for some of us, our lives were about to change forever. Not only we all decided to enroll in the place that would educate, challenge, thrill and even bore us at times, we all, collectively, welcomed the daring invitation to an adventure that would take us hundreds of miles away from our families. To that, we said "bring it!"

The transformative years as university undergraduate and graduate students, taught us to live, love, cry, study, ask questions, search for truth, OUR own truth and our purpose in life. Admittingly, some of us figured ourselves out quicker than others, but nevertheless, and while we all took very different paths upon our "St. Elmo's Fire" time ended, the memories remain. CUE "St. Elmo's Fire" theme song- classic David Foster.

As adults we have gotten married, had babies, divorced, found loving life partners, rented, owned, loved and lost. We have agreed and disagreed, but most important, agreed to disagree. We don't judge, because we have learned that it only hurts us. We are not perfect. We wouldn't change anything about any of us----except for the claim that one of my friends made of the non-negotiable need for THEM to have a say in who I date next, for I clearly have issues- LOL!!!---- I love them all. They are the sisters I didn't have and the brothers I CHOSE to have. Three of us have kids the same age. Three of us have lost our mothers. We have lost jobs, gotten promoted, started our own businesses, jumped started careers more than once. We love music, but have a unique and random fascination with the Indigo Girls. Don't ask, just love us. :)

Being a University of Dayton graduate means you have been exposed to the meaning of the word community. Community is about the members and the impact each member has, with his/her gifts and talents, on the greater community in this world. I am proud to be a member of this, some might say, small community. Each of us lived our UD experience to the fullest, in different ways, but as a tight, cultural unit, together. And so, here we are twenty -plus years later, making our worlds better places for those we touch every single day.

Dear friends of the time that has not been forgotten, from the land of Lawnview, and College Park and, Alberta! The land of the Joseph's and the Jesse Phillips and the Myriam's and Kettering Hall's. Where we jumped over the rainbow taking the magical mystery tour making stops at the Shed, that old Blue Moon Saloon and the still-standing, classy, checkered floored Timothy's. May WE continue to be in each others lives, in each other's hearts. May the memories we shared continue to bring us laughter, tears, and the joy de vivre we embraced so long ago!

Merry Christmas to all! Family and friends. To all who have friends who are part of your families, hug and hug a lot, love and love hard, laugh and laugh often. Live, ALWAYS, and live fully.

Smile. Eyes. Hug. Kiss. Tear. Goodbye.

A smile. Eyes locked in a deep stare. A hug. A kiss. A tear. A wave good bye.

These are moments we all have experience at some point or another. From the time we are born we have been exposed to these very basic, somewhat natural reflexes we often take for granted. Yet somehow they leave a deep scar, at times painful, yet unforgettable.

How many times we as kids smiled at our parents? I know I did. I smiled my smile of very crooked teeth (and that is not counting the many years I lived toothless- don't ask!) when dad and I had played movie trivia and I got all the answers right! Meaningless and worthless classic Hollywood trivia, anyone? At 10, I was an expert and pops was proud! Smile. When mama spoiled me with the microwave pizza I craved for, while knowing very well I was growing side ways. Oops. Pizza, it's an emotional trigger any day! Smile. A Hello Kitty pencil case, pencil sharpener and a eraser. So cute. Mama knew what made me smile.

When I seriously discovered books, I read Shoeless Joe by W.P. Kinsella ---What, disappointed? No, my first favorite novel was not Anne of Green Gables, or Little Women, although I own both of them, and more. Heidi, Black Beauty, you name it. All the classics. However, the first novel I fully recollect devouring and thoroughly enjoying was Shoeless Joe. Hello love affair with baseball!
Now, books make me smile. My son, now 10 and already a ferocious reader, asked for To Kill A Mockingbird for Christmas- if you follow this blog you know why, if you don't know why, follow this blog. ;) Smile.

I now sit here, 3 days before we get on a plane and fly home to San Juan for a fun, family-filled Navidad, and smile. The day will start early, typical if I have anything to do with planning a trip. A small cup of stress, sprinkled with a dash of anxiety with added excitement as garnish! Bring it. Huge smile, for we will be home with dad, kid, brother, aunts, cousins, uncles, even grandma. It won't get better than that.

When eyes lock in a deep stare is like a door opens and you can almost see inside a person's soul. I love that feeling. It has meant a lot to experience it and I a blessed for having shared that moment with another person. Like two people sharing this little secret, sweet and saved only for them. Locked eyes in a deep stare with a person you love. Heavenly. With your kids because you love them that much. With your best friend after a tough, perhaps painful conversation where hurtful words were exchanged, but friendship prevails and now is stronger. With your parents when you realize you love each other in spite of growing up, growing old, because that love is more powerful than any petty disagreement from the past. Sometimes you don't want to look away. You can't, you won't, but you must. That's OK. Smile. You just shared a unique moment. Smile because it happened.

I am a hugger. I am Puerto Rican, can't help it. Although, Lord, living in Ohio I have had to miserably restrain myself. OK, as long as I can hug the life out of my kid, I get my fix. Living in a culture where physical emotions and expressions are often at arms length, I will argue on the need and positive influence a hug can have. A hug can show support when we are feeling weak in the knees. Hugs can be strength and courage when we are afraid and weary. Hugs congratulate us on special occasions. When the high five or the fist pump are not enough, give a hug. I guarantee you it will have a better, more meaningful affect. Give a hug, get a hug. It will make a difference.

A kiss on the cheek, on the lips, on the hand, on the forehead. A sweeter, lovelier expression of affection there is none. A kiss from the person you love. Smile. A kiss from the child you are watching grow up, even a sloppy one, is welcome with unconditional love. There is no agenda, there is no question. It's love. A kiss on the hand, on the forehead, from your dad, uncle or grandpa. A simple gesture or affection. No agenda, no expectation. Just love.

Many tears are shed by many. Some days more tears are shed then others. Tears are cleansing. Tears are painful. Tears leave this fine line, like a path on the road, that leads down your cheek, down your face. You can see them. They are real. Tears are signs of weakness for some, but represent strength and perseverance to others. Tears are indeed cleansing, for when tears are done streaming down your face and you wipe them off, clarity kicks in. Tears remind you of the lessons you might not have signed up for, yet aced. Tears are OK sometimes.

A wave goodbye, like I have written about before, is part of daily routines. You wave when you greet, when you part. Ciao, bye, see you later. A wave goodbye may be the last one directed at a certain somebody. A wave goodbye means you and a person, or a group, or a congregation, shared a moment, a conversation, a service, a meal, a movie, a wine tasting. You shared time together, but now you part. We may say the time and experience is more valuable than that wave goodbye. Sure, no argument there. However, the wave goodbye often comes with that last hug, a last deep stare among two people, some times that last kiss, that last tear and that last smile.

As we continue to hear about distress and tragedy in our communities, let's not forget those very things we often forget with haste. Let's not forget those little details, gestures and beautifully simple moments we share with those in our lives... Savor the smile, the deep stare in each other's eyes, the hug, the kiss, the tear and the wave. Life is for living... every minute of it.

I want my MTV!

The 12/12/12 Concert for Hurricane Sandy relief is on. When I turned the TV Eddie Vedder was singing praises to Pink Floyd. Admittedly I was not an original fan, a new appreciation experienced.
Adam Sandler's rendition of "Broken Halleluyah" hilarious, yet poignant and heart-felt.
Jon Bon JOvi is singing "Livin on a Prayer" and it seems all of Madison Square Garden is singing along. Thanks, Glee! ;) The Boss, Springsteen performed a minute before. Too cool!

As they announce the next acts: Eric Clapton, Rolling Stones, along with Chris Martin, Alicia Keyes and Paul McCartney, I can't help but regress back to the summer 1985. I want my MTV! I don't quite recall how it all started. What came first, the music or the artist? The wake up call and discovery of music, music videos and the great musicians, singers that created magic. And it was ON TV!! 
It was the year of "We Are The World", "Material Girl" and "Like a Virgin" and when Cyndi Lauper showed me how to have fun- with funky, spiky colored hair! Yeah, yeah, it was the age of Duran Duran, Michael Jackson's Thriller and Bad and wait for it, wait for it..."Can't Fight this Feeling" by REO, "Careless Whispers" by Wham!- George, you are a such a hot mess now! :) and the best, "I want to know what Love is" by Foreigner. What a year... and I didn't even get into the St. Elmo's Fire soundtrack.

