tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20421520628665200842024-03-05T04:12:23.367-08:00Times are umm...DIFFERENT!Dianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12368376880999951356noreply@blogger.comBlogger45125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2042152062866520084.post-75249356547091641182014-01-20T00:51:00.000-08:002014-01-20T00:55:32.407-08:00Estrella's House<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Estrella Rojas was only two years old when her life was ended by her mother's boyfriend. (View her story at <a href="http://cachidalgo.org/estrellas-house/">http://cachidalgo.org/estrellas-house/</a> ) Formed out of The Children's Advocacy Center of Hidalgo County, one of a larger network of centers committed to protecting children from abuse and neglect, Estrellas's House was established in her memory. Estrella's House is a safe haven with a child-friendly, non-institutional environment providing a place where young victims can tell their story without fear of repercussion. Ralph and I recently visited Estrella's House to deliver a small cash donation on behalf of our Telecom Pioneer volunteer organization. <br />
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Estrella's house averages approximately 1,000 children per year between the ages of 2-17 years. To date, their facility located at 525 W. Wisconsin in Edinburg, Texas has served approximately 14,000 children. Their first year 241 children passed through their doors.<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">We were greeted by Victoria Medina, Executive Director and Kristy Hallock Meyer, Community Outreach coordinator. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCje-3BgAvOvQxzRF6RgqEz3Dp5iCleAb2BkBS83XDg95ci63EeJ9Ul0geQDktsaXe0nhf0h4XG4u11t-OMUDsCNAYO7xXbXY1xJq0vbjcXaU2BXfBACWiElTpW7Lf-U7Z6XuRFgiPkFo/s1600/Estrellas+House6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCje-3BgAvOvQxzRF6RgqEz3Dp5iCleAb2BkBS83XDg95ci63EeJ9Ul0geQDktsaXe0nhf0h4XG4u11t-OMUDsCNAYO7xXbXY1xJq0vbjcXaU2BXfBACWiElTpW7Lf-U7Z6XuRFgiPkFo/s1600/Estrellas+House6.jpg" height="208" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Left to right: Diana Garza, Victoria Medina, Ralph Garza, and Kristy Meyer</td></tr>
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Kristy graciously gave a tour of their facility whose entrance belies the facilities size. This June, Estrella's House will celebrate their fourteenth year and will be holding their annual fundraiser February 22, 2014.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The poster somehow didn't show up on my blog. You can visit Estrella's House on Facebook.<br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj3pKXVplChJFK3wV-HnocvqGLm5oF_M9wtapw9123pG9KxtMC7LWTcMS_oMobkLZoaeCU9sSUbZ2MZZj8C1ZxpNdu17o9vIutLlqN73y8JhB5AmKBiIFErZJLM6DiyS1TJWrQ4-xslbw/s1600/Estrellas+House+008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj3pKXVplChJFK3wV-HnocvqGLm5oF_M9wtapw9123pG9KxtMC7LWTcMS_oMobkLZoaeCU9sSUbZ2MZZj8C1ZxpNdu17o9vIutLlqN73y8JhB5AmKBiIFErZJLM6DiyS1TJWrQ4-xslbw/s1600/Estrellas+House+008.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ralph Garza, Little Estrella's New painting, Kristy Meyer<br />
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If you or your employers and/or organization is looking for a good cause to support in 2014, think about supporting Estrella's House. They're in need of cash donations but you can help also by supplying them with donations from the list below:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd8LnvomO0JZZXN_5QqFlxPoNL-L56nGvTtEUMZjqoEZ0-WCAnZPnZwz0BVRYSvUblNFUYgjqxVYwL-Y0CjLdpYHS-NSIejHmTOdQ64kRAZd4-yVxFQ-7JyoW2yAXE_kyBjDmUxS_Xy3o/s1600/scan0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd8LnvomO0JZZXN_5QqFlxPoNL-L56nGvTtEUMZjqoEZ0-WCAnZPnZwz0BVRYSvUblNFUYgjqxVYwL-Y0CjLdpYHS-NSIejHmTOdQ64kRAZd4-yVxFQ-7JyoW2yAXE_kyBjDmUxS_Xy3o/s1600/scan0001.jpg" height="400" width="313" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The tiny hands in the photo are hand prints with names of the children served at Estrella's House that you'll<br />
find throughout the building. It's something Estrella's House does to make the children feel welcomed and not feel like they're alone.<br />
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Note: The Telecom Pioneers, are a <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; line-height: 16.1200008392334px; text-align: left;">Volunteer organization and service club made up of US and Canadian telecommunications industry employees and retirees.</span> <br /><br /></span></td></tr>
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Dianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12368376880999951356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2042152062866520084.post-87966361385946580042014-01-01T14:26:00.000-08:002014-01-01T14:26:00.564-08:00Two great quotes for 2014“The past is already gone, the future is not yet here. There's only one moment for you to live, and that is the present moment”<br />
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― Gautama<br />
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"Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."</div>
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<a href="http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/a/albert_einstein.html" style="color: rgb(0, 51, 153) !important; text-decoration: none;">Albert Einstein</a></div>
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Yep, 2014 is here! <br />
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People were popping what sounded like bombs in our neighborhood last night. We were over at our forever bff's home, Dee Dee and Leo Rodriguez just down the street from our home. Just minutes after midnight the lights went out. We all laughed except for the little ones. Hearing the loud kabooms and sitting in the dark was scary. Dee Dee and her daughter, Laura, lit candles throughout the house. I called AEP and was put on hold but a recording said lights were out in Laredo, Mission and in our area in McAllen. What?!! Welcome, 2014!!!<br />
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But it didn't phase us. The candles gave the house a glow - gave me the warm fuzzies. Being together in the "glow"...was priceless!<br />
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I was kept on hold the whole time and never got to speak to anyone before the lights came on so Ralph hurried home to check on the pups - we couldn't get inside because with the lights out the garage door does not work. I left my purse at home and our house keys were in my purse. Peggy Sue and Sugar were probably terrified because they hate firecrackers and this year's firecrackers were especially loud. We laughed at ourselves because we normally take the keys to the back entrance for instances such as this one but this time we did not prepare. Ralph found Peggy Sue and Sugar scared but safe, located the keys and came back.<br />
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We continued celebrating. And that's when I realized - this was <i>different</i>...<br />
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Any other time, I would have been hysterical knowing that my pups were freaking out and I couldn't get to them. For some reason I wasn't. I knew they were in a safe place, alone, but safe. Another time and place, I would have rushed home as soon as the lights came on. I didn't.<br />
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Earlier in the day I commented to Ralph that in spite of the fact that we want to change, create change, or encourage change...we still do the same thing. <br />
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"Isn't that "<i>insanity," </i>I asked him. "doing the same thing over and over again and expecting change?"<br />
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"So what do you think?" I said. "Changing just a word, a gesture,...a thought - things we do without even thinking, Think it can make a difference? Let's try it."<br />
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Normally, Ralph will just nod and agree or disagree, depending on what we're discussing...this time he spoke and agreed. <br />
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That was <i>different</i>.<br />
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But in truth, I didn't notice it...but I think the universe did.<br />
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And the changes continued into the evening, at first they were subtle then the differences became distinct. I was <i>present</i> to the moment. I felt <i>differen</i>t.<br />
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Oh, JOY!!!! <br />
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Ralph and I celebrated by going to mass this morning. <i>Different</i> from the last few years..<br />
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I understood Father Louie - <i>Different!</i><br />
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Prayed for all our family and friends - before recalling was for immediate family and friends - with so many family and friends on Facebook I am more involved with so many - we're more <i>present</i> to each other than ever before. <i>Different!</i><br />
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<i>I like this!</i><br />
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I noticed that I write mostly about the past or things I have experienced...I have difficulty writing about something that hasn't happened, or making it up. And it hasn't been easy lately but I'm going to try. I think its because I believed that putting things in writing was just as serious as the spoken word and that kind of power is scary. The universe is listening...<br />
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But I am not alone - I never was - it just felt that way....<i>different</i>. <br />
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Am I making sense?<br />
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I'm done...for today, anyway. I'm going to stop now and enjoy the marvelous dinner my hubby is making for us. I am enjoying my day...<i>present</i>...<br />
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2014 is off to a great start...<i>PRESENT!!!</i><br />
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<i>And THAT is a great GIFT!</i><br />
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<br />Dianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12368376880999951356noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2042152062866520084.post-45048739235116829372013-12-31T01:36:00.001-08:002013-12-31T01:36:11.883-08:00Sayng goodbye to Sarita and 2013<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">Yesterday, I said goodbye to a very gentle and beautiful lady, Sarita Balli Hinojosa. I met Sarita through her husband, Joe, when Ralph and I joined the small church community at Holy Spirit Church over 15 years ago. Back then Sarita would stand quietly by her husband and listen to our plans to bring in more participants. Later, Sarita's and my conversations were about our daughters...my Diana and Adri at McHi and her Celestina at Nikki Rowe. Diana was a Stepper captain, Adri in band, and Celestina was in the Rowe Band. Both Diana and Celestina would be graduating in the year 2000. We experienced their Confirmation together and shared a love for crafts. We would see each other at Holy Spirit Catholic Church until 2006 when there was a big rift in our church and it seemed like we were split in half. Sarita and Joe continued at Holy Spirit. Ralph and I started church hopping.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">Somewhere in there, Sarita was diagnosed with breast cancer. I didn't know the severity of her illness during that time because despite her struggles, Sarita blossomed. Shy, gentle Sarita found her voice and her faith strengthened so that you never saw her sad. Quite the opposite, there was a peace about her...she knew something so many of us continue to seek.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">This year, months would go by and no Sarita...Joe, yes, usually at our local H.E.B. where he would catch us up on Sarita's progress. Joe was always full of hope...Sarita WAS </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">hope</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">Ralph and I got into the habit of going to Adoration on Fridays. It was on those days Sarita would be heaviest on my mind. I would offer a rosary for her. But in September my own struggles were overwhelming me and I would think of Sarita and tell myself how Sarita would have a smile for everyone and anyone. My burden was nothing compared to what she was experiencing. She had gone into the hospital with a set back but was released after a while. I wondered how she was doing and the next day at Saturday mass, I saw Sarita and Joe. Sarita had good news...the doctors saw signs of remission. I was so thankful, so grateful to God for the good news...but it was short lived. A few weeks later in October, they told her she had only weeks to live.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">I would have crumbled...but not Sarita, "it's in God's hand, and His </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">will</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"> will be done." She continued her battle and I into my silence. There were no words I could say, nothing would come out. I admired her strength, her faith, and her love of the Lord. I could only smile an affirm that she was in God's arms. She made it through Thanksgiving. I was glad there was no news. She made it through Christmas... What did doctor's know, I thought.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">On Friday, December 27th, Sarita took her last breath and joined our Lord. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">This has been so devastating to me on so many levels. At her services were all the wonderful faces of my community family that was once so vibrant, so alive. Father Jerry - how I miss Father Jerry - was there to lead her mass. It reminded me of a painful, yet glorious time of my life when my small church faith community embraced me and saved my wretched soul. Crawford Higgins, now a deacon, was there yesterday and today, Manuel Mata, my teacher and friend, Olga Serna, who lifted me up when no one could, familiar faces, pillars of my church. My heart broke in a million pieces at Sarita's service. I couldn't stop the tears. But at the end, there was peace.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">You see, one year ago today, I lay dying. I felt my life slipping away and I spent New Year's Eve in the Emergency Room then transported to ICU at McAllen Regional. I spent New Year's Day and next two days trying to make it back. I remember that night, my sister, Velma, telling me I was NOT going to die, she wouldn't let me. But I remember wanting to. Everything around me was painful, television, the news, betrayal, people suffering, people angry, people hungry, the thought of food and the smell of food making me sick, even hearing music hurt. I felt this overwhelming evil, I was drowning in fear - it was terrifying.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">One whole year...struggling, not to make it back, but to be in a better place. And here I was, back at Holy Spirit Parish Hall. It was good seeing my friends - hearing their stories, sharing their faith...I felt home again. I laughed at myself. That's what Sarita would say..."Live to the fullest, love much, and laugh often..." </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">In September, Ralph and I cut off cable TV, the newspaper, my only indulgence, Facebook, I can turn off when it gets to be too much.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">I don't know why I came to be in this place. Maybe it was the accident two years ago that took so much from me. My freedom to move, to dance, to walk freely without pain or maybe because I allowed individuals to take my peace, my inner peace.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">Nah...Sarita's journey reminded me it's still here. Sometimes when I ask God to heal me...the pain ceases for a while and I think it's gone and I thank him. But then I'll move suddenly throwing off my balance and my pain returns... But I know others have it worse than I do and they continue to live to the fullest, love much and laugh often. - tell it like it is, Sarita!</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">Rest in peace, my dear, sweet friend...</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;" />Dianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12368376880999951356noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2042152062866520084.post-18848327635504163312013-06-06T12:21:00.001-07:002013-06-06T12:21:51.179-07:00Punkin is in a better place...<br />
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Punkin</div>
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June 4, 2009 - June 5, 2013</div>
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Punkin is the sweetest little girl you could ever want. She's a lap dog...as soon as you'd sit down, she'd be on your lap. She loves chasing a laser light and fetching her ball. Everyday has been filled with tears watching our baby suffer. She has such a will to live...it's been hard.<br />
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Yesterday, we had to make the hardest decision we've ever had to make... She had a large mass that was not allowing her to keep food down - it got so bad she wasn't able to keep water down, either. But her little body would keep going. Every morning in spite of her pain she'd be excited to go for our walks...she'd be so sick but she wanted to be with us. In the evening as soon as it was getting dark she would stand waiting for the laser game to begin. <br />
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My little Punkin, our hearts are breaking. We couldn't see you suffer anymore. We hope you're at peace, running with Sandy and Keasha. I love you, my little mighty Punkin. When my day comes...I hope you'll be waiting for me at the rainbow bridge...because I'll be looking for you.<br />
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I've had been taking Punkin to the vets regularly. Sometimes they've had to do tests so we would have to wait around in the waiting room. On the south side of the wall, there is a collage of photographs of all the different pets they've taken care of over the years.Well, while admiring all the photos, I found this photograph...I believe it's their parents...I know many of you have been with me since I acquired my puppies, Punkin, Peggy Sue, Sugar and Gracie Lou. Punkin's and Peggy Sue's parents were pedigree dogs, the mother was a Jack Russell and the father was a Fox Terrier. Combining two pedigrees of different breeds produces what is called a hybrid. Punkin and Peggy Sue are hybrids. We used to see their parents in their back yard whenever we'd walk them on the back trail in our neighborhood. It's been a while since we've seen them. We've had Punkin and Peggy Sue since they were six weeks old and they turned four years old June 4th. It's been over a year that we hadn't seen their parents.I often regretted not photographing their parents. They were beautiful dogs. I believe these were their parents.<br />
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This is Jack and Lili..<br />
This is Ralph holding Peggy Sue and Punkin when we first got them.<br />
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See the resemblance?...to Lili and Jack...<br />
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This is Peggy Sue, Punkin....and Sugar all grown up.<br />
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I don't want to jump to the conclusion that they're no longer with us because we haven't seen them in their home's back yard. But if they're not...I'd like to think they welcomed Punkin if animals have the same experience as humans. I hope so...I don't want Punkin to be alone. <br />
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My little Punkin...you were such a comfort to me and a great companion, I miss you so, so much.<br />
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<br />Dianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12368376880999951356noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2042152062866520084.post-68186550135275778332013-05-15T11:17:00.000-07:002013-05-15T11:17:12.606-07:00I love our dogs...It's been a while since I blogged. Truth be told...I find blogging tedious. Not because I don't enjoy the writing...it's posting it correctly, deciphering the lingo - that's tedious to me. It totally turns me off to blogging but I do miss it, so here I am.<br />
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Most recently Punkin, our little fox terrier, has been very ill. It's been difficult watching her suffer. But like any suffering, it makes you reflect. My reflection took me back to the days when we first were blessed with our tiny companions. Most friends know this story but just to refresh everyone's memory, this is how it began: <br />
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It all started with a conversation I had with my neighbor across the street. Sandra D, our chow chow, was getting old and I commented to my neighbor that I'd like to possibly adopt two puppies when the time comes since I noticed Sandra D was alone with no one to play with. In actuality, I think Sandy preferred it that way; she had us all to herself.<br />
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It was just a conversation, but on my brother's birthday, May 3, 2009, while celebrating his birthday at our home, my neighbor shows up with two little black Boston Terrier/Chihuahua mix puppies, now known as Le Suge Avery, (Sugar) and Gracie Lou Freebush (Gracie Lou). Ralph and I decided to give it a try...they were so cute. Sugar looked like a miniature lab and Gracie Lou looked like a little graceful gazelle. The only ones that weren't thrilled were my mom and Sandra D.<br />
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It wasn't long (less than two months) that our neighbor tells us about their friend who had two puppies that he couldn't find a home for. Could I take one, he asked. They were Jack Russel/Fox terrier hybrids. Call me crazy but I love Jack Russel dogs. It wouldn't hurt to go look, I thought.<br />
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Well, our look see did hurt. They were only six weeks old. The tinier puppy looked just like the dad, a fox terrier and the other one looked like the mom, a Jack Russel. Here's the thing...the owner would dump a can of dog food in a bowl and it was a free for all between the two tiny puppies and their parents. Guess who would win...and guess who was getting beat up? Ralph thought we could take the smaller puppy. I looked at Ralph and asked him if he could find it in his heart to take the two...I couldn't leave the Jack Russel behind, she already had a big gash on her neck.<br />
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Well, if you know Ralph, you know he couldn't leave one behind. Welcome, Punkin and Peggy Sue! So next thing we now have five dogs. Yes, it was a mad house but at the time Diana and Adri were still home and we couldn't have potty trained nor crate trained them without their help.<br />
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No one will understand, except another pet lover, what this amazing animals do for our soul. They wrap around your heart like a warm blanket and kick start your heart with every lick and wag of their tail.<br />
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In the beginning of 2010, we'd walk Sugar and Gracie Lou down the 2nd street trail. Since Punkin and Peggy Sue were too tiny, I'd carry them in a big green gingham baby bag. We'd walk 3-4 miles a day. Before you knew it, I was losing weight, something I'd been unsuccessful at for a while. What a surprise!<br />
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A few months into 2010, both my daughters, Diana and Adri, move out. Adri took Gracie Lou with her and is now my daughter's beloved companion.<br />
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Life progressed and over the next two years, they have been our constants. On April Fool's day, 2012, one day after the hail storm of the century, our beloved Sandra D passed on and crossed the Rainbow Bridge. We miss her dearly.<br />
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In October, 2012, Punkin fell ill and we found out it was an unusual parasite. Sugar and Peggy Sue were unaffected. It took three months for Punkin to recover. Unfortunately, this parasite caused cells to develop a mass of some type and about six weeks ago, Punkin began getting sick, vomiting daily. The vet gave her every test imaginable, confirmed the mass but we'd have to take her to a specialist animal hospital in San Antonio for further testing. He told us more than likely the mass was malignant. Sadly, economically we're unable to handle the cost.<br />
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She was so sick, we had scheduled to put her down on May 1st but couldn't do it. For ten days we made every effort to make her as comfortable as possible. We kept praying hoping for the best but still no improvement. By May 10th, we scheduled her again. This time her original vet, Dr. Roge', saw her. We asked what else could we do. We didn't want to put her down. All I know, is God must have been guiding this young veterinarian because the medications she chose and the care she gave has made a big difference in Punkin's quality of life. The mass is not gone bu she's doing so much better. God answered our prayers. I'm still pray for a miracle for the mass to disappear.<br />
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I'm going to do a little back tracking. Ralph and I were in a hit and run accident back in August, 2011. It injured my feet and back and we went through extensive therapy for about eight months. In those long eight months, I gained all the weight and then some that I had lost when we initially began walking. Unable to regain my physical strength in my feet our walks had discontinued. With the help of an oscillating exercise machine, I've recovered a lot of my mobility but hadn't gone back to our walking.<br />
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In January, 2012, I almost lost my life from a reaction to medication I was taking for what I thought was the flu...it scared me so much, it prompted me to make many changes. One of them was getting back to walking our pets so I pushed myself to walk despite my injury. Now, as long as I walk on a level surface, I can walk daily and our puppies need to be walked. I went from 15 minutes on the treadmill to 1 hour daily and we walk our dogs every morning on the Bicentennial trail. I've lost over 50 lbs. and feel so much better.<br />
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While it has been a combination of many things that have brought me to where I am today, looking back I realize our decision to save the two sets of puppies have been a Godsend. I am so blessed to be able to walk them everyday and a blessing to care for them. We may have thought we saved them...but I know they saved me. <br />
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Later...a picture of who I think are Peggy Sue's and Punkin's parents...found it on the wall of our pets animal care clinic...wait and see!!!<br />
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Dianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12368376880999951356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2042152062866520084.post-58306824052252593962012-10-18T11:49:00.001-07:002012-12-03T13:15:46.632-08:00and the world turns...When I first moved back to the Valley, I had the privilege and pleasure of attending Holy Spirit Catholic Church. That was back in June, 1994. I hadn't yet met Father Jerry Frank but he was definitely in my future. I have always had premonitions even lucid dreams of my future and Father Jerry came to me in a dream. In the dream, a man, a new incoming priest would be activating our community. He and I wouldn't always see eye to eye but he was going to be a great teacher...my teacher.<br />
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At the time, it was exactly what I was looking for. We had lived in Denver, Colorado, a progressive state where GREEN was being practiced long before it became an<i> in </i>word. We moved back to Texas taking a slow 10-year tour through Houston, Longview, and finally landing in San Antonio and nowhere was Green being practiced in the state of Texas. Now, we were headed for the Rio Grande Valley...????<br />