Mind you, this was a time in my life when I was also embracing English, not only as my second language, but as my favorite- yes, favorite- and fun- wait, what? -yes, FUN, subject in school! Appreciation of music in my native Spanish came a bit later as significant as "American Rock and Roll" was, mind you. Hombres G, Los Sacados, Joaquin Sabina and Jose Luis Rodriguez, el Puma! LOVE them all. Later came the love of the true LATINO, Puerto Rican "popular" music, rock en espanol, salsa and merengue. While not as cool for high schoolers at the time, always part of our lives. Now, of course, I can't get enough of El Gran Combo and the likes...Sabor!

-----Hold the phone, back to the 80s------ ;)

What I always thought it was kind of weird, and yes, I am kind of weird, was that while I identified with everything, and I mean, everything, pop rock and MTV, I was also fascinated with the likes of The Eagles, The Doobey Brothers, Kansas, Chicago, Air Supply. The "slightly older" crowd-pleasing performers. Also, Queen, Rolling Stones, and so many more... I learned about Jim Morrison and The Doors' music, which was more poetry and therapy, than music, piercing the heart and soul of the ears that dared to listen carefully to the lyrics. Pain and heartbreak beautifully masked in songs of love and loss.

The Beatles were a favorite. I know my dad loved their music and was a big John Lennon fan. Imagine all the people... Yesterday, all my troubles seems so far away. I believe in yesterday. I also have to give a shout out to my aunt, who belted out songs from Toto, humoring me, as I attempted to learn how to use my vocal chords. Sing from the stomach, she would always say. I learned a few years later, right G? :)

I thought I was only suppose to like one kind of music, one genre, one language. I can't, I refuse. I even had a RATT LP and remember wanting to go see KISS in concert. Gene Simmons and his family jewels rock!

Wait... here comes Sugar Lips Mick Jagger!!  LOVE the fact that he is still rockin' at 70?? Bring on Steve Tyler and Aerosmith and Sir Paul. You got me rockin', baby!  Pause for Public Service Announcement in thanksgiving to Disney for hiring Keith Richards to play Jack Sparrow's dad in Pirates. Johnny Depp couldn't have any other man play his dad. It was type-casting genius and now a new generation will, hopefully, recognize him tonight even if he is sober. :) I love it!

Dear higher power above, whether or not we have YOU to thank for the invention of melody, lyrics, instruments that make sound, noise and whatever makes IT happen, Thank you! Music, the instrumental kind, classical, rock and roll, gospel, rap, the hideous reggaetton I have come to like and merengue hip hop, all mean something to some one.

Music can help you get up in the morning. It can serenade you with an instant shot of feelings, emotions, energy and memories. Some may by sad, but most should be good. Music can help you remember loved ones. I remember that afternoon drive to the city when the sun was shining, we rolled down the windows and cranked up the volume of "Walking on Sunshine". I remember singing "NY State of Mind" and "Empire State of Mind" in the plane on my way to NYC. Smile!

Music can help you heal. Every time I hear Bruce Springsteen sing "Born in the USA" I remember how much my mother loved the Boss. Tear. Smile. She used to play "Memory" from CATS. If I could "stage" her funeral again, I would play that song. Smile.

Music will also trigger signals and inside "jokes" that only a certain few understand and get. My roommates, myself and a couple other friends had a code for when parties in our house would start to get a bit out of hand and we wanted them to end. We would yell "Pavarotti?". Yes, please! We'd play certain kinds of songs, those only we knew the words to, and the crowd slowly thinned out. Ha! It may sound a bit mean, but these are the great memories of college for some of us. Sitting on the floor, 4-6 of our closest and dearest friends, singing OUR songs! At that moment, on those few nights together, singing, being together, we made memories to last a lifetime. Magic.

Music represents a year in your life. Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes are simply words. As words are gibberish, mean nothing. Add a tune and a melody and it symbolizes the year after I graduated college and traveled the world with 163 of my closest friends by bus! "Seasons of Love" is a song that celebrates a year in the life of friends... AMEN!

I may not watch MTV now a days. Quite frankly, MTV doesn't play much music anymore, in my opinion. That's OK. Years ago it taught me who great artists were. It taught me history, artistry and appreciation of popular music and more important, international, popular music. It was new; different from what I knew up until that moment. Even if it's through the ipod, YouTube, Pandora, CDs, or Siruis, music is the gift that keeps on giving. Therapy can't get better than that.

Music is now the vehicle for "relief" and with songs of faith, love, a little fun and hope, it is bringing communities together, locally and globally. Smile. I loved my MTV. I still want my MTV! :)

I say a little prayer...

Is it that bad to know what you want? Is it wrong to be ambitious and goal oriented when part of you knows there are certain things you won't be able to achieve? I don't know. I don't think so. I hope not. That might be the answer, I guess, but I really don't know. It seems that the daily prayer, the mantra, or motto-whatever we want to call the instant replay reminder, I for one, must hear in my head every day, often more than once, or twice, or three times a day- gets louder, clearer each time.

How do I properly and justly explain what my mantra, my prayer is? Humor me as I take a stab at it.
Be patient, everything will be OK. Patient... be patient. That is certainly one that I know others may say to themselves, might attempt to gain more, or to learn to be, just patient.

Yes, say hello to the most impatient person in the world! I stand in line to get my coffee, and goodness, why is it that the baristas must be in full TMI detailed conversation mode from the night before when my peppermint mocha needs to be brewed? Never mind that I have a whole 20 minutes before I need to be at work and Starbucks is only 3 minutes away. LOL! I know, I am a mess! :)

The planner in me is also so high maintenance I don't leave for my trip for two weeks but TODAY I tried on three possible outfits to wear Christmas eve. Yes, my bags are almost packed- on the floor, neatly piled. Do I have time? Of course, but why not start planning now. That way I don't have to worry about it at the last minute. I am so not last minute, yet when I work on a tight deadline, I am ON, I focus, I get it done and done well! Random, I am, master Yoda.

What I am rambling about again? Oh yes, knowing what I want, not being patient and planning things out so pathetically precised, it makes Franklyn Covey want MY 7 steps program. Actually, it's more like 3 steps: plan, plan and yes, plan.

Hold the phone! This is what I do and I am fully aware of it, BUT and that is a BIG BUT (hehehehe, c'mon, admit it, you smiled), the more days go by, the more I actually think about it, in the middle of the planning and obsessing of things to come, I stop, think, and force myself to breathe. I take a deep breath, make sure God knows I am trying to be patient, and say "be patient, everything will be OK."

Last year I went to see the cutest, made for the over 55 and retiree, British flick, "The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel." While the movie is clearly meant for those a generation older than mine, I loved it. All the characters were experiencing life changes and life changes are timeless, ageless. The best line in the movie is "Everything will be alright in the end. If it's not alright, it is not yet the end." So what?  If that doesn't teach you to be patient and open to things to come, then I don't know what will.

Are we the fools for believing and hoping and praying and making wishes at night before we go to bed, or on our birthdays before we blow out the candles? Or are we fools for having very specific ambitions, goals and making plans for our careers, families and life without flexibility, slightly dusted with powdered dreams that may never come true?

I don't have the answers for everything. As I type this, the voice tells me to repeat the mantra, the prayer, the wish I wish for every day... "Be patient. Everything will be OK."  Patience, waiting. Such an advent"y" reflection when I was not intentionally planning (no pun intended!) on writing about advent. I guess we all have to be patient about something. We all have to wait for someone to come into our lives for whatever reason; something to happen at work in order for us to feel we are working for the right reason; a holiday to come so we can spend it with loved ones; a call, a text, a dinner date. We are all waiting, and so we must be patient. I must be patient. Life still happens; things will come.

For now I sit here, savoring the smells of Christmas that are coming from the kitchen, from the living room, and close my eyes. I take a deep breath and promise myself to be patient, to take one day at a time, and while I giggle at my silly ways of figuring out how many pairs of shoes can I pack for a week-long's trip, I stop and say... "everything will be alright in the end. If it's not alright, it is not yet the end." ;)

Some enchanted... meeting?

Thank you God for taking me there and back and bringing me home again.

After a long travel -day on Sunday, arriving on a foggy night, the Dayton International Airport was a comfortable sight to see. I was home. Let's not discard the fact that I had an amazing weekend working the Marianists and Marianist Universities booth at a Youth Ministry conference in Orlando.
There will certainly be some blogging and reflecting on the FUN we had WORKING, but that is for another time. What happens at the booth, stays at the booth. LOL ;)

Drove home, got settled after lighting the yummy pumpkin spice candle, and while the flat bread was in the oven, I turned on the TV and found that PBS had a special on the music of Oscar Hammerstein II. Yes, that one, the Rodgers and Hammerstein Hammerstein that gave us, Sound of Music, The King and I, Oklahoma! and South Pacific. Heaven!