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I wasn't just looking for a environmental conscience community, I was looking for a well-rounded civic-minded conscientious community. So we landed in McAllen. Ralph and I dove in and became active in our daughter's schools, church and our community. <br />
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Father Jerry arrives.<br />
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Father Jerry introduced our church community to small church faith communities (CCFC). We would have small groups of about 5 -15 people meet in an individual's home. We would all take turns leading; one facilitator to keep us on task. We prayed, cried, and laughed, sharing our joys and our pains. It was a rough time and it was my small church community who saw me through so many of those low spots, kind of the way my Facebook community does for us now...at least <b>my</b> <i>small </i>FB family.<br />
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Many thought Father Jerry was way too political. I have to admit, his <i>politics</i> did make me uncomfortable. Yeah, he really was an advocate for voting in our community. Let's face it, voting is not popular. Back in 1994, out of the 160,059 registered, only 60,433 voted. He said with our vote we could change anything. Well, we hear that all the time...but do we <i>know</i> it.<br />
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Father Jerry was a man of action. He chose facilitators for CCFCs' and we began training. We learned about our one voice, one vote and how we could move mountains, literally. He asked us to write our dreams for our community. From that list we deleted, and tweaked the list until everyone was in agreement. The list was taken to homes, community and then our city. The Rio Grande Valley Interfaith joined or we joined them...(they made me uncomfortable). Before you knew it, everything on our agenda went through the process and it was put to a vote and well, what you see in McAllen is the result of that effort. And when the city almost took our money marked for our libraries for the north and south and wanted to give it to STC, well,...Father Jerry showed us how to make the powers that be stick to what we voted for.<br />
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He even thought about our church staff who work years and have nothing in the form of retirement to show for it. He unionized the church staff. That's where the church finally drew the line and stepped in, sent Father Jerry away to another parish and fired four dedicated employees. The rest is history.<br />
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He thought of the humblest of servants and stood up for us...the middle class of our church. The change that followed his departure almost ended our beautiful church community. <br />
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(<i>Celia Munoz Bazziomani, Mission High School, Class of 1970 alumni, began fundraising for a orphanage called Casa Amparo in Reynosa during this time. It was through Holy Spirit Catholic Church that she connected Casa Amparo with our community. Celia would raise monies for the orphanage through her summer BBQ and Rummage Sale held in September along with help from our church and community. When Father Jerry was removed...Casa Amparo also suffered.)</i><br />
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I think back to that time. President Clinton was president. Our church kept telling us that it was a Jubilee year. Well, Jubilee means total celebration in my eyes...and it was. I really had <i>jubilee</i> in my heart. But when Father Jerry was gone, it wasn't a jubilee, anymore. <br />
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I ask myself, "Did I support Father Jerry? Did I help him? Did I criticize him? Did I thank him? Most importantly, did I <i>pray</i> for him? Did I pray for us?<br />
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After much thought, I came to the conclusion that I must not have prayed...<br />
Obviously, I didn't....they took him away from Holy Spirit.<br />
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<i>Thank you, Father Jerry Frank...</i><br />
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<br />Dianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12368376880999951356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2042152062866520084.post-9998439699548614742012-09-26T10:11:00.001-07:002012-09-26T10:20:13.712-07:00Days gone by...<br />
One of my fondest memories growing up in Mission was driving through the Shary Estate in Sharyland, Texas. Located northeast of Mission on Shary Road off Buddy Owens, John Harry Shary built the Shary Estate for his family. Shary brought his family from Nebraska and settled into Valley life while he blazed a trail through the citrus industry. He had one daughter, Marialice, who married Texas Govenor Allan Shivers.<br />
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Growing up, my dad worked for Allen Brun in Edinburg and sometimes we'd go pick him up. My mom would take Shary Road. At night it looked lonely and ominous and I loved that drive. One Easter, our favorite spot was taken so Daddy had to drive around to find a spot. We found ourselves driving down Shary Road. It was the first time we had a real close up view in the daytime and what a sight it was!<br />
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Back then the orchards surrounding the estate had the tree tops completely leveled with each other. I don't know who or how they did it but the tops were level and stood in perfectly straight diagonal lines. Just before you reached the estate on the right (West) side was a beautiful garden with stairs leading down into a wide ravine-like area filled from side to side with beautiful manicured grass. Palm trees and red bouganvillas accented small areas. As you drove by, the sudden drop on the right was so unexpected that by the time you reacted to the sight, you missed a quite different contrast on the left which was that of an enormous open pool surrounded by palm trees lined up straight up and down the sides. It was a humongous reflection pool.<br />
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I remember that "drop" was also used for a panoramic photo taken of all the representatives of the different organizations and clubs at Mission High School. And my most memorable person...Robbie Sue Maloy, pictured with her drum major uniform was among the group of high school students. <a href="http://www.classmates.com/yearbooks/Mission-High-School/183830?dsource=pub%7C5857%7Cpromotion%7C2068%7C13156%7C8&page=2">Mission High School Class of 1966 Yearbook photo</a> was awesome! I couldn't wait to be in high school. <br />
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A little trivia to add to my memory; Linda Garza, Cynthia Garza Weber's sister, is also in the photo. I hope I remembered this correctly. Cynthia's dad, Eddie Garza, who graduated valedictorian of his class (Sharyland High School), worked for Shary Estates until his retirement. I was always fascinated by Cynthia's knowledge of the building...there's even a bowling alley. To this day I've never been inside.<br />
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Shary Estates was also a part of our high school "Chicken!" dare games. Rumors were that there was a ghost on the premises at night especially around the chapel where supposedly Shary folks were interned. Turned out it was the night watchman who took care of the premises...but I found out John Harry Shary was buried in the small chapel! <br />
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Well, it's been some time now but if you haven't heard or read the news...UTPA couldn't pay for the upkeep and sold the Shary Estate. The Monitor's <a href="http://www.themonitor.com/articles/shary-59881-former-turn.html">Shary Estate Sold!</a> tells of the new owner from Laredo, who plans to turn it into a unique events center of sorts. <br />
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I'm looking forward to seeing what they do. Maybe they'll restore the grounds to their former glory. Maybe guided tours...I'd take it! <br />
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I feel about the Shary Estate the same way I feel about driving by Crystal Waters in Mission...I know the swimming pool is gone but in my eyes, I still see it in all its glory every time I drive by.<br />
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(And, no, I'm not delusional...lol!)<br />
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<br />Dianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12368376880999951356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2042152062866520084.post-79315929576302642552012-09-24T21:59:00.002-07:002012-09-25T08:16:50.929-07:00And then it happened, I fell in love with football, again!!I'm talking about loving football. I can't believe it!<br />
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I first enjoyed football when I was a young girl going to the high school football games with the band. Mission Eagles were the bomb! Now, that was FUN!! I actually watched and learned something.<br />
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Then there were was football on Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's...year after year.<br />
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In the beginning, it was okay. After a while, it was one too many football games. I don't care how much in love I was...enough was enough. Luckily, our family was very supportive (despite brother-in-law complaints) and football was set aside for the family.<br />
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As time went along, families divided into their own little family group celebrations and established their own holiday routines. <br />
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In this family, the girls ruled...but Ralph found a kindred spirit in Sam, our youngest. Samantha really learned the game. She'd always asked questions. By the time she was in high school, she had her dad eating out of her hand and he had a football buddy for life. <br />
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Well, little girls grow up and move away and now she shares her own team, the Dallas Cowboys with her husband, Rory.<br />
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Then there was the empty nest and ESPN.<br />
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There was football on Sunday, Monday, Wednesday,Thursday, Saturday...and repeats on Tuesday and Friday. I was up to my eyeballs in football!!<br />
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Then something happened last year. Its called Red Zone on Dish Network. It shows every possible great play or touchdown as it occurs throughout the day on Sunday. I was fascinated. Don't misunderstand me. I do like football but just not to watch it every downtime minute with the channels being switched every other minute. But watching Red Zone was a totally different experience. It was watching the best of the best on multi-screens, touchdowns...and not having to listen to those brainless announcers that are trying to relive out their past behind the microphone. Yes, announcers are a bigger pet peeve of mine so is my husband's constantly switching channels.<br />
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So this year, we decided to give it a try. For $1.12 each Sunday for the entire football season, my husband (and I) has six hours straight of nothing but football, football, football! Me? I love good football. I rather watch college football but good, professional, football...priceless! And I found my football groove again (and no more channel surfing!!!)<br />
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And even though Dallas is my favorite team - I'm waiting for the Cowboys to back their quarterback!!!...I may watch the Washington Redskins (whom I totally dislike!) but I will watch them ONLY because Robert Griffin III is quarterbacking. <br />
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Hey! Good football is good football!<br />
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<br />Dianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12368376880999951356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2042152062866520084.post-17752310362226811062012-09-20T12:58:00.000-07:002012-09-20T14:24:52.479-07:00Speaking of reunions...Save the date: November 8, 2012<br />
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In case you didn't know, November 8, 2012 is Mission High School's Homecoming Game. It falls on a Thursday. I have reserved both November 8th and 9th at Justice Hall. We're looking to attend the game on Thursday, with our Homecoming Dance at Justice Hall on Friday.<br />
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Yes, you saw it here...Homecoming Dance! <br />
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While my plans may seem ambitious, there is purpose behind it. <br />
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Most of us have turned 60, 61, 62.... Our last reunion, June 23, 2012 was very poignant. We had several faces that had never attended our reunion before: Hilda Pinon, Alma Montalvo Sanchez, Henry Fankhauser, and Santos Estrada. Armando Cespedes brought his wife for the first time, too. For me, Henry's visit was especially heartfelt. I had been trying for years, leaving message after message on his answering machine. Luckily, Ramiro Rodriguez (Hug!) was able to persuade him to attend. This in spite of the fact that he had just lost his son, Joseph Henry Fankhauser, to the Afghanistan war in April of this year. <br />
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I don't think any of us imagined half of the things we have gone through and certainly not the impacts that those events have had in our hearts and minds.<br />
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Every time we reunite, I see the triumphs of the heart. We share our pain and definitely our physical challenges which are many but there is so much laughter, too. So many have lost spouses, parents and friends, losses that stretched hearts to the breaking point. We sympathize with those whose footsteps are following behind us. No one prepares you for these journeys.<br />
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But our reunions bring back our youth to our hearts to remind us we have so much to celebrate, so much to fight for and that YOU ARE NOT ALONE!<br />
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This last reunion reminded me and briefly stirred me out of my self-imposed prison. I say briefly because it wasn't long after the reunion that I returned back to my hole. I reemerged in early September.<br />
<br />
Then on September 11th, despite the date having an already haunting reputation, a new memory has been attached to it.<br />
<br />
Our last reunion is the last time we will see this one classmate. He made the effort to attend other reunions, despite the fact that he was very ill. He attended this reunion in a wheelchair. But make no mistake, the young man we knew in high school was smiling big, from the heart. In his eyes you saw the joy he felt at seeing everyone that attended. It was grand seeing him. Rafael "Fio" Ojeda was his constant companion, taking him here and there, visiting friends, and bringing him to our reunions. Fio was his ride as we would say.<br />
<br />
On September 11, 2012, Hernan Garza went to meet his maker.<br />
<br />
* * *<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
So I say to you:<br />
"I am linked to you in much bigger ways.<br />
Ways I can't explain.<br />
Lines I can't describe.<br />
Your string crossed mine in the universe<br />
and forever became entangled<br />
together."<br />
- Diana Corpus Garza<br />
(c) 2007<br />
<br />
Consider attending this next one. And you don't have to be from our Class of 1970 either...<br />
<br />
<br />
* * *<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
See <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/missionhighschoolclassof-1970com/153715497036">https://www.facebook.com/pages/missionhighschoolclassof-1970com/153715497036</a> for more information on any Mission High School Class of 1970 news.<br />
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Dianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12368376880999951356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2042152062866520084.post-24408488622057607382012-09-19T16:30:00.000-07:002012-09-19T19:01:46.483-07:00Backing up my computer...I LOVE reunions.<br />
<br />
All kinds of reunions. School reunions, family reunions, friend reunions...you name it - I'll make it!<br />
<br />
You can imagine my data records.<br />
<br />
Well, they're gone!<br />
<br />
I was in the process of backing up my computer (my flash drive wasn't big enough) and I was unable to finish the job. In doing so, my computer closed down to update. It never came back. Lost were all my high school classmate data, my family data, friends, every contact I have made since 2007 and all my college essays, short stories and poems I've written for the last 15 years. Poof! All gone!<br />
<br />
Oh, did I tell you all the photos....?<br />
<br />
Surprisingly enough...it's okay. <br />
<br />
Okay, on many levels. I hesitated submitting any of my writings for publishing. Why? Fear. Fear of rejection, fear of offending, fear of writing badly. Needless to say, my desire to write is still here. That's why it's okay. My passion is real. So if I didn't publish anything that's okay...there's more where that came from. <br />
<br />
This is where I know God is real and working in my life. <br />
<br />
So my computer is out. Steps in: Nilda, a fellow Diva and her family of computer wizards. They weren't able to retrieve my information but I now have a computer up and running. I'm having to restock it with all the software that's somewhere in my garage/home. This will take some time.<br />
<br />
But that is one thing I am blessed with...TIME!!<br />
<br />
And then...the piece of resistance...for our anniversary, my husband buys me a 23" all in one touch computer. I'm on it now. <br />
<br />
It gets better...<br />
<br />
A couple of days after Nilda brought my old computer back, my computer went out again so I called AT&T. They suggested I take the router to their center to have it tested. Well, my husband, a former AT&T employee requested the router be replaced, at which they balked but we took the router to get tested. We forgot the power cord. Went back, again. It was the power cord. A power cord was $10.<br />
<br />
Seven days later, we receive a brand new router. Of course we call and AT&T decided to replace our router. And it gets better. While installing the new router and following their implicit directions, I discovered that one phone in the household was NEVER hooked up properly (Nilda and I were comparing services and were complaining that AT&T was messing up big time.). The computer picked up the error connection immediately when we began installing the new router! This time everything was installed properly.<br />
<br />
My computerS are zipping everywhere in record time.<br />
<br />
Sigh! Reunions? Piece of cake!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Dianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12368376880999951356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2042152062866520084.post-5129449319266248522012-09-19T15:06:00.000-07:002012-09-19T18:54:08.040-07:00Rise above...Celebrate everyday!<br />
<br />
These last fourteen months have been rough, to say the least. But even these obvious adversities that countless families and friends go through every day can only take their toll if you let them. No one will understand this but this last year I gained a brother and a sister.<br />
<br />
I gained a brother who I can count on, go to just to laugh and sometimes cry. I gained the brother that protected me growing up whose love and acceptance I cherished above all. I know he isn't perfect but it's not his perfection I am seeking but rather his tenderness when no one is looking, his heart of gold when he fought for me and I felt all alone. A brother's love cannot replace a father's love and I miss my father dearly, but he is what is closest to my dad now and it fills the empty space.<br />
<br />
My sister...my sister. I am the mother who raised you. I am the mother who made the birthday parties to celebrate your birthdays, and then cleaned up any sign of a celebration so our parents wouldn't find out. I am the mother who took the spankings because I couldn't stop you from leaving and punished you by locking you out. Now I have a sister, one that understands, who knows the depth of my pain and does not belittle it, who treasurers our children unconditionally. She fills my life with laughter as loud as thunder, and sweetness with her smile. My days would be incomplete without her in my life.<br />
<br />
Somehow, we've made it - adversities and all. But that's why Jesus died for us...so we could rise above it all. Thank you, thank you, from the bottom of my soul.<br />
<br />
I found this poem on the internet signed by the enternal_optimist and it said it better than I ever could.<br />
<br />
There are more days of sunshine, than darkness...time only makes it better.<br />
<br />
<br />
****<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
To Rise Above<br />
by enternal_optimist<br />
<br />
<br />
As a stone tumbled in coarse reality,<br />
constantly worn as it is refined,<br />
adversity, its true beauty shows.<br />
<br />
So it is by trial we find,<br />
all that we are capable of, the strength that lies beneath.<br />
<br />
We are not defined by our trials,<br />
but by how we face them.<br />
<br />
We are all afraid; bravery is a choice,<br />
that though you may lose, you will never be defeated.<br />
<br />
Who among us does not have flaws?<br />
Who does not bear scars?<br />
Each of our journey's unique,<br />
Our adversities leave upon us lasting marks,<br />
They show us all that we have overcome.<br />
<br />
Life; a constant struggle,<br />
and by choosing not to give in, we rise above.<br />
<br />
<br />Dianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12368376880999951356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2042152062866520084.post-36660153096643859892012-04-04T15:58:00.001-07:002012-04-04T16:19:27.899-07:00Baylor wins Nationals 40-0 and Bell's palsy March Madness got my attention last year when A&M beat Notre Dame...I was hooked. But nothing like watching Brittany Griner, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brittney_Griner">(More on Brittany Griner)</a> and this years Baylor Bear's Women's Basketball team. To use an over used phrase...they were awesome! And 40-0 - SPECTACULAR!!!! This is like Secretariat's record. You know the racehorse that won the Triple Crown? No one has ever been able to beat his record, so it is with Baylor. Never again will another team take it to 40-0, well, it's gonna be a long, long time. There have been plenty of 39-0 records but none reached the record of 40 wins and no losses.<br />
<br />
I was so nervous watching the game. But having watched Odyssey Sims lead her team in other games calmed me. I knew this little sophomore, who showed the maturity, composure, and knowledge of her fellow players early on would not fail her team. After all she had brought their team to the 39-0 record. She took it to the end fouling out at the very last...but long enough to put her team almost 20+ points ahead. And then there was Brittany Griner, taking her cues, delivering, executing, and dominating!!!<br />
<br />
Notre Dame was a power house but not compared to Baylor. Baylor had poise, didn't lose their kool, kept it together all the way down the line. <br />
<br />
And there was one more BIG factor, their coach Kim Mulkey. Coach Muley was struck with Bell's Palsy a few days before the Final Four. Believe me it can be painful and stress can be one of the culprit. There was no doubt she had plenty of stress. But she had started preparing them down the winning trail from the time Griner was a freshman. The only thing that Bell's Palsy stopped Coach Mulkey from doing was smiling.<br />
<br />
Very little is known about Bell's Palsy. It's named after its discoverer, Sir Charles Bell, a Scottish surgeon.<br />
<a href="http://www.bellspalsy.org.uk/charlesbell.htm">For more info on Dr. Bell and Bell's Palsy...</a><br />
<br />
I felt for her because I have and continue to have occasional ticks that remind me of the time when I had Bell's Palsy.<br />
<br />
Back in 1986, when I was diagnosed with Bell's Palsy. I had just given birth to my third baby, Samantha. It was so severe they thought I was having a stroke. It mimics a stroke because you lose all feeling on the affected side. While it begins in the facial area, mine affected me all the way down to my left leg. I was told there were several factors that could have caused my Bell's Palsy.<br />
<br />
* Pregnancy sometimes can be a factor (I was)<br />
* Ear infection - (I did have a slight ear infection, unbeknownst to me)<br />
* Going from hot to extreme cold. (The delivery room was freezing!!)<br />
* Stress (Samantha was 15 days late and Ralph's ex-wife was taking him to court for the umpteenth time on the day she was born.)<br />
<br />
I have two other old wives tales. You might have heard of them.<br />
<br />
* Never sleep under a fan with wet hair<br />
* Especially in this Texas heat, do not go from being overheated into an air-conditioned car/room. <br />
<br />
It took me over a year to recover and even then, I still have a 5% residue left. I was on steroids for a year (hence my problem with weight). But somehow (I know God intervened) he directed me to an acupuncturist. I mean really, where would I find an acupuncturist in the middle of East Texas? Well, there just happened to be one moving into the Longview/Tyler area straight from China. I accredit my recovery to that acupuncture/doctor and God. I was unable to finish my treatment before we were transferred to San Antonio so that's why I still have that 5%. But I do have to be careful. I can detect a weather change, cold front, and rain ever since my Bell's Palsy with an uncanny accuracy. But my main struggle is stress. My eye will begin twitching. It's my sign that its time to walk away and chill. <br />
<br />
Stop smiling? Nooooo, not me!<br />
<br />
March Madness was a great. Time to relax and enjoy...bragging rights for TEXAS!!!! Great Basketball!!Dianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12368376880999951356noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2042152062866520084.post-5723204232858147812012-04-01T14:30:00.000-07:002012-04-04T16:19:07.068-07:00The 45-minute storm...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's 6:00, Thursday evening. The evening started out wonderfully and we were attending our God child's Spring concert at Audie Murphie Middle School in Alamo...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwpAiRmQpuOnZKAP7xx7JltY0LWi-53aWj6LR3O4RIgCS_rC9HZMsNeOXViEVVxrSt5n4v67cF6g6lU9uOd_uv0HCJe5kECN7wpDF8DvoTRMLLDwkjFpYv4HPZKg9YkGnKSxCcVqfwbzI/s1600/DSC01110.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwpAiRmQpuOnZKAP7xx7JltY0LWi-53aWj6LR3O4RIgCS_rC9HZMsNeOXViEVVxrSt5n4v67cF6g6lU9uOd_uv0HCJe5kECN7wpDF8DvoTRMLLDwkjFpYv4HPZKg9YkGnKSxCcVqfwbzI/s320/DSC01110.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's Norah in the center. A little blurry but had to share. Norah plays the alto saxophone at Audie Murphy Middle School. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0PIpwBYTqisf1EuOQv8NH_DGakxCPgrdJUpVvvBncDaoxZMpFMPbyJL3MlPV62CRaYA9wAhJQMdw98eV1ZGkjFwxteDADSgMYIPkEw7EooWdDbhMPsbtB5nZTxljQYy4AQBMDllupCyE/s1600/DSC01112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0PIpwBYTqisf1EuOQv8NH_DGakxCPgrdJUpVvvBncDaoxZMpFMPbyJL3MlPV62CRaYA9wAhJQMdw98eV1ZGkjFwxteDADSgMYIPkEw7EooWdDbhMPsbtB5nZTxljQYy4AQBMDllupCyE/s320/DSC01112.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, Norah and Ralph</td></tr>
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We enjoyed seeing Norah and her parents, Odie and Mary Carden, and siblings, Gabriel and Michael. While enjoying the concert several parents commented that two big storms were headed our way. It would behoove us to rush home. So after a short visit, we headed home.<br />
<br />
It's 8:20, the phone rings...it's my sister-in-law, Cleo Hinojosa.<br />
<br />
"Are you prepared?" she asked.<br />
"Prepared for what?" I asked.<br />
"Well, the storm that's headed this way." she added, "If it contains tornadoes, what's the plan?"<br />
"Geez, I never thought about that." I answered. "We'll probably head for the bathroom in the west side of our home."<br />