They spent more time on South Pacific. It was written and released post WWII in a time when the world was very sensitive and pointing fingers at "them", the bad guys, whoever they were, whatever they looked like. And, at a time when political correctness was not in style, they went there! The theme of prejudice and racism is prevalent and "in your face" but sugar coated (kind of) by having two very different couples fall in love. I don't have to get into details about the story. The American soldier and the Polynesian girl; the older Frenchman and the young American nurse. It all happened one enchanted evening...

Falling in love is something I have not specifically blogged about but have alluded to several times. It is part of life, it is life giving and heart breaking. While having my share of heartaches and heartbreaks, the kind that hurts so much physically that you can't breath, I have learned to compartmentalize. It helps a bit.

Loving a person is multifaceted, multilayer and multi-full of drama! Maybe just among Puerto Ricans, because at least in my family, the level of drama hits very high notes. However, there are different kinds of love... The one that keeps me going these days is the love of a mother to her son. Boy, can that kid make my heart melt with a smile, a devilish bat of the eyelashes and his hugs. I love hugs! What Luis does that surely re boosts my heart and refills it with love every single time is when he insists on holding my hand when he is tucked in at night. He won't let go! I love it... and I know it won't last long, for he will soon not want to spend so much time with Mama. I guess that's OK, right? It's part of life.

The other kinds of love, for family and friends, I have experienced to get better with time. With time you see how you have grown up around cousins, parents, grandparents who, given all the quirks, personality clashes, likes and dislikes, love you and better yet, like you! I love my family, you kind of have to, but I actually LIKE them too! Countdown for champagne Noche Buena toasts has begun!

Ok, ok, I know you are waiting... now comes the romantic love. Oh, that one. I could totally be the debbie downer and write all depressed about my bad luck in that department. How at a young age I lived in a cloud, so up above in the sky, pretending my true feelings, what my gut was telling me, was not true, I had to fall fast and hard thousands and thousands feet to the ground to wake up and speak up, and get out! It wasn't love... it was a dream. It was an illusion and a hunger for approval that kept getting fed with ideas, expectations, plans... someone else's, not mine. Done. Moving on!

When a person goes through heartaches and heartbreaks, what happens is not necessarily a loss. Yes, there is loss, but there is gain. New energy emerges, new opportunities come and every day, the sun comes out- cue "Annie" :)

On a serious note, when it comes to relationships and falling in love with a person, it is true that you can't control when and how it happens. It could happen at the mall, at work, in a retreat, at a conference. No, it's not a lightning bolt, not love at first sight, but there can be a click. Right?  I can only vouch for my own journey. I have loved and I have lost... but I still hope and believe again. I don't believe in love at first sight, but I DO believe in the CLICK. ;)

I know now, with all my heart, a few things too... My heart leaps when I am around passionate people, who are goal oriented, and are do-ers. Without judging, but for me personally, the biggest turn-off is being indifferent and indifference breaks hearts. I love being around believers; believers in what they do and who they are. Whatever you do, do it with integrity, respect and with a little bit of humility. Like my hero archetype, Atticus Finch, with authority without being authoritarian and dictatorial. Take a stand, but do it with respect.

Two people can come from the same place, yeah, that is a bonus, they may speak the same language, but not understand each other at all. Engage me in depth and thought-provoking conversations, while knowing very well, I will need a dose of reality TV from time to time, or ESPN! I love my work and my commitment to education makes me who I am. My friends and family know that makes me, it feeds my mind, my heart, my soul. My faith too. It defines me, even though my church is challenging and often at odds with my own personal beliefs. It has been a blessing to love and be loved by people who feel the same way about their work and their faith. Like Barbara Streisand said after her own "reality check" in "The Mirror has Two Faces" - I want it all. :)

The PBS special on Oscar Hammerstein got me to listen to the lyrics of songs I have heard a million times, seen on the stage and screen, beautifully performed. Had I ever really understood the words? Perhaps not until now. "Some enchanted evening you may see a stranger, you may see a stranger
across a crowded room and somehow you know, you know even then that somewhere you'll see her
again and again."

Are you still there, God? I know you have heard me (in my head, yes!) before, I just don't want to bore you. Just a little nudge to make YOU aware too, that I get what you are doing, I think. You are teaching me, you are helping me and guiding me. You sure have an interesting way of doing it. ;)

What more can I say... I believe. But Oscar wrote it best..."Who can explain it? Who can tell you why? Fools give you reasons, wise men never try."

What we take for granted...

Who is getting over Thanksgiving weekend blues??

Ah, Thanksgiving! For some, it may be a cliche of a holiday; a cry for help before committing pre-meditated consumerism suicide, AKA, Black Friday, or Thursday, or Saturday. I loose track... I am certainly happy to report that I only spent $7 on Friday on cool new shades with a touch of bling bling. Thank you cousin Vivianne! :) My darling, sweet, 12 year old baby cousin Caroline joined in because she wanted to experience Black Friday.

I will be the first to admit that our shopping excursion was short lived because Caroline was called in to be with her mom and sister. In the car we decided to meet up later that evening and I suggested decorating ornaments for the soon to be purchased tree.. Her eyes lit up! In a nutshell, cousins, young and not so young, joined together, over pizza (and wine for the adults-duh!) painting and drawing on cardboard ornaments. Glitter pens, stickers, music playing, tree trimming and all that jazz, made for a really fun, low-key Friday evening at home. I call that Fun Friday!

The feelings and emotions of anticipation for my Thanksgiving holiday in Texas evaporated as I arrived at DIA Wednesday after a very stressful couple of days at work. Man, was this break needed. I am sure many of you are nodding as you read this. Right? Of course, right? Work detox: a must!
In addition to certainly looking forward to regrouping with the Dallas kin, I was sad at the reality that Luis would be spending the holiday with his father. That's ok, it's reality. Last year we were in St. Louis, were friends made us family and we had a lovely time.

In Dallas I got to hang out with a singer, a former cheerleader turned scientist and a flyer. My beautiful second, or third, or whatever times removed cousins. What the hell does "twice removed" even means anyway. I like it en espanol better... primo hermano, segundo, tercero, etc. We barely had time to spend talking about school drama, new school drama, that is, how college is going, or when the next national cheer leading competition is, when it was time to say adios... What little or small amount of time together, we made up in quality, simply being together. This weekend was a great example of quality versus quantity. These girls are lovely and I am blessed they are part of my life.

In Thursday we joined another set of cousins, second, third, whatever, you get the picture. What was incredibly familiar with it all, (mind you, I have not met half of these people before) is the fact that it was familiar. I had heard some of the stories, visited years before for even shorter amounts of time, but it was familiar... Dare I say, it was family? :) Why yes, it was!

I have written about this before. Regardless of heartaches, trials and tribulations, I find the smile, halfway drawn in my face, holding back yet wanting to shine, remembering my pledge to be a better family member. Yes, I smile.Yes, I own it. I also sucked at it- only short-lived though, remember? I wanted to be "Ms. super woman, I don't need anything or anyone, to get what I want, when I want". However, really, when I looked inside and owned the fact that I was not being honest with myself, realized somethings had to change, and part of that was family. Being on your own, far away, does indeed suck at times. ---Second time the word sucks (I guess that's the third) appears-- Disclaimer: find me a better word that describes the sentiments and I will be happy to use it, but for now, it stays. :)

Growing up in a small island where you know there are relatives living in different places, scattered all over the USA was kind of cool. We had "relativos" in New Jersey, New York, California, Texas, Florida, just to name a few. My dad made it part of our education and appreciation of all things "family" that we not only got to meet these relatives, but that we get to know them, travel with them, build even stronger ties that to this day, stand the test of time.

May this be my thanksgiving prayer, blessing, wish upon a star. That I am thankful for those times we "had" to visit with the godparents who smothered us and slapped sloppy kisses on our cheeks when we were 9. For the forced Sunday visits with those, yes, those so-called cousins (we had way too many to keep track of, but we knew the ones we didn't really like) and experienced organized fun- yuk! For the awkward times we took for granted having to call grandma just to say thank you and the many times we had to keep the great-great-great aunt company while she went to the doctor.