<br />
After exchanging a few more insights, we hung up. I began walking around the house. Our back bedroom had stacks and stacks of papers on the bed and on tables. Ralph and I had been organizing our records for this year's taxes. The first thought that came into my mind was the wind tossing everything everywhere so I quickly repacked everything back into boxes and stored them away in the closet.<br />
<br />
Next thing, I asked Ralph if we had masking tape. Off he went and came back with several rolls. <br />
<br />
It's now about 9:00 p.m. <br />
<br />
"Start taping the windows." I said.<br />
<br />
No sooner did we begin and hail started hitting the front side of our house which faces north. At first it was like slow popping popcorn but it wasn't long before it sounded like tommy guns firing.<br />
<br />
In the midst of all this, in our hall entrance we have a picture frame with Jesus Christ set in the middle. The Jesus figurine popped away from the frame and I caught it. I looked at Ralph, Ralph looked at me. I held on to sweet Jesus, praying the Lord's prayer the entire time we were moving our furniture and taping.<br />
<br />
Marble size hail was blowing in a straight line into the front of the house. We taped the windows and I covered them with sheets and moved furniture in front to keep any debris out...if the windows broke, I thought.<br />
<br />
The news report said it would last about 45 minutes. It as the longest 45 minutes of my life. Within 15 minutes there was a foot high layer of hail in our foyer. <br />
<br />
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The hail pelted the roof, the sides and demolished pretty much everything in its way.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzs835TKv7PTg_DiqPTgO94Ds1vm05E8PJJRufhoybfOp9HgM9JnzkEAZUi3VT4n9ye9YFkJQqJAJ6eWTGVptkZiTP1_PJT3yZ9SSlqust23R9geuUN_9139A8Aq1BrtvgQFy2D5-X274/s1600/DSC01126.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzs835TKv7PTg_DiqPTgO94Ds1vm05E8PJJRufhoybfOp9HgM9JnzkEAZUi3VT4n9ye9YFkJQqJAJ6eWTGVptkZiTP1_PJT3yZ9SSlqust23R9geuUN_9139A8Aq1BrtvgQFy2D5-X274/s200/DSC01126.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was out our garage drive way...the icy river. Our neighbor across the street (you can see his garage door open) yelled out that there was about a foot of ice on our roof.</td></tr>
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Thirty minutes passed and the onslaught began to slow down. I placed my puppies in the west bathroom. Sandy remained with us as we continued taping as many windows that needed it.<br />
<br />
Thirty minutes later, it was over.<br />
<br />
<br />
The aftermath...<br />
<br />
Our yard, front and back, looked like cutter ants had cleaned every tree bare. Our potted plants and bushes looked like someone had taken a machine gun and randomly shot everything in sight.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bobo's and Pande's tree - a few hours earlier it was an umbrella of shade in our back yard...all the leaves were gone.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Cn3qD2iBMD9uknFJ6JR13fPE7XjUdnedFKhl3NfEB1aRFuMg-cMH5bwaiwLJJgS-S2YlHavkbht0ghr_n0V5FTm6z4NyiXSM028BGv_My4ndxnPM4opyDPlu9QEhW13DJeanIxHJjwA/s1600/DSC01165.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Cn3qD2iBMD9uknFJ6JR13fPE7XjUdnedFKhl3NfEB1aRFuMg-cMH5bwaiwLJJgS-S2YlHavkbht0ghr_n0V5FTm6z4NyiXSM028BGv_My4ndxnPM4opyDPlu9QEhW13DJeanIxHJjwA/s320/DSC01165.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't know if you can see but we have a lot of cacti...it was systematically "gunned" down...but the Blessed Mary stood tall and untouched. Our lemon tree that was full of new lemons was picked clean...so was our valencia oranges and grapefruit trees. I was unable to load the pictures.<br />
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Electricity went out at 11:00 p.m. and came on the next day at 6:00 p.m. We were so blessed. The front windows were chipped around all the borders...only two window panes cracked but held together. Our left front light got busted, the roof needs to be replaced, the fence looks like it got pressure washed and best of all we were fine....but not my sister-in-law...<br />
<br />
She told me that she felt so secure that after we hung up she sat down to watch TV. When the pelting started she thought they'd be ok. The shutters covering the windows on the north side of her home gave way and windows broke...ice and water started going in. Her neighborhood was the worst hit. Water started seeping in through the front door. No problem, Cleo said, she began placing mats, towels anything to absorb the incoming water. Thinking it was over and under control, my brother-in-law opened the door when a fire truck went by. The next door neighbors had an explosion and fire. In rushed dirty, murky water. Their entire house was under four inches of water. Their three cars outside...totaled. It was devastating. Arturo's once pristine yard looked like Louisiana swamp land. <br />
<br />
We attempted to go to their home since we couldn't communicate with them but were unable to make it. (Police kept turning us away.) Luckily, Gloria, my other sister-in-law and her husband, David, stepped in and helped Cleo and Arturo clean up. <br />
<br />
We visited them Saturday night and found them in good humor, blessed to be alive. Their home will probably be gutted or leveled and their automobiles totaled...but as Cleo said...WE"RE ALIVE!!!<br />
<br />
I have never been more scared than I was that night...but Jesus Christ in my hand held us together. Cutter ants have taught me, the strong will survive and if it does, it will come back better than ever. <br />
<br />
The storm prepared us for what would happen Sunday morning...<br />
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<br />Dianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12368376880999951356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2042152062866520084.post-11188574623116430332012-04-01T12:57:00.000-07:002012-04-01T12:57:49.510-07:00I love you, Sandy...We weathered the storm, and thought the worst was over. But in the still of the long, dark morning, our dear friend and companion of 13 years passed on. Sandra D, our sandy-colored chow-chow, left us. She didn't want to go evidenced by her desire to stay by our side, but her crippled body couldn't take it much longer. It was time, she had served us well protecting our home, our children and loving us unconditionally as only her kind know how. We will miss our furry child, our sweet Sandra D.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sandra D<br />
June, 1998 - April 1, 2012<br />
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<img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHIqE_17T2C020XQFy1gdnSTlQn47y9DZ-fT55P38h0bxV4SjRbBjG3S9kMLkEz_vhXnafLYc9GhuVHvBdKr92lgv3GSZPtb9LC6eyzTIEOhQU9lJ8Msz5y35LzC6mYS1H9SU31PyV36M/s320/scan0002.jpg" width="233" /></a></div><div><br />
This photo taken in our living room and was the photo used for 2008 Christmas card. She was the only family member available at the time and she said she would pose for that year's Christmas picture. We love her very much so we wanted to share her with everyone. Everyone else were in different places, doing busy things.<br />
<br />
Sandy's whole life was spent defending our fence and our home. She spent her early days, playing, roaming, barking and guarding our domain; every dog's dream.<br />
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She served us willingly, everyday, and gave us unconditional love at any given moment. She suffered from arthritis and hip dysplasia but she bravely took her suffering so she could be with us. She reminded us of how simple life can and should be.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghipI_yttxPNamB-z2hxjlWlBSfQAZXLIkcVQ1eA7Cy3zVfIArAivaRNxiBWN4ejvJL9ZJB5iGZ_0iV91W28R4aMU7Eal5ee4iH27aVgn0p6IJLYO1YNULsaeZ3TGeEsyjf9K1lWapoBY/s1600/scan0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghipI_yttxPNamB-z2hxjlWlBSfQAZXLIkcVQ1eA7Cy3zVfIArAivaRNxiBWN4ejvJL9ZJB5iGZ_0iV91W28R4aMU7Eal5ee4iH27aVgn0p6IJLYO1YNULsaeZ3TGeEsyjf9K1lWapoBY/s320/scan0001.jpg" width="295" /></a></div>Even though our hearts are broken, we will miss you, baby...we know you're in a better place - running wild with Keasha. Someday, we'll be together again.<br />
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</div>Dianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12368376880999951356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2042152062866520084.post-30882290242102886742012-03-19T11:02:00.001-07:002012-03-19T13:08:40.795-07:00Battling with prayer...Dear Friends and Family...<br />
<br />
Several years ago...too many to count, my dear friend and classmate, Dora Elia Garcia Saavedra (Dr. Saavedra of UPTA) moved back to the valley after many years away. Our family had recently returned, too, after being away some 22 years. Dora and I clung to each other that first year. She was trying to finish her dissertation for her Ph.D. and I was trying to adjust to valley living...city living gave me experiences that had changed me. My awareness opened my eyes to differences that didn't have to be. There was the "machismo" attitude, the non-existent conservation and recycling system, family dramas and dramas that I thought belonged back in high school.<br />
<br />
Ralph and I had moved around quite a bit during our sabbatical from the valley. We lived in Houston, got transferred to Denver, Colorado, back to Houston, then Longview, Texas and finally San Antonio before we moved back. I enjoyed freedoms that freed my mind and my soul, and now we were returning to the valley. I dreaded returning to the valley. I cried for days, praying that I was strong enough to face the challenges I knew I would be facing. At the time it was my mother and my sister I dreaded returning to not so much for me but for my young daughters. I did not want them to go through what I had experienced growing up. This time around, I informed my mom and sis, if they spewed even an ounce of uninvited, cruel criticism, it would be the last time I would speak to them. Without going into detail regarding this criticism, trust me, there is constructive criticism and this was not that. (I do want to add that my sister is no longer that person.)<br />
<br />
So back to Dora...<br />
<br />
Dora and I would walk at Bill Schupp Park here in McAllen, sometimes daily, sometimes just a few times a week. We discussed her dissertation, our families, prayer and meditation. I had found that praying the rosary was especially helpful in quieting the mind. At the time, Dora did not know how to pray the rosary. So everyday, we would pray, sometimes out loud and sometimes in silence. It wasn't long before Dora perfected her rosary, archiving to memory the different mysteries of our faith. Combined with meditation, I found that in order to live a more grounded, spiritual life I had to silence my mind. How can I hear or know God if my mind is constantly chattering about mundane things that have nothing to do with him or living a good life. It was a wonderful time.<br />
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It would be great if I could say that I have prayed the rosary everyday since then but that would be a big, fat lie. On this side of my return to the valley, meditation also fell by the wayside. It is not until now that I've finally have gotten to that place...and if you've been there, you know what I'm talking about. It happens to joggers when they run, it's the place I call "The Zone." When I jogged, walked, mediated, or prayed the rosary it put me in the Zone.<br />
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More years passed, Dora got her doctorate and I joined the work force. It was in the year 2000, I, along with two of my classmates, decided to revive our class reunions. Everyone was so busy, raising children, working, and facing challenges. But a small core of our class remained faithful and we began gathering every year. Made up mostly of locals, we celebrated another lifetime and people that touched us.<br />
<br />
It wasn't long before things got messy. That valley mentality (It's what I call it. This is not meant of offend anyone but it exists.) It got the better of us and soon there were problems in Camelot.<br />
<br />
During that time Celia Munoz Bazziomani, our larger than life beam of light and classmate, my childhood friend and confidant, found herself battling cancer. It's now 2005, and unbeknownst to us, Celia is battling the biggest war in her life. Following surgery that was suppose to fix everything, there were complications. Celia fell into a coma for 30 days. It was by the grace of God that Celia came back to us...and she brought some valuable information.<br />
<br />
Celia shared with me in an e-mail, everything she had seen and heard during those 30 days. She told me that there were angels battling in between heaven and hell for her soul. What tipped the scales were prayers. She could hear the countless rosaries being prayed on her behalf. Rosaries from the nuns and children at Casa Amparo, from another orphanage further down in Mexico, from our friends and family, church, strangers...she heard them all. It was our prayers that brought her back for another short while, so she could finish what she started. God was not done with Celia.<br />
<br />
She asked that I read her e-mail letter to our classmates. As promised, I read it at our 2006 class reunion. I posted it on our class website. You could hear a pin drop when I read it. She wanted everyone to know how important it was to pray for each other. In the early morning hours after our reunion, Cynthia Weber Garza and I spent our last slumber party with Celia. We didn't know then but her last trip to the orphanage, whose name I don't know, would be her last.<br />
<br />
I didn't understand back then what I understand now...which is the way it is in life. I understand that forgiveness is your way out of your mental prison. Pray for everyone, even your enemies - God is in their lives just like he's in yours. It may be the prayer that saves someone's life. It saved mine.<br />
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Since the time Dora and I prayed the rosary...another mystery was added, the Luminous Mysteries.<br />
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Want to know more about the rosary: <a href="http://www.catholic.org/prayers/mystery.php">The Rosary</a><br />