For all that we take for granted, the many hugs in the morning so many of you experience, but I don't. For the daily dinners at the table and the sobremesa that I so long to experience again. For the movie dates w pops and the recap and slicing and dicing of cinematographic mastery. For the evenings at home looking through old photo albums- digital pictures do NOT do them justice- smelling that distinctive smell of old Polaroid instant pics and retelling stories that made us laugh and cry, but laugh even more. For the opportunity to get a second chance at being a better daughter, mother, cousin and niece and granddaughter and friend... For the smiles, hugs, hellos, goodmornings, see you tomorrows, I love yous. For everything we take for granted, but fill our lives with the very essence that is the daily life we live, I give thanks.

All I can do is be...

I was not brought into this world to sit back and watch it unfold in front of me without being an active participant. There are many stories I can tell of instances where either something happened, a word was spoken, an injustice done, and how difficult it was for me to sit back and just be. Carefully and intentionally observe the actions taking place in front of my eyes, attempting to figure out the thought process that lead this person or that person to say and do what I just witnessed.  I stop, think, then act.

It's easier said than done. What happens when you know a good friend has a problem with alcohol or other vices. How long do you wait until you say something? You tell her that for her own good she needs to realize she has a problem. It is her problem, yes, but it effects so many. The conversation we had many times and she is very much aware of the issue. Do I get frustrated? Of course. Can I do more? Of course. The impulse to walk away and "teach a lesson" is more powerful than one can fathom. Yet, the tug in your heart to stay won't allow it. What do I decide? What is the best thing in this situation. After years of struggles and constant invitations to ride emotionally drained roller coasters, I stop, think, then act. However, the action this time is more passive. I decide simply to be...

A relative is currently going through major soul seeking in a spiritual journey in order to be at peace with who he really is. Get on with it, I want to scream! How long do we all have to be walking on egg shells around you? God, please tell him it's OK. Tell him we love him no matter what and that it shouldn't matter what others say or if they cast judgement. YOU made him and he is YOURS, and ours and is loved by many. It aches that I can't do anything to help. I need to do, I can't just sit here and do nothing. Anger and frustration are stronger. He refuses the helping hand, the loyalty, support and love offered to him. I look up and point at YOU, yes, YOU upstairs!  Seriously, I just want to help. STOP.... THINK... Act. The inner dialogue of my heart and mind gets louder. The heart says "she is doing it out of love" and the mind quickly lashes back "it's not her problem." All I can do is be...

Last week I spoke with a former colleague. She was venting about having a bad day and how so many years before she had to make work-related decisions that impacted people's lives. Some good, some not so good. I listened. My responce was "I wish I could have been more of a friend to you and helped, but her position, her title and all the politics that came with it, would not allow it". She said the same thing. What was more striking is that she said "but through it all you were there, present in mind and heart and that's all the support I needed." Another eye-opening breakthrough. But I didn't do anything, I couldn't do anything. I was just there...

The moral of this story is, I think --insert smiley :) face here!--- that no matter how much we want to do or feel and have the urge and necessity to impose our /needs unto others, simply being there for them is enough. We can't live people's lives... We must live our own. It kills us to see others suffer and sit back and do nothing. That is not how I am programmed to be. HOWEVER, and that's a big however, I stress the lesson of picking our battles and trusting that some times the best thing to
do, at that particular time, in that particular instance, in that precise moment, is indeed, just to be...
To be there for my friend, to be there for my cousin, to be there for my colleague. To love them no matter what. To trust they know and feel deep in their hearts how much they are loved. To have the faith that they believe in themselves enough that they can get through whatever hurdles they must jump over. That through it all, at the end of the day, we will be here for them. My door is always open because my heart is. As hard of a lesson as this is for many, and for me, keeping my heart open for them to come back, is just as important.

I am a do-er, let's be 100% clear on that. For many years I sat back and did nothing about a lot of things.-cue Cher singing "If I could turn back time"- But life has taught me that sometimes all I can do, all I need to do, is just be...

Movies: my first love, the love that lasts forever :)

Hollywood is in a current kick to release remakes of classics... The latest 80's (hardly old enough of a decade to be a classic in my opinion) victim to the lack of original screenplays penned of late, "Red Dawn".  Don't get me wrong, I won't mind being taken back to the days when Charlie Sheen was cool (not a hot mess) and Ralph Macchio and C.Thomas, Tommy, Howell were still cute. After all, Patrick Swaze does save the day and Jennifer Grey had her original nose.

However, I have a better one for you, Tinsel Town... release the ORIGINAL classics, uncut, commercial free, digitally remastered---NOT colorized if black and white---and surrounded by the smell of real, fresh, movie theatre popcorn.

I just experienced, for the first time in big screen since its original release in 1962, "To Kill a Mockingbird", based on the novel by Harper Lee about her growing up in segregated Georgia. The movie, starring Gregory Peck, is simple, black and white, and controversial due to its subject matter. This is not a movie review, as I suspect that many of you out there are well verse in Atticus Finch, Scout and Boo Radley. What was amazing to witness was my 10 year old son get completely sucked in by the story, the creepiness of the notion that there is a weird neighbor chained to the basement (no, not Sloth, from the Goonies), the wrongful accusation, conviction and murder of a black man who allegedly raped a white woman----yes, Luis did understand what was going on, while the word rape he processed as hurt---and the humor of the dialogue between the kids and the kids and their dad.

The first time I saw this movie, I must have been 11, maybe. I didn't really get the whole premise and certainly did not fully grasp the issues discussed or the impact the role of the ethical lawyer, lame and boring according to his kids, widowed dad. A few years ago AFI (American Film Institute) now famous for its countdowns:100 years of this, 100 best of that, decided to list 100 best heroes and villains on film. Errol Flynn was Robin Hood, Tom Hanks was Jim Lovell, of course, the love of my life, Harrison Ford was Indiana Jones. But the number 1 hero from 100 years of film, was Atticus Finch. This character represents everything even I can own to yearn in a hero: strong presence and authority, without being authoritarian, ethics, kindness, responsible and above all open-minded and loving of all creatures in this Earth, humans and non-humans, blacks, whites, gays and straight. Thank you Atticus, for you reminded me today of what a hero should always be.

Movies have always been part of my life... From my days memorizing lines from Annie, the Parent Trap and Mary Poppins, to memorizing EVERY line from Gone With the Wind. Did I say memorizing? I meant yes, by memory I can recite the whole damn script. May that be considered an open challenge to anyone out there: bring it! ;) Like my dad has often admitted of a quirky skill of his to be able to store unlimited amount of useless movie trivia, I am my father's daughter, and if I was a college professor, the classics would be my topic of research and expertise.

What has been funny at times is to live certain experiences in life that I could have sworn were written for the screen, and then to actually see them featured in a movie makes me wonder if "Big Brother" screen writer is really watching. I think my life, heck, my family and friends make for  extremely colorful and entertaining characters for award winning story lines. But, then again, whose family doesn't, right? ;) I mean, let's admit it. We all have an Aunt Glady (Home for the Holidays), a Lauren Bacall type mom of a diva that steals the spotlight from the daughter's wedding (The Mirror has Two Faces), an overprotective dad of daughters who honors tradition but accepts that times have changed (fabulous Topol in Fiddler on the Roof) or a grandpa who loves us unconditionally, and saves the day like a knight in shining armor (Harry Davenport, Grandpa, in Meet Me in St. Louis).

My son, thank you Upstairs, has been born with the gift of movie loving. It's not about just going to a movie or sitting in front of the TV. The kid knows who directors are--- I have been asked if LucasFilms have kids summer camps---and reads about how movies are made. He appreciates the art of movie making. It's pretty cool! I lived that tonight and I am forever grateful. Parents and their kids have certain things they like to do together. This is ours, with going to basketball games or watching baseball, close seconds.

I felt the need to put some thoughts into words and since God has heard me praise and quote movie line after movie line, here I am. This is another little glimpse into who I am and what I value. Movies often bring to life issues and subject matters, values, that indeed have a great deal of level of importance and depth for some of us.

I will finish with also giving a shout out for another movie, "Won't Back Down." The little movie that couldn't, or could? I cried inside, I cried outside the theatre. It changed my life and added fuel to the already fire burning in my heart to do more for education, for kids and families who need that extra push, that additional pair of hands, resource, dot connector. The next day I did something about it and now I am on a roll. Stay tuned!

That is what movies often do for me, they inspire, they speak to me. Often the message is indeed "snap out it", "let it go" and "drop it and move on" and is as welcome and clear as the voices from even my gut tugging inside my being, struggling with head and heart when decisions to take action are a must. Just wait until I write a reflection on Broadway plays and musicals... RENT defined perhaps one of the most significant years in my life, but that's another entry... ;)

Sometimes you just have to take one for the team.

Take one for the team, will you? What does that even mean, I remember wondering.

Some of us hear this constantly at work, right, athletes?? Although, even if we don't work in anything sports related, we are trained, motivated and hopefully, inspired to work as a team. As a team you have one collective goal and as a team, a group, a united front, you work as hard as you can to reach that goal, together. A dollar amount you need to raise for scholarships, a class you are recruiting in order to stay competitive, a play off game you must win! As a team, you can do it, together.

Working as a team is one thing, taking one for the team is a different concept. What do you mean, Jess?, asks the voice. C'mon, like you don't know. You KNOW what it means, I say as I look up... one word: sacrifice.

A sacrifice is not a thing we can touch or possess or even look at. A sacrifice is something we make when we each give up a certain something in order to make another thing happen. And this "other thing" will be better off because of our sacrifice. A sacrifice is understanding that we can't always get what we want, even though we believe what we want is the best thing for us.

We talk about giving up "stuff" or making sacrifices during lent, for us Catholics out there. When we embrace the concept of giving up something for lent, we are embracing and wholeheartedly, understanding that Jesus died for us. That is the ultimate sacrifice, we are taught. OK, God, I know, I don't need to tell you about that. You literally penned that story. However, it has taken me a few years to get it. I think I get it. I think. What I mean I get is to be OK with the concept of sacrifice.

Disclaimer- just because I admit that I get it doesn't mean I admit it was or is easy!!

I moved to a different city over a year ago. The city, somehow, drew me into it years before and I felt myself falling in love with its streets, monuments, weather, baseball team, schools, oh yes, its schools. As some might believe they predicted, life threw me a curve ball which I swung at and missed. I missed hard. Others might say I should have hit that ball, but no matter what, it would have ended up a sacrifice fly. I had to give up the city, its essence, its people. That is one example of some of the sacrifices I have made. I left, it hurt, but things are as they should be. The rewards are not physical. I did not win a trophy, or the lottery (I wish!!), but by making one sacrifice I won more hugs from the kid, smiles and a new sense of awareness of what is important in life.

Why this topic tonight? Because life and circumstances allow me to "live" many experiences in which I (like many of you out there) learn how to appreciate words like sacrifice. Today I didn't agree with a few things at work. My thoughts and opinions were heard. Rationalized arguments were made and thank goodness, compromises reached. I don't believed I sacrificed anything major, but I did give up a little bit of pride. On second thought, I did sacrifice something... I sacrificed a sense of selfishness that was only hurting me and my work. This one, I am OK with giving up. I was able to look beyond my own wants and needs (some very valid and valued) but had to be put aside.
Our own agenda sometimes has to be sacrificed in order for the bigger picture to be painted. For the program to run smoothly, for the community to be cohesive. I am not implying we change who we are. On the contrary, but to consider the alternatives of looking at things in a different ways, doing things differently, perhaps accepting the necessary sacrifice we must make for the greater good... whatever that greater good is---we are all allowed to have our own definition of greater good!  For me it's access to education, for others is world peace.

Sometimes, it's not about you or me, it's about the operation and implementation of the initiative. While we all have tendencies and are driven to do, do, do, let's do it all, let's be all, but let us not make the ultimate sacrifice of giving up who we are. We are who we are and while we may need to tweak a few things here and there about how we handle life situations, depending on what the circumstances are, sacrifices need to me made. That's OK. I am OK with that, it's part of life. Sometimes it's about the integrity of the work we do and the final goal we must reach.

Sometimes we just have to take one for the team.

Thirty-eight

Carrie Bradshaw said in the first and preferred "Sex and the City" movie to Louise, from St. Louis, "have fun, that's what your twenties are for. Your thirties are for the lessons. Your forties are to pay for the drinks." Well, thank you, Carrie, for that extremely accurate synopsis of the last decade in my life.

So, in just a few short days, three to be specific, I will be turn thirty eight. Ugh... is my first reaction. While Carrie's commentary clearly stresses the fact that she is indeed the 40 year old-paying for the drinks-kind-of- friend, I am not quite there yet. What is relevant to me and my current state of birthday denial and extreme desire to forfeit turning a year older, I do have to admit she is oh so right.

Lessons learned in your thirties should be the title of this entry, but the decade is not over, so I won't wrap things up presuming I have learned everything in life in eight years and am ready to move on to bigger and better things. There are two more left in this lovely collection of years that will soon add up to ten. Ten! My son is ten. It's been ten years since I became a mother, which in fact, has been a gift, a role, yes, a lesson, I have only learned and embrace with all my heart, in my thirties. I am grateful for that, especially in the last year. Because if I wasn't ever described as a Mama Bear ready to aim her claws at ANYONE who attempts or stupidly admits to hurting my child, I am one now. So beware...Smile! ;)

My thirties sure have been eventful. Some events, sad to say, not as joyful, as others, however challenging, welcomed and undeniably necessary. I remember the big bash my family threw me for my 30th. Jess' Italian Bistro. My dad and my brother came from Puerto Rico. It was a very happy time, while short-lived, full of fun memories and the best pics of a blond Luis, two at the time, hanging out with his uncle Jerry.

For some reason when I turned 31, I thought I was falling from the peak of a mountain top. I had reached my peak, in my head, in my heart. It was not fun and we will leave it at that. The next few years brought the lessons we only sign up for by living, the ones that you are not taught in the classroom, but by life itself. These are the lessons I thought I never had to take, especially pass, but here I was, sitting in the front row of "THIS IS YOUR LIFE: What are you going to do with it?" Section 455. That's advanced and upper level, in case you are wondering and the grading scale: PASS or FAIL.

Separation, moving out of the country, attempting to start a new life, while desperately trying to reconnect with an old one to no avail, new jobs, new/old everything, divorce, redefining life "as I knew it.", or so I thought. Can I just write a paper and be done? I am good at that? Voice steps in: Nope. Live, that is what you must do... and figure it out.

Ok, STOP! If you are sad, feel sorry for the things happened, please STOP! Yes, thank you Upstairs. This is meant for the reader as well as for myself. A nice little nudge to focus on the positive is needed occasionally. You see, what I lived and experienced here, and there, and everywhere, trying to get out of a fog that was keeping me from seeing things clearly, was part of the class. Was it difficult? Of course! Breakthrough! As an adult, my process of awakening began. I was 33. An acute sense of awareness began to rise and my voice was starting to get loud.

It was the time when Beyonce so beautifully belted out "Listen."  Between that song and "Patience" my life was becoming a side storyline in "Dreamgirls." In a nutshell, what I was living was a series of life experiences, which included being labeled as a "single-mom", "divorced" and God only knows what else, because I know there were more. But you know, what? Through it all, somehow, no matter how much I have questioned God, yes, YOU upstairs,  (the why's, oh, yes, the why this and why that...) you never left my side. Honestly, and it may sound cheesy, but my faith has been my only loyal and true companion through the last eight crazy years in the rollercoaster of my life.

I prayed to get out of a situation, in which staying put, the socially acceptable alternative, was worse than running and taking the heat for it. I prayed for clarity and understanding of old folk tales that haunted my memory. I prayed for a new opportunities that challenged me in the most remarkable ways. My prayers have been answered, slowly, but surely. I continue to pray for patience and that in the last two years of my thirties I am more patient and understanding of circumstances that are beyond my control, perhaps not meant to be... or meant to be a certain way, not my way.  I will continue to pray for life, love, second chances, friendship and for the notion that I will expire at 40 to go away. You are all welcome to help me with that one. ;)

In the last eight years I have learned to appreciate who I am. In the last eight years I have found my voice. In the last eight years I have been blessed with having incredibly loving people come into my life, leave my life, come into my life again, and so on. Thanks to them, the lessons continue. In the last years I have watched my son grow up and become a smart, beautiful and thoughtful boy, who teaches me every day to be patient and to listen... In the last eight years skills have sharpened and passions for causes that include educating the poor, inspiring generosity in others and finding ways to provide access to students who want it, not just need it, help me get up every morning.

Thanks to the last eight years I know what I want. For the next two years, and I guess, for the next decade to come, I will continue to pray so the lessons I have learned only do good and inspire others...

Goodbyes bring change and change brings goodbyes.