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What I understand today...<br />
<br />
I finally got my groove back re: meditation, prayer - it's battling insomnia for me, fixing my health, and I'm feeling the love again.<br />
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No one knows what the menagerie of friends and friends will do to your life - good or bad...but when you pray, without judgement, when you forgive, without judgement, it becomes what God wants it to be. I love his ways.<br />
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One small prayer, one small acknowledgement, one small gesture of kindness opens up the heavens.<br />
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Love and forgiveness, over everything else, is the healer of all ills. Watch how the people that truly love or have loved you come back, stay, or touch your life even if its for a brief moment. Your memory will keep it in your heart for a lifetime.<br />
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Dora, Celia and <i>You</i> will always be in my heart...Dianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12368376880999951356noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2042152062866520084.post-36077456287355415302012-03-14T18:38:00.001-07:002012-03-14T18:52:36.324-07:00Being comfortedAs most of my friends know, my mom passed away last summer. I was reminded of the emotional rollercoaster ride by another one of my Facebook friends when she lost her dad just last week. Witnessing Lucee's pain wasn't easy. It felt as if I was losing my parents all over again. <br />
<br />
I was comforted by an unexpected occurence. I knew when it happened that it was my mom reaching out, letting me know, somehow, the next "road less traveled." It came in the form of a phone call and an invitation. My husband, Ralph, a retired AT&T employee, had been a member of the Pioneers, AT&T's non-profit volunteer organization. Ralph was an active member until his return to the workforce. The Pioneers were needing <em>active</em> members to carry on their community service.<br />
<br />
About the same time this happened, Comfort House, a non-profit organization, was having a fundraiser. Their flyer popped up on my news feed on Facebook.<br />
<br />
Comfort House is a Special Care Facility for patients in their terminal stages of illness, whether it be cancer, Aids, etc. who have prognosis of 4 months or less of life to live. It's their desire to serve those who are in most dire need of their care. It's a 510(c)3 agency and donations are tax deductible.<br />
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It's a humble home with 10 bed homelike residences providing 24/7 care to anyone regardless of age, race, ethnicity, religion, social status or ability to pay. They work together with a hospice to provide a comfortable, clean place where your loved one can live with love and dignity. Their ministry of love and compassion goes beyond anything I could have imagined. They stand by you in whatever is needed, providing physical comfort, administering medications as directed by the hospice nurse, but what I felt most was the love, and selflessness of each member of their staff. Their love and prayers sustained our family during my mom's short stay.<br />
<br />
They don't charge familes for their services. Families of residents are asked to make donations if they're able but it's not required nor expected. Other support comes from the community, gifts, fundraising activities and foundation grants. <em>They do not seek Medicare or Medicaid reimbursement by choice. </em>Community volunteers make up the difference that enables them to operate with a smaller staff. (<a href="https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=513484168&ref=ts#!/ComfortHouseServicesInc">Comfort House Services Inc.</a> for more information.)<br />
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It is their mission to provide a peaceful, homelike environment where a person may die in peace, with dignity, surrounded by loved ones. It is their belief that no one should die in pain nor should they die alone.<br />
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They have served the community for 22 years.<br />
<br />
So when the Pioneers asked us to continue their community services in the Valley, I jumped at the opportunity. But there is more to the story.<br />
<br />
It was where I first heard of Victor Alvarez, a beautiful 23 year-old, who lived at Comfort House as a young boy because his family had given him up due to his illness, spinal muscular atrophy. He was not suppose to live long but he did, long enough to catch the eye of one volunteer, Elva Yolanda Morado, his mother who adopted him. He was a poet, artist, writer (he had column in "The Monitor") and an inspirational speaker. It was Victor who inspired me to return to college and finish my degree. I watched Victor as he attended Rayburn Elementary, then Morris, followed by McAllen High School or McHi as most of us know it. Victor fought to live...but was interrupted. He was called home on August 17, 2010. <br />
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Some of us are not crippled in body but in mind. Seeing Victor triumph gave me the courage to go back and finish my degree...in journalism and in life.<br />
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You can read more about Victor at <a href="http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/themonitor/obituary.aspx?n=victor-manuel-alvarez&pid=144791960">Victor Manuel Alvarez - The Monitor</a><br />
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And there is still more...<br />
<br />
One of the Pioneer representatives , Belinda Castillo Estrada, was someone from my past. Forty years ago, I was a bridesmaid at her wedding to Mario Estrada in Corpus Christi. Belinda and I hadn't seen each other since her wedding. So it was a homecoming besides a golden opportunity to serve. And just to extend the story further, her next door neighbor at the time was Thomas Weber. He was my escort at her wedding and if the name sounds familiar, it's because he is now married to one of my closest and dearest friend and classmate, Cynthia Garza Weber. As usual there is also another story but we'll let that one be. Everything happens for a reason. And while I may not be able to pronounce that reason at this moment, my life has come full circle, again.<br />
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Life is amazing isn't it?...or life can be amazing when you follow the dots...<br />
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Comfort House is in much need of donations. They provide meals for the staff and all volunteers. Check out their <a href="https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=513484168&ref=ts#!/photo.php?fbid=351495641555196&set=a.351563444881749.81970.321789401192487&type=1&theater">Wish list</a>. Maybe you have some extra supplies you can spare. They'll appreciate it.<br />
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Thank you to the Pioneers, Debbie Martin and Belinda - Comfort House Administrator, Mary Botello and Margaret Gutierrez, administrative assistant - for all you do.<br />
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God Bless...Dianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12368376880999951356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2042152062866520084.post-50801274748139519122012-03-07T07:53:00.000-08:002012-03-07T07:53:56.431-08:00Meditation and ForgivenessThe world is so different...yet some things remain the same.<br />
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With all the political, economical, and nature's turmoil going on in the world, I take 15 minutes out of my world and try to meditate. It is my favorite form of prayer. For years in my 20's and 30's, I had no problem. Today, it's a different. Before, I don't know if it's all my experiences, the things I've seen, or just life's daily challenges kept me from succeeding but it had been very difficult to silence my mind. <br />
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Lately, with the help of a dry sauna, the silence has gotten stronger. First of all, I am claustrophobic. Fortunately, the "box" has a glass door so light comes in, I can see out or if worse comes to worse, there is a soft white light you can turn on. It can remind you of a coffin which in itself is eerie, except that you're sitting down. In a way its symbolic like dying to oneself. When you silence the mind, you allow for our Lord to make the best of a bad situation. a win/win situation...what it should have been before we interfered with our opinions, thoughts and unfulfilled intentions.<br />
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Meditation is the best teacher of letting go. Now, just step back and watch and listen - you will without a shadow of a doubt begin to see and hear clearer, and literally, find light at the end of the tunnel. By the way prayer has the same effect, except we're telling him what we want. Meditation on the other hand lets it become what it should be.<br />
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Ok, ok...I'm just speaking from my experience but you never know...its worth trying.<br />
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One of the other things I practice in meditation is forgiveness. It makes my world brighter and has the same effect of letting go, and letting God. Sometimes you have to forgive over and over again, until you succeed in letting go completely.<br />
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There's a poem on forgiveness that I'd like to share with you. It's written by the late Robert Muller, former secretary-general of the United Nations. It speaks to our world today. Please take the time to read it.<br />
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Decide to Forgive<br />
<br />
Decide to forgive<br />
For resentment is negative.<br />
Resentment is poisonous<br />
Resentment diminishes and devours the self.<br />
Be the first to forgive.<br />
To smile and to take the first step<br />
And you will see happiness bloom<br />
On the face of your human brother or sister.<br />
Be always the first<br />
Do not wait for other to forgive<br />
For by forgiving<br />
you become the master of fate<br />
The fashioner of life<br />
A doer of miracles.<br />
To forgive is the highest,<br />
Most beautiful form of love.<br />
In return you will receive<br />
Untold peace and happiness.<br />
And here is the program for achieving a truly forgiving heart:<br />
Sunday: Forgive yourself.<br />
Monday: Forgive your family.<br />
Tuesday: Forgive your friends and associates.<br />
Wednesday: Forgive across economic lines within your own nation.<br />
Thursday: Forgive across cultural lines within your own nation.<br />
Friday: Forgive across political lines within your own nation.<br />
Saturday: Forgive other nations.<br />
<i>Only the brave know how to forgive. A coward never forgives.</i><br />
<i>It is not in his nature.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
This poem has been printed many times. I'm sure you've seen it before, but it bears repeating.<br />
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Our world is in much need of prayer, forgiveness, and love. Fifteen minutes of prayer in silence is nothing. Let's help heal the world.Dianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12368376880999951356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2042152062866520084.post-79699538140734599132012-01-26T15:31:00.000-08:002012-01-26T23:52:40.557-08:00Tortillas When I was a little girl, my mom would give me pieces of dough (flour tortillas) and I would desperately try to spread the bit of dough into a semi-circle. Regardless of shape, my mom would place them on the <i>comal (couldn't think of the English equivalent...skillet?) </i>and cook my afternoon's work. Daddy would come home and ooh and ah over my tortillas. He would add, "When you grow up you can make tortillas for Daddy." Well, say no more, I was going to turn out those babies just like my mama.<br />
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Then puberty set in. Boys mainly. Somehow the intricacies of tortilla making were no longer up there with serving my father with said same prize tortillas. But someone had to put tortillas on the table and that job belonged to me.<br />
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It was a way of life. I was reminded again of my responsibility during Hurricane Beulah. My grandparents lived in Madero, just south of Mission. During Hurricane Beulah, the levy(s) were flooded so my grandparents came to stay with us in Mission. On the first day of their two week stay, Grandma Tomasita herded me into the kitchen at 4 o'clock in the afternoon.<br />
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"It's time to start supper." she told me.<br />
"But guellita, we don't eat until daddy gets home and that's not until 6." I answered.<br />
One look and that was it. For two weeks, I had to have the stack of tortillas ready by the time my dad arrived at 6 o'clock. Dad was more flexible so he wasn't concerned if supper wasn't ready right at 6 but I had them ready nonetheless. This responsibility lasted until I graduated from high school but I had made up my mind, I was NOT going to be stuck making flour tortillas for anyone, anytime....until I met my husband. <br />
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I had to bring it!! This Valley girl could make flour tortillas from scratch (besides every savory, mexican dish you can name...except <i>mole</i>) Well, the tortilla making honeymoon lasted about five months but I got my man and the rest is history.<br />
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Until now...<br />
<br />
I was making chicken soup and told Ralph flour tortillas would be nice, but we were out of flour tortillas. <br />
Ralph looked at me and I looked at him and then it happened. I opened my mouth.<br />
<br />
"You know, hon, I used to know how to make flour tortillas from scratch. Remember?" I reminded him.<br />
"Do you think you still remember?" he asked.<br />
"Lets find out." I told him. "I have all the ingredients."<br />
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So I reprised my prized tortillas.<br />