Change is hard. Change ir really hard and it can hurt. There are so many things that have changed in my life the last five-six years, picking just one to write about is practically impossible.

The changes people experience can be small, like changing cars and getting used to driving a sedan after years of driving a SUV; this is minimal change and you get used to it quickly. Changing jobs, for the most part, is difficult- your brain, skills and habits were programmed one way, now thay have to serve a different purpose. With practice it becomes a new habit, routine and a new program in your head, a new software is installed and you keep going.

I am an avid fan of change. I love and thrive at the thrill of the new, of what's to come next and all it will bring. I have changed jobs, changed addresses (too many and I am sooo done!- for now- insert wink here), even changed the way I am around people. I don't think I have changed who I am, but I do believe that with time and life experience, I have changed certain little behavior patterns for the sake of having a better relationship; relationship with my family, my son, my friends. I reach out more often, I plan family visits, I include them in my life. I look up and say thank you.  As independent as I was taught to be, a huge lesson I have learned is that you can't do everything alone. I thought I did and proudly, yet exhausted, wore the crown of Mom of the Decade, because I did it all by myself. What a crock! Been there, done that and I could write a whole book about that, but for now I realize that I have had to change little bits of me in order to be better. Even change some of the environment around me because it simply was not healthy, as comfortable as it was. These are good changes, good little mantras to say, especially when it comes to making them part of a daily, intentional commitment in order to be a better daughter, mother, niece, cousin, friend, colleague, community member.

However, there are those times when change brings goodbyes. We say goodbye in different ways. We say bye even when we know and believe we will see the person, or the place we visited, again. Yes, I am that silly sentimental that said goodbye to Disney World, to the Statue of Liberty, to Old San Juan, and every time I drive on I-75 on my way to the airport and turn towards campus, I see the blue dome of the chapel and say bye, see you soon. I say bye to places, things. Why? Because I believe in them, that's all. Saying good bye to a person when you don't know when you will see them again can hurt, though. I have had to say goodbye to many, many people in my soon to be thirty eight (38, yikes!) years in this world.  When I was twelve I had to say goodbye to my mother and while I didn't quite understand everythng that was happening, I understood death to be that final goodbye; the one that is suppose to hurt like no other hurt, in your heart, body and soul. Yet, because it was a good bye brought to us by death,  it was dare I say, easier to face. Not the death of your mother at twelve years old, but the goodbye itself. It was final, not dragged out. There was closure, eventhough I had no idea what closure was.

When a final goodbye comes under circumstance that only change brings, makes it hard to swallow because of a routine established which we were so used to. It hurts when you must say goodbye to a good friend, a fun co-worker that leaves the office, a high school friend you still are close to, a spouse or partner, a way of living. Goodbyes bring change in talk, chat, text, email, and how often you do it. The daily good mornigns on your way to get coffee are not there. The evening call and daily recap of the day's drama does not come. The deep, thought provocking conversations about issues in poverty and education, higher ed and raising money so students can have access to the amazing education we provide, only left to memory.

So why blog about this? Simply because I have had to live some of these good byes and the change they bring, recently. This change is not the thrilling, exciting one I welcome and embrace. This one hurts. It hurts because of the little things we will miss. The routine is broken and it's hard to get used to a new one. And while this and so many thoughts fill my head with memories, conversations and questions, the voice, (yes, God, I know it's you) tells me to be patient, to again, take one day at a time and to never forget that with time all the hurting will go away. Even years ago, I am reminded that the hurt of embracing a new life went away after time helped me embrace it.

Time heals, I do know that for a fact. After years of blaming myself for making decisions that were not true to who I was and what I wanted, time (and a little Julia Roberts in "Eat, Pray, Love") helped me find forgiveness. The forgiveness in myself, first, for not speaking up, for not being honest and riskier in taking leaps of faith according to ME and not others. Time has indeed, helped heal.

Everything happens for a reason, and perhaps that reason is not clear at this moment, but for many of us, who have had to change jobs, addresses, behaviors, routines and say many goodbyes to dearest friends and family, we must not lose faith and believe. I believe and will continue to embrace change, no matter how much it hurts. Why? Because I have to. There's only one life to live and amidts all the trials and challenges, the pain and goodbyes, there is also all the joy, love and "new days" that come with it.

Every day is indeed a gift and while change and goodbyes suck, yes, they do at times, things can only get better, right? I do hope so. With each new day comes an empty, clear canvas waiting to be splattered with colorful paint. Mistakes will be made, but at the end of the day a work of art is displayed. Life is a journey, not a destination and many, many things change and bring more goodbyes, but also bring hellos and opportunities... That is what we (I) will live for.

Both light and shadow are the dance of love- Rumi.
 

Inspired by the Friar

This reflection was written after my September 23 visit to St. Monica-St. George Parish, in Cincinnati. It added fuel to the fire in my heart to act, to do, not just to be.
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It was a beautiful, crisp and sunny Sunday morning and after we said goodbye to our alumni leaders who were in town for a busy, but fun weekend on campus, I still had to figure out how to juggle the many things yet to be done. Some things were checked off my list, some things not. I was OK with that. The last item on my daily agenda was an hour drive to Cincinnati to hear Richard Rohr, the Franciscan friar, who is known to be outspoken and often controversial on his liberal views of the Church and especially, Catholicisim.

Exhausted from meetings and late nights, I found the energy to get in the car and drive down to St. Monica-St, George Parish, in University Heights, close to the Univ of Cincinnati campus. On my way down I see the new "Hug Me Jesus" statue, on the grounds of Solid Rock Church, in Monroe and I couldn't help but smile. It reminded me of my many early mornings and late nights driving on I-75 to visit Cincinnati area high schools. I would wave at "Touch Down Jesus" and bid him good morning, good evening, see you tomorrow, and the occasional, "seriously?" Chuckle! I have to say, Hug Me J is better proportioned than Big J. Those of you who have seen it know what I mean.

Made it to St. Monica's and was greeted by a very nice man who showed me the way to the side door. As I walked in, the church was practically packed. It was 7:15 p.m. The presentation was to start at 7:30 p.m. Richard Rohr was to be honored by Franciscans Networks for his contribution to the church and his life of service as a Franciscan. Fr. John Quigley welcomed everyone, invited us to stand and pray and introduced the award.
Fr. John spoke of knowing Richard for 50 years, having met him when they were both in school, and later part of the same community. He also began his remarks saying that "well, if the Franciscans don't honor Richard, we can't think of any other Catholic group who will"- the crowd roared in laughter. I thought, my, he is that controversial. Love it.

I am the first to admit not knowing much about Richard Rohr prior to last night. A dear friend would forward me Richard's daily reflections from time to time, especially when the words spoke to our mission to educate the poor, to be better people of faith, to really look at things from a different perspective. Isn't that what we should be about, we both would often ask...

Richard recieved a beautiful wood cut piece of the face of John The Baptist, by Fr. John Quigley, himself. He then took the podium and spoke for a good half hour. It felt like time stood still. His energy and good humor were contagious. He was grateful and humbled. His comments were more of a summary of his life's experiences, plus anecdotes from his ministries in Cincinnati, now New Mexico (his current home) and even Centerville, Ohio at St. Leonard's. More than anything, he spoke of how he has gotten into trouble for preaching in a, shall we say, liberal, rebellious way. He stated "it's not being rebellious when all I am doing is teaching the Gospel in a way that is relevant to people now, not 50 years ago." He admitted to being and having a very conservative point of view years ago, but that life, experiences and prayer, even contemplative prayer, has lead him to an alternative consciousness, an alternative orthodox view of our faith and spirituality." Richard told stories of how the bishop would call his provincial every so often regarding complaints, to what his provincials have stood by him and said "all he is saying is that we need to build the house for the poor instead of preaching about being kind to the poor." Get out and do something! Stop talking and start doing. That is what I kept hearing over and over again in my head. We, our faith, our religion is not meant to just be "churchianity, but christianity", he continued...

I am not doing service to his words, having only a small piece of paper with notes scribbled on to use, so for that, I apologize. In addition to what I already shared, I will also remember his reference to our society being so dualistic, that everything must be "win/lose". Why can't it be win/win?! "The Gospel is a win/win, not win/lose..." The Gospel is in our lives for the sake of transformation; the words, the message are meant to be transformative"- The essence of Christianity, the message of the Gospel is a gift. We need to be open to recieve that gift, treasure it, be grateful and then give it away, share it with those who perhaps need it the most. We must do, act, not just listen. But if we do listen, may the the message and even the messenger be relevant to our ears, because, as Richard said, "the message, even the messenger, is not necessarily what transforms, but it is the reciever who is transformed". The reciever is who is tranformed by the message and at times the messenger to change what needs to be changed, to do what needs to be done. Whatever "that" is of course, can be interpreted differently for each of us.