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Nice, huh? The tortillas tasted better, fresher. And now I'm back, making tortillas this time because I can. This time its art. I don't mean on the tortilla (chortle). It's the art of making the tortilla. I don't have a recipe...its just a feel...something I learned all those years of making them when I was a little girl.<br />
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Now, making tortillas is full of memories...my mom, my dad, Sunday family dinners and though those reading this will never know...they taste great!<br />
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Happy New Year everyone! It been a long time since I blogged. Today was the first time I felt like writing. again.Dianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12368376880999951356noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2042152062866520084.post-70919078546136909552011-06-19T11:49:00.000-07:002011-06-19T22:35:29.774-07:00Father's DayHope y'all don't mind...In honor of father's everywhere...<br />
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These are the father's in my life...<br />
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My father, Guadalupe Corpus...<br />
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This will be the second Father's Day I'll be missing my dad. He passed away June 11, 2010. I think about my Dad everyday....all day lately, since my mom's illness. Dad's passing away has brought many revelations for me. <br />
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The pictures above has been the latest. I didn't know quite where I fit in, in my family that is. I didn't "see" myself in my parents or siblings.(Physically or emotionally...there was a time I thought I was adopted.) I thought I looked like my Grandma Tomasa but I looked at her picture at mom's house just the other day and found I looked nothing like her. No one has ever said you look like so and so, well maybe my mom...but I don't see it. To my surprise I found the two pictures above very similar. Wow! I look like my Dad. Duh! Where have I been? I realized....I'm the most like my Dad, temper included. <br />
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Last week my brother and I went through Dad's things. We found journals with notes, meetings, names, and numbers. He kept minutes of any discussions he thought were important. Same way I do. I didn't know it but he was a good bookkeeper, too. So am I. It made me smile.<br />
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Thank you, Daddy, for your gifts. Your gift love for reading, your love of family, love for the unknown, for your "socialness", for teaching me what true faith is, let God be the judge, not me. I love you...miss you.<br />
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I was also very lucky to have a wonderful, beautiful father-in-law, whom I love very much.<br />
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Ralph P. Garza<br />
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[acquiring photo]<br />
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Gosh, I loved him. Thank you for all the time we spent together. We would talk politics, Edinburg history, and his childhood; I liked his childhood stories the best. Miss you, Dad.<br />
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Then there was my grandfather, Amado Lopez, Sr. My grandpa had a handlebar mustache. He smoked cigarettes. <br />
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When I would kiss grandpa, I could smell the cigarette smoke on his mustache. Don't ask me why but I liked that smell...the feel and smell would give me warm fuzzies. When I met Ralph, he had a mustache...and he smoked. I remember how I would get butterflies in my stomach when he kissed me...and the warm fuzzies.<br />
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I told Ralph that's why I fell in love with him...he reminded me of my grandfather, the smoke, the mustache and no one else loved me like my grandfather...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlJT0VaptBCDCbvnNvdTykIPL9L9fNzrPrkgaMzcZN4f9B8XxOh3NntIDn604mD7if5tyX6WiCR8QMX96riCj89qsYGmzIIiBu2rUZgGGLWvWLREK2Edc7_tcAaohBGm-3zJjlEBPa_cI/s1600/Grandpa+Amado_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlJT0VaptBCDCbvnNvdTykIPL9L9fNzrPrkgaMzcZN4f9B8XxOh3NntIDn604mD7if5tyX6WiCR8QMX96riCj89qsYGmzIIiBu2rUZgGGLWvWLREK2Edc7_tcAaohBGm-3zJjlEBPa_cI/s200/Grandpa+Amado_001.jpg" width="131" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Thanks Grandpa, for making me feel special, only, <i>you</i>, made all my cousins feel special, too. After you passed away, we all thought each of us was your favorite grandchild...we were!!! I love you and miss you, too.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I saved the best for last...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My husband and father of our children, Ralph F. Garza.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAZSFse9GQkDIO8zOwNQHEEft2cEV38ih4Ufw7afPeijU9yZuqlNdOUn7WAEuRlULSXoAT94PyHEnGwyUg0NyisWPyccpLlwE6KX9lARcjl_p8a_Mj876fBiP5VznaIk5Z8Sd522BPUmY/s1600/9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAZSFse9GQkDIO8zOwNQHEEft2cEV38ih4Ufw7afPeijU9yZuqlNdOUn7WAEuRlULSXoAT94PyHEnGwyUg0NyisWPyccpLlwE6KX9lARcjl_p8a_Mj876fBiP5VznaIk5Z8Sd522BPUmY/s200/9.jpg" width="196" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sam likes Daddy's mustache, too!</td></tr>
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My hubby, whose buttons I can push, makes everything all right, messes up, and never gives up...Happy Father's Day.<br />
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We've seen it all and been through so much. Thank you for loving me when I had Bell's Palsy. Even though my face fell off the map, you loved me even more. When we had Sam and I went back in the hospital you held the fort alone with 2 toddlers and a 3-day old. You've been at every birth, first everything, football game, competition, track meet, practices of all kinds, band concerts, open school nights - anything that involved any of your daughters. When it came to college, you even sent me back to school, too...and even when the girls were all grown up and living at home...you'd call home before we'd leave the restaurant to see if you could take something home for them.<br />
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You've done an awesome job, Ralph F. Garza. I love you...Happy Father's Day.<br />
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<i>TO ALL THE FATHERS IN THE WORLD - HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!...today and everyday!</i><br />
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<i>...</i>Dianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12368376880999951356noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2042152062866520084.post-58867233196631397212011-05-25T07:10:00.000-07:002011-05-25T07:12:03.634-07:00Celebrating Friends...Today is Cynthia Garza Weber's birthday.<br />
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Cynthia and I have known each other since Kindergarten at Our Lady of Guadalupe Catholic School days. Celia, Cynthia and I...in that basement classroom with Mrs. Lopez. And unbeknown to me was that when Celia was born at McAllen General Hospital, Cynthia was just down the hall in another room...destined to be best friends with Celia forever. I love you, Cyn. Hope you have a wonderful birthday.<br />
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Several years ago, while visiting Corpus Christi, Ralph and I met a lovely couple, Peter and Wendy Smith from England. Yes, just like in <i>Peter Pan. </i>They were just darling people. They were traveling through the valley birdwatching. Their plans were to head to McAllen the following weekend. Soooo, I invited them to my daughter Samantha's high school graduation party that was set the following weekend. It was the traditional McHi Kicker Dance.<br />
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The following weekend Peter and Wendy arrived and attended our graduation party. Wendy and Peter couldn't believe their eyes! They loved it! No one knows how to celebrate better than Texans!<br />
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Over the years we've kept in touch exchanging Christmas cards. This year we got another visit...Mandy and Wendy (Mandy is Wendy's daughter). They had already been two weeks on the road visiting Texas sites and photographing our birding bonanzas (I say that because the Valley has one of the largest bird residencies in the U.S.) The Smiths and Mandy belong to a Bird Club. They take pictures of all the birds they site, take them back to England, and everyone has a smashing time identifying their trip cache.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7RGRNgqZJT-6t2X4Ea-VN1CPSHvzOMy5VfEvTyaU4_-ocS1_Hw7pAqgC31MHGwVSy9kE6nPMainBlXoCm72rP-OuwOF352TT9FLtsvZA-AowYJZYcnShFJp7uxh_Mf8yGCw_Co9RwZrE/s1600/DSC00930.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7RGRNgqZJT-6t2X4Ea-VN1CPSHvzOMy5VfEvTyaU4_-ocS1_Hw7pAqgC31MHGwVSy9kE6nPMainBlXoCm72rP-OuwOF352TT9FLtsvZA-AowYJZYcnShFJp7uxh_Mf8yGCw_Co9RwZrE/s320/DSC00930.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wendy, Ralph and Mandy.</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU3izOWEMkJQCzqNCEdV6MgcCoHz86ESKsATISDRoJC1M-ifXIMhQ5T4NkkWq4qjQ1mLIWcVHZdh5OVPnfLfijeMj3_ESQOEUGHRpmZ96B1Vvne8PzKtD8Grq_aNaHu0iUSVuRQfD1CeE/s1600/DSC00926.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU3izOWEMkJQCzqNCEdV6MgcCoHz86ESKsATISDRoJC1M-ifXIMhQ5T4NkkWq4qjQ1mLIWcVHZdh5OVPnfLfijeMj3_ESQOEUGHRpmZ96B1Vvne8PzKtD8Grq_aNaHu0iUSVuRQfD1CeE/s320/DSC00926.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>We spotted several birds in our back yard and showed off our beautiful cacti blossoms...unfortunately the ones shown are the few I had photographed.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdhyKEUS9NSlK6V09sYxbqxyW1u4ElzovUAIdTI6XaJY6gpBDb9X7kUyWnnExV9WpwF3ylWmxDFjpE-5DvZta-tiBS6SV8llQl3dnWWrakSHs9tH6Izk9nxMUUjT9jt17-WznkCKKxjuc/s1600/DSC00934.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdhyKEUS9NSlK6V09sYxbqxyW1u4ElzovUAIdTI6XaJY6gpBDb9X7kUyWnnExV9WpwF3ylWmxDFjpE-5DvZta-tiBS6SV8llQl3dnWWrakSHs9tH6Izk9nxMUUjT9jt17-WznkCKKxjuc/s320/DSC00934.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't know the name but this one has a crown of flowers that bloom perfectly in a ring .</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE4VCTeyBGt87AYI3cj9G7RcNZSuDtt_lSvao3iATBjHOpICaNqe0l8Bkz4yVgaRVgmvIx8UPT0hEZ1EHiRwVpMKl3DmzYyNrON5H7odE8vvpJT606soKmpRtbLBqUWUg5GfOIDBmEqvY/s1600/DSC00572.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE4VCTeyBGt87AYI3cj9G7RcNZSuDtt_lSvao3iATBjHOpICaNqe0l8Bkz4yVgaRVgmvIx8UPT0hEZ1EHiRwVpMKl3DmzYyNrON5H7odE8vvpJT606soKmpRtbLBqUWUg5GfOIDBmEqvY/s320/DSC00572.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Next time, I'll photograph them when they're all blooming.<br />
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It's a small world after all...Dianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12368376880999951356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2042152062866520084.post-3968693753119089512011-05-23T08:40:00.000-07:002011-05-23T08:53:02.863-07:00Celebrating Friends...From Mission High School Class of 1970 - Mission, Texas<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><i>GONE BUT NEVER FORGOTTEN!!</i></div><br />
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Today is Celia's Birthday...<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Celia Munoz Badiozzamani</div><div style="text-align: center;">Born May 23, 1952, left us November 21, 2006...</div><br />
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None of us can forget Celia...she left an indelible mark on our hearts. I get to visit Celia often since she's a stone throw away from my in-laws at Valley Memorial Gardens...her and Jaime Barrera. <br />
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Several years ago, Cynthia Garza Weber purchased a plaque with left over monies from donations from classmates for Celia's flowers.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The family did not accept it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(We respect their wishes but hope someday it will be besides her.)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Celia,</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i> Girl, I can't believe it's been this long. I miss you. It's not the same, Celia...without you. In the past if I thought about you, I'd pick up the phone and call...you had an easy number...the last four digits ended in S H I T...that's how you taught me to remember it...remember? Cynthia and I talk about you all the time. We wanted to share with you that two of our daughters are getting married...on the same day, December 10th. Cynthia and Tom will be in Austin; we'll be in Kyle...thirteen miles south. Cynthia's going to have a special table with pictures of all the family members that have gone before, your picture will be among them. Cynthia says she knows you'll be attending.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>We'll be having our 41st class reunion on Friday, June 17th, Celia. Drop by, won't you. You'll get to hear the #1 complaint: "We never thought growing old was going to be like this!" If you were around, we'd be laughing at that...probably ROFLMAO!!! (I know you kept telling me you were not computer literate and you left us before Facebook became so big so I hope you can figure out what it stands for.)</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Well, you know the state of things in the world, Celia...please pray for us. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CELIA! </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Love you,</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><br />
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</div>Dianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12368376880999951356noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2042152062866520084.post-26830365249533720822011-03-18T14:36:00.000-07:002011-03-18T14:58:11.337-07:00Friends & Kapok!Happiness...is seeing my friends...<br />
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It happens often. I'll think of someone and they'll call... or if I'm lucky, I'm going to see them . That was the case with Mark. About a week ago, I was thinking about Mark Mills and thought I'd write something on Facebook, "Missing you, Mark...How are you?" It turned out Mark was planning a trip to the Valley to visit his mom and participate in a Golf Tournament of past high school golf players. Coinkidink! <br />