Last night, I was the reciever. I listened and was tranformed. No, I did not have a mystical epyphany, but what I experienced was more of a supportive, encouraging reminder of feelings, hopes and wants that lived inside me for a very long time. Many of those feelings, hopes and dreams are as practical as scheduling a class, finishing a book, but are also as deep rooted as being a better mother to my son, especially in challenging times and following professional dreams that seemed far-reached. I have been slowly waking up, but I am now awake, aware. Last night's message from Richard was, dare I say, perfect..."You have permission to trust YOUR own experience, to trust YOUR inner experience" To me that means that it is God talking to me, guiding me. Last night I felt the hug, the pad on the back and encouraging "you will be fine, you can do this, now go do it" from God or from all my guardian angels in heaven.

Thank you Richard Rohr, for the courage to be a man of God with the faith and confidence to not settle for status quo and for helping us wake up, stay awake and listen... Now that we have listened, it's time do DO!

Oblivious

Oblivious: lacking remembrance, memory, or mindful attention; lacking active conscious knowledge or awareness. Thank you Webster.! I wanted to make sure I accurately defined the word that has been, both in my mind, but also captured feelings I collected. Here are samples of memories and experiences, both personal and from others.

This is certainly the word of the day. It is a word that summarizes how certain human species act, speak or treat others with complete, shameless, mind-boggling cluelessness and DISRESPECT for the aftermath or consequences that follow.

A student has taken all the courses necessary and he considers himself an "expert" in a subject. Years have gone by and he is constantly regarded as such and appreciated for his expertise, appreciation for the subject-matter and even asked to help with special projects. What happens with time is that the student, no-longer a student in age, but certainly in thirst of new knowledge that compliments and nourishes what he already knows, offers his same expertise, support. Even that same knowledge that was so well developed with time and resources at his fingertips, he wants to share. Unfortunately, for some reason, people he works with, even his own teachers, begin saying "NO" whenever he offers insight, suggestions, new ideas.

The "NO" is not the main issue. Actually, he is used to it, for he has lived through quite a few "no's" that only too often he wrestles with the question: "Am I the fool for believing in making a difference or for trying over and over again knowing I will get the same response?" Putting the "NO" and the question of whether or not to keep trying aside (because he knows in his heart he will keep on keeping on!) what is even more ridiculously insane is how the NOs (as we will call them) indeed say no and act so oblivious to the fact that the way they have shared this "no" has come across as condescending, disrespectful and even mean. And OMG, they still act like nothing happened. Back to the definition for the sake of having a good reference; mindful attention- NOT, lack conscious awareness- YES!... mindful attention and awareness is lacking when unfortunately, we say something, do something and don't realize how careless and insensitive we can be and waltz away cool as a cucumber soaking in a bath of gloat. Gross...

When it gets personal is when it really p....s you off! One time someone lied to my face and he knew that I knew that he was lying and acted like nothing. It ended up messing up a project for work and still to the day, he has not owned it, apologized for it. He pompously acts oblivious to what happened and how it has affected the work environment.

Another student once shared with me that her boyfriend used her. He used her emotionally, physically, spiritually. She was so enthralled with the relationship. She lived for this guy. He dragged her along and she went with it-most of it emotionally. She rearranged her entire life around him, he knew it and took advantage of the situation. It was all too convenient for him. Years later, in her attempts to be level-headed adult and maintain a friendship, he is clueless, oblivious to how deeply he hurt her. He not once, after all these years, owned his role during and in what came after the relationship ended. He would seek her out and be friendly, emailing, calling once in awhile,  acting like nothing happened. They had friends in common and went to the same college, so it was hard to completely walk away. Until now. Once more, in an email exchange, she waited for one caring word, one "how are you, really?, I am sorry I hurt you" but only the usual nothing came from him, just chit chat and chatter. Oblivious, he was, is, my young apprentice. Sorry he will be if he doesn't realize what he is doing, or should I say, what he hasn't done.

Today, yours truly experienced the lovely, bitter taste of the oblivious from a friend, or so I thought...
I called to say hello and check in with a friend I haven't seen in a while. We were close, very close. My friend goes "any news? So, what'cha got for me?" It's in the tone, carajo! Sorry to disappoint, but I got nothing for you other than hello, HOW are YOU and hope you are well? That's all... Coqui.... coqui.....coqui.   That's crickets.... crickets.... .crickets to all you non-Ricans. Apparently I needed a list of things to report back as a reason to call...  Seriously? I don't know, I was mad. Like I need a reason to call up a friend. Clueless! Yes, voice, I hear ya... some people are just like that, I guess. UGH. I think I just heard the voice say: child, please, just smile and walk away; kill'em with kindness, you'll go far and have less wrinkles!

OK, maybe I am just making a big deal about something small, maybe I shouldn't care. Maybe I shouldn't engage in conversations and completely walk away from those who act oblivious to me. However, speaking for someone who up to now only cared toooo much about what others think, say and believe about me, I have learned to pick my battles. I have learned to be much more aware of the way I do things, speak to others, make decisions. I am not perfect, no one is, but I will at least attempt to achieve perfect awareness so oblivious I become NOT! :)

License plates and basketball!

Admiring fall colors that are in full bloom, the yellows, reds, oranges and browns, in contrast to a beautiful crisp, blue sky, I asked "is it really October 20 God, and why do sometimes days go so slow and other times, fly by?" I smile; no hesitation or worry or longing for an answer. I simply, peacefully, smile.

The smile comes as I pull up to campus and right away notice the different license plates on cars parked on the street and driving around. Illinois, Ohio, Michigan, Missouri, Ohio, Missouri, Maryland, New York, Ohio, New Jersey, Missouri, Illinois, Ohio... You get the picture. It's family weekend and I made plans to celebrate it with my cuz, the college junior!

Maria Angelica, don't panic! ;)

The last thing I want to is embarrass her, since she will be reading this, so I will mainly share about the chosen title of this entry: license plates and basketball...

License plates on cars fill the lot at the basketball arena. The big football game started later that afternoon, but we were there to see the basketball teams for practice drills and games! We are a basketball school, no matter what other people say, and basketball games are full of energy, community, family and warmth. It literally, emotionally and for some, spiritually, gets us through the winter. There are families from all over. I attempt to imagine what their stories are. How long have mom and dad been together? Is that real mom or step dad? How many siblings stayed home because they had other commitments? Are they alumni? Did that family drive the six hours from St. Louis and stopped in Terre Haute, IN for a stretch, some gas and of course, a Starbucks? I smile. I hope they enjoy their time together, their kid's experience and their collective experiences as a family.

God, thanks, really. Some times we may not say thank you enough, but you granted both of us, cousin and I, with the gift of an incredible family. The word "incredible'' is very loaded, as it represents with bold awe and admiration the complexity of what family is. Throughout the day we told stories, we laughed and witnessing how many grandparents were visiting grand kids, couldn't help but tell Abuela stories. I remembered, how several years ago, co-workers and I were at a student's graduation party and we all did jello shots with the grad's grandmother!!  Hysterical!  Tootie (Maria Angelica) and I looked at each other and said "Abuela would have done that! And she would have LIKED  it!" "iAy, que rico, si es gelatina, dulcesita, dame otro!" LOL

I zone in on family, of course, because it's Family Weekend and what could be more important that family? Not many things, but I am sure it depends who you ask. Those of us who are blessed to be born into one are raised and taught how to do this, how to do that. We are taught, for the most part, how to be. At some point in our lives we realize we are who we are, individuals, with our own independent thoughts and needs and wants, even if it took us into our 30s to speak up and stand for ourselves. However, we are still part of a collective nucleus, our family. I can speak for one that will finally go home for Christmas after two years? The whys don't matter anymore. The point is I am going and it's about damn time.

 Again, God, today is about thank you. Thank you for letting us take the best of our families and sharing it with the world. Thank you for the challenges of our families, for like many others, we are not perfect, but we learn and get better with time, through our loyalty, respect and unconditional love for each other.

So, why license plates and basketball?  Simple. They have been instruments to make memories. Now in my mind and in my heart I can say my cousin and I celebrated Family Weekend as a family! We cheered, laughed, counted at least ten Illinois plates in the Milano's parking lot. There must have been a special, I thought! Basketball, same thing. We remembered games two years ago and were saddened by the once I missed last year. We (Ok, I) pretended to know more about the technique of the game than I really do, but we did it together, and we laughed! I guess if there's a point I am to make, is to remind myself to make memories... as many as I possibly can. They will be with me forever!

Trans, trans, trans...

Today's convo with the Guy Upstairs was more of a collection of memories I tried to categorize in my head. I remembered an inspiring lecture/presentation by a liberal Franciscan friar (which I will blog about later on-it's really good!!), traveling through Europe on a bus with 263 people after college and strategic planning for a social media fundraising campaign. Needless to say, I picked another, more relevant to the topic of the day at work: how do we tell our story as a quality institution of higher learning.

A few weeks ago I sat in the, let's say, 10th row, of the auditorium where staff members on campus gathered for a meeting for updates from the administration.

WAIT, stuck!!! Where am I going with this?? It 's too early for writer's block, c'mon! Ok, I do want to write about what I experienced at this meeting because it was too good NOT to share, especially for those of us out there, education geeks (and proud of it!!!) who have chosen to live their/our lives in educational settings... especially when we actually, wholeheartedly, believe in this stuff. Really, we do. Working in education can also be frustrating and draining, but I can speak for friends that live it every day. Man, it IS worth it. And more than anything, we, idealists and optimists (sarcastic and witty, at times!) think we can change the world... one kid, young adult, parent, teacher, at a time...  Now, I can take this entry and go into a very different direction, but I will stick to my initial idea...

One of our administrators, who is both loved and respected as a scholar in mind and heart, plus teaching and service, couldn't have said it best. He began telling a story of transaction, transmission and transformation. I said, huh?? He started just like that: "I am going to tell you a story of transaction, transmission and transformation."  Of course everyone gave him a deer in headlights look. Seriously?  Where is he going with this?  Ok, let's give him a chance, I really like this guy. He has been a mentor, colleague and caring "dad-like" figure, always respecting me and my work and really, truly, caring.

Joe said, among many other things, "our work, what we do in this university community, a community of learners, scholars and servant-leaders, is offer transactions." He continued saying that when we invite students to be part of this community we make a transaction with them. We offer to educate them with our resources, both physical and theoretical and they show up, listen and take it in. The transaction between us and them is made. Then comes transmission. Now what, Joe? Where are you taking this? "Once students are IN and our transaction is complete, the transmission begins." I am hooked!  This transmission that is taking place is the learning, the living, the crying, the laughing, the supportive presence and virtual hug. The pat on the back when things don't go well, the life that people, students, faculty and staff, experience here. It is like magic and at times, impossible to explain. A transmission of emotions, of knowledge being questioned, challenged, while developing minds that compliment the heart and attempt, although difficult at times (ha! I know!) to balance, to find that imperfect compliment.

Tell me more!!

After the transaction has led to transmission then the tranformation happens. Initially, it's the students that are tranformed. They are transformed by the initial introduction to an educational environment thrilled to welcome them as they are, to meet where intellectually, emotionally and spiritually they are, and that's ok. Through classroom experience, embedded into curricula that embraces learning outside the norms of four walls and a smartboard, our community is tranformed by being present. I remember hearing an older proff once telling me that at times it did not matter if you were the first one to speak up, what mattered is that you were there, you were present. Even the adults are seduced by the magic that happens when they walk down the path from a building that might look old and musty, but whispers lectures by great ones, to the steps of a newer one that oozes opportuntiy, new energy, new knowledge. I am transformed.

Many of us are in awe of what we just witnessed. If you weren't there, I am certainly not doing justice to his words and inspiration, so use your imagination. It was indeed magic.

Joe says... "well, and with all these transactions, transmissions and transformations that take place on this campus, we clearly see the word that connects all three is trans"- but do me a favor, he continued. "take out trans. What do you have left?" BRAVO Joe! If you take out trans you have
mission, action and formation!  Genius!  Our mission as educators empowers and inspires us to action, which leads to formation. We are then formed to be better teachers, engineers, doctors, accountants, people. We are formed to then be sent forth and form others to be better human beings.

I looked up and smiled. Hey, Friend, I got it! Tell you what, stick me with and help me stay true to the mission, take action so I can transform. This is pretty cool, I have to say. Cheesy, some of you may say, but I don't care. I have lived it... not easy to figure out, I will admit, but very cool.

In conclusion, yeah, I am writing in honor of education. I dedicate this post to all my fellow education geeks who live, breathe and love for this thing, this magic that happens when you can witness young minds ask questions, challenge authority (hehehe, that is a must sometimes!) and develop new knowledge. If we can also be there to guide and discern with them, well, that's just the icing on the cake!

Here we go...!

 

For a couple of years now I have toyed with the idea of bloggin, heck, for writing. I thought I was an OK writer, but never really felt confident enough to actually write something and let another person read, particularly, critique. A number of life experiences led me to write and after getting a very supportive "yes, you CAN write" by a former college professor, I penned my first reflection paper.

 

Fast-forward and today's first official blog post is a result of a long afternoon of challenging conversations with many, many, many people and a collection of recent memories that seem to clash in my head and create a perfect storm. Here it is... my lesson for the day, my conversation with God.

 

Seriously, God, seriously???

 

A million thoughts in my head and that voice, yes, that one, tells me, write it out. Well, where to start? Seriously, God, cut me some slack!

 

Now those reading this may wonder, what is she talking about? What now? Well, sorry to dissappoint, but it's not one thing, it's a plethora, a potpourri, a cluster "f..." of moments lived, experienced and heart felt emotions mixed in with rationalizing and attempts on decision making... LAAAAWWDD! How do we balance the heart and the head? How do we, I, find that "happy place" in which I can agree to disagree with my own thoughts, which will lead then (let's hope)_to making the right decision.  Well, I guess God has a sense of humor, a very sarcastic, dry and often bitter sense of humor. It must be humor, because some of these tests should make us laugh at the end, right? Shouldn't they? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?  

 

My current cause of disarray is relationships. Ah, the complexity of people, human beings, or as I'd like to call them at this moment, insane, self-centered, bodies of mass that are so deliciously appealing, pulling on your heart-strings and playing the ivory keys of your emotions to their heart's delight, just to turn around and cast you aside like this morning's paper and pretend they never read the pages of your soul of your, of your heart. And yet, you are so attracted to them you can't stand it; you can't stand to walk away, to say good-bye forever, to cast THEM aside and say I am done with you.  Why not, I ask myself? Seriousy, God? Why not? 

 

Perhaps the answer isn't in the "why not" but maybe the answer is... maybe... sometimes... later. For now, we learn from them. Huh??? Seriously? Why would I want to be in the same room with a person who doesn't care? Why should I work as hard as the co-worker who doesn't love what they do? Why should I be the one to carry the load? The voice, yes, that one again, says..."because they are dressed up as lessons." Lessons are suppose to be, dare I say, pleasant and while some of us were'nt in love with school and homework, aren't you suppose to feel better when you "learn a lesson? 

 

------Pause for dramatic effect---------- or should I say SLAP in the face in a very "Loretta-ish" (cue Moonstruck): SNAP OUT OF IT!

 

In conversations with some of those same self-centered, the world-revolves around me, insane people, that I admit to love and respect (most of the time!;)) I have to admit to occassionally learning a thing or two. From the mean person, I have learned to be kind; from the dishonest co-worker, I learned to tell the truth at all costs; from the confused, I have learned to pray for them and their confusion; from the loyal leader, I have learned perseverance and to lead with the heart; from the stern and often cold, I have learned to smile in his/her presence. From the shallow and empty, I have learned not to make things about me, but about what's best for the community. From many of these people and experiences, I have learned what not to do and how not to be... Breakthrough! 

 

Wow... If I could only remember this all day, every day. But it's not that simple, is it? So, what's the conclusion of this stream of consciousness, semi-confession without details, but full of underline passive-aggressive jabs? That no one said life was easy and people are not easy to figure out. Let me be the first to own that I can count with one hand those people who really know me. They may say I am "all of the above" -and that's ok. Lord, am I reaching that "age" where I am finally figuring things out??  Dammmmmm, it's about time. But, God, seriously? Are you there? I know you are. Just, if I may, let me ask for one more teenie-tiny thing to conclude this note. I ask, in thanksgiving, for the patience that I so need, but have been granted, in order to embrace these wonderfully, selfish and not-so-kind teachers in life. Because of them I am a better person..