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The golf tournament, founded by Pat Thompson Jr., began about four years ago. Pat wrote me an e-mail and I responded with a list of classmates, under and over, who I knew had played golf. Well, apparently it is now an annual thing. They raise money for different causes.<br />
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John Leidner commented to Mark's post and said he'd be down, too. His visit - a family reunion.<br />
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Wow! Mark and I saw each other about 10 years ago. Mark, Nancy Gibson Hyslin and I met for lunch...it was great. The last time I saw John, was at our 35th class reunion. We managed to find a window of opportunity to meet and we did. It wasn't easy...but we agreed on breakfast at IHOP at 8:00 a.m. (Yes, it was early for us "retired" folks.) Mark invited Nancy and I invited Janie de Leon Barratachea. I also invited Mike Warshak but Mikey had a conflict and was unable to get out of it.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCRP-i7OiL0WFsO8ebTFbtV1xSkGw0CJJaN1pnWR5xXDlDU648OgQLSi9wMDMgOjfZM3hOhmICDa-PDKJqWZ-QgEUezqianFOjpl25ixz0A1GpaeYSSphlexUqY4c0ncJNMNJlt8RIyxg/s1600/DSC00868.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCRP-i7OiL0WFsO8ebTFbtV1xSkGw0CJJaN1pnWR5xXDlDU648OgQLSi9wMDMgOjfZM3hOhmICDa-PDKJqWZ-QgEUezqianFOjpl25ixz0A1GpaeYSSphlexUqY4c0ncJNMNJlt8RIyxg/s400/DSC00868.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">L to R: Nancy Gibson Hyslin, Mark Mills, John Leidner, Diana Corpus Garza, Janie De Leon Barratachea</td></tr>
</tbody></table>It was wonderful! We compared aches and pains...moms and dads...spouses and grandchildren and reminisced about good ole Mission. There's an awful lot of history in this small group. A great time was had by all. We said goodbye...and promised, we wouldn't wait ten years to do it again.<br />
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What we did decide was...next time we'll meet in Las Vegas....hehehe!!!<br />
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(Or if Nancy White Carmack brings us together...maybe Dallas...) <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXlqpqEnQqJRSpySRAi-sjPBV4tckhMzTId0rYDvAaRogSUeqxuQ4M1BctwX_NllhTEQIlc97j1Oi3UfSRKxML0idfKmd7NMSjJIi984T9L5lxpyEhojDFca5VlfV5HzNw78zibspxh6U/s1600/DSC00854.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXlqpqEnQqJRSpySRAi-sjPBV4tckhMzTId0rYDvAaRogSUeqxuQ4M1BctwX_NllhTEQIlc97j1Oi3UfSRKxML0idfKmd7NMSjJIi984T9L5lxpyEhojDFca5VlfV5HzNw78zibspxh6U/s640/DSC00854.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kapok or Silk-cotton tree</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
While driving my mom home one day, this tree caught my eye. Before I turned into mom's street I made a detour to the right and mom flipped...well, I <i>had to </i>go back. The bark was gray and green with huge thorns. It looked like someone had place cotton balls all over the tree. In actuality that cotton ball is the blossom. As destiny would have it, there were many reasons I got to see Nancy Gibson. I have been holding on to this photo because I couldn't find the name of the tree. I've seen it at UTPA (that's University of Texas- Pan American for all you non-valleyites out there.) but I've never known what it's called.<br />
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Nancy knew. It's called Kapok, Silky-cotton tree or sometimes referred to as Silky Floss. The tree is originally from South America but now it can be seen in West Africa and Southeastern Asian rainforests. <br />
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Since this tree is drought deciduous (that means it looses all its leaves during the tropical dry season), the five-pedal blossom appears before the leaves show up again and is white or pale pink. I didn't get close but the odor of the blossom is supposed to be unpleasant because it's meant to attract <b>BATS</b> that pollinate it. The leaves are at the top-most of the tree and it shades like an umbrella so I can see why we can't smell it...which might be a good thing.<br />
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The seeds, found in pods, are brown and round like peas. These pods will burst open while still on the trees after the leaves have fallen. The whitish (sometimes pale pink) cotton fiber surrounds the brown seeds.<br />
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Some use the trunk of the kapok tree to make dugout canoes. The white, fluffy seed covering is used in pillows and mattresses. The tree is buoyant and water resistant and is often used in flotation devices and padding. The seeds, leaves, bark and resin have been used to treat dysentery, fever, asthma and kidney disease. And my favorite thing about it that I didn't know is that in Mayan myths the kapok tree was <i>sacred</i>. They believed that the souls of the dead would climb up into the branches which reached into heaven.<br />
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Since this siting, I've seen two more on Pamela street. Although those are babies compared to this one, there is another one at UTPA in the inside garden just outside the Field House...that one is MAJESTIC!<br />
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Peace!Dianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12368376880999951356noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2042152062866520084.post-7773008017405834142011-03-15T10:14:00.000-07:002011-03-15T10:41:21.310-07:00TsunamisThis particular day and blog is dedicated to Nancy White Carmack for her unwavering faith and effervescent heart.<br />
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You can read her blog at: <a href="http://shilohpup-nwc.blogspot.com/">Nancy's blog</a><br />
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The thought occurred to me last night; I was thinking about my "tsunamis." Was I handling them well? The answer was a resounding, "NO!"<br />
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I have been struggling with my prayer life. Meditation has been difficult at best. Keeping my Lenten promises have loomed more like weights on my heart then the freedom praying offers. But last night was different. I realized that like in a tsunami, separation occurs. Separation of everything I hold as true, real and viable in my life. While the experience is horrific, whether physical or mental, its our reaction that dictates the outcome. How we react to that "separation" that we thought was our life will speak volumes of who we are.<br />
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Watching the news, it's clear that the Japanese people and their culture speaks volumes. Their kindness, their RESPECT above everything else - and even before the worst is over it's family, children, the human factor first.<br />
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My tsunamis were taking over. It was evident while praying my rosary. I burst into tears as I prayed "Hail, Holy Queen..."Pray for us, O holy Mother of God, that we may be made worthy of the promises of God." Then it came to me. I had prayed the Sorrowful Mysteries this evening and I was reminded of a particular meditation I had experienced in my younger years. The first Sorrowful Mystery is the Agony in the Garden. In my meditation I could see Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, praying intensely, and I in my arrogance asked him what I could do for him. He turned to me, angry and said, "What can you do for me? What can I do for you?" His answer startled me and brought me back to my waking state. Strangely, if your Catholic, you know that the Sorrowful mysteries are to be prayed on Tuesdays...it was Monday night.<br />
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Nonetheless, it made me see my trivial, petty, mundane tsunamis I was carrying while our Lord was carrying the weight of the world and he was still asking me what he could do for me.<br />
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He had already done it...I was just having difficulty letting go. I knew what I had to do and it wasn't going to be easy. But God had already done most of the work for me, I just needed to open my eyes and my heart and trust him. It was "a dark night of the soul" last night, but I finally placed it in God's hands trusting he would show me.<br />
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This morning, my answer and affirmation was there clear and open. I felt the tears wash my face, as they also washed my heart when I read Nancy's blog...and peace rushed in.<br />
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Nancy, you are a blessing.<br />
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They say that insanity is expecting change when you keep doing the same thing over and over again. While the process was devastating, I am still standing, still able...and WILLING to start over. For that, I am grateful, to be able to let go, to let the peace rush in.<br />
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God Bless!<br />
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Peace!Dianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12368376880999951356noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2042152062866520084.post-61045045252088426162011-02-01T13:20:00.000-08:002011-02-01T13:51:06.055-08:00Mission...where the buffalos roam!This happened August 23, 2010...<br />
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Not many of us expect a full grown Buffalo to wander into their yards but that's exactly what happened to my sister-in-law on this year's first day of school.<br />
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Esther O. Corpus, is my sister-in-law. She's married to my only brother, Arnaldo. She is an awesome, talented person. I should know...it was her expertise that gave me my kitchen. (She also took the pictures of the buffalo.)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC4qXHtlPU1AJwriKywXJAvZnG0RQsmuFz3qBni_D9lA6UNTLg_qD_8IVaE-sbO48BmZMp2ak2NyiqOmyPCO3xIs2qb5S0SEd7kclqtzs5NRHWakZIL9dOIHhn-n9TRSsDEeiwG4YDbkg/s1600/DSC00843.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC4qXHtlPU1AJwriKywXJAvZnG0RQsmuFz3qBni_D9lA6UNTLg_qD_8IVaE-sbO48BmZMp2ak2NyiqOmyPCO3xIs2qb5S0SEd7kclqtzs5NRHWakZIL9dOIHhn-n9TRSsDEeiwG4YDbkg/s320/DSC00843.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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She did an awesome job!!!<br />
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Now to my story...<br />
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Esther took, Kevin, 12, and Ray, 16, to school, came home and decided to catch a few more winks before she embarked on the rest of the day.<br />
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An hour and a half later she walked outside to enjoy her morning on the patio. While outside she went to the outside bathroom and upon her return, this was standing in the driveway.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib1diuQiv4D1tE14qcCZ-GxhsvX3X2ZrAeWhtClid5H0ICynZJBLdBipXNWNpxdCeLAQDqfoObkbzV24d9JEnKEuBMjo8so7MWbLVQq6uT_AJMBx1ISW8GGz1kkucDkQRYJWlkjN-KIxA/s1600/Buffalo3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib1diuQiv4D1tE14qcCZ-GxhsvX3X2ZrAeWhtClid5H0ICynZJBLdBipXNWNpxdCeLAQDqfoObkbzV24d9JEnKEuBMjo8so7MWbLVQq6uT_AJMBx1ISW8GGz1kkucDkQRYJWlkjN-KIxA/s320/Buffalo3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Monster and Sobe being the loyal dogs that they are, immediately went into protection mode, and barking ensued. Esther quickly rushed the dogs inside the house and called out to her house guests who were fast asleep.<br />
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Caesar Gonzalez and his son, Alexandro, were visiting from California jumped out of bed and ran outside. By that time our buffalo had somehow managed to get inside the swimming pool area. Alexandro now thinks buffalo roam in Mission and this was a typical day in Texas.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs5AK2fKrL4EQmUd8wI2EvtTBCK9ykcLgttCLXBGDj08nqDiOY_-DL_-mBTzVCfR6vfRim6QkTtgc4kquvPGMLgHftMY6j7qTY8rj3pSzljxABWIjvKB9UDUL_ywfvikoQUg7rIfwuLXE/s1600/Buffalo2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs5AK2fKrL4EQmUd8wI2EvtTBCK9ykcLgttCLXBGDj08nqDiOY_-DL_-mBTzVCfR6vfRim6QkTtgc4kquvPGMLgHftMY6j7qTY8rj3pSzljxABWIjvKB9UDUL_ywfvikoQUg7rIfwuLXE/s320/Buffalo2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Inside the swimming pool area.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUZjTVSRAYyH-1JiflQquCyRxqAWJwOpdatMHhp3kYK_Hc9M00tzt5k7qC6Is6Uq4wzSdj2Vbpry78u0j87znSZYVSR3xnbFYtZb6LnFG6jSNtP3ss8OyNX5UOMxszUlgwS1fx16npceI/s1600/Buffalo1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUZjTVSRAYyH-1JiflQquCyRxqAWJwOpdatMHhp3kYK_Hc9M00tzt5k7qC6Is6Uq4wzSdj2Vbpry78u0j87znSZYVSR3xnbFYtZb6LnFG6jSNtP3ss8OyNX5UOMxszUlgwS1fx16npceI/s320/Buffalo1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div> They closed the swimming pool area gate to keep him in and the poor baby kept trying to find his way out.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs5AK2fKrL4EQmUd8wI2EvtTBCK9ykcLgttCLXBGDj08nqDiOY_-DL_-mBTzVCfR6vfRim6QkTtgc4kquvPGMLgHftMY6j7qTY8rj3pSzljxABWIjvKB9UDUL_ywfvikoQUg7rIfwuLXE/s1600/Buffalo2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs5AK2fKrL4EQmUd8wI2EvtTBCK9ykcLgttCLXBGDj08nqDiOY_-DL_-mBTzVCfR6vfRim6QkTtgc4kquvPGMLgHftMY6j7qTY8rj3pSzljxABWIjvKB9UDUL_ywfvikoQUg7rIfwuLXE/s320/Buffalo2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
After a quick photo opt, police were called.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV6WNVkIYhMfKVmkgaSrlDhwO7LfEWWUyZelq41Qbgfa-MPZmVTsupE8Iddz8_d0P8_RrbNX4XzHMRirLYe8ivjCQWNSEN9oCA_zo4aY8dt6yAlAR7n10lSbCV1YD6jtfNBX54s5USDcs/s1600/Buffalo4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV6WNVkIYhMfKVmkgaSrlDhwO7LfEWWUyZelq41Qbgfa-MPZmVTsupE8Iddz8_d0P8_RrbNX4XzHMRirLYe8ivjCQWNSEN9oCA_zo4aY8dt6yAlAR7n10lSbCV1YD6jtfNBX54s5USDcs/s320/Buffalo4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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As it turned out they had been chasing him since 2:00 a.m. Our buffalo belonged to Dr. Melendez, who happens to live on Bryan and 2-mile line across the street from the William Jennings Bryant historical landmark (It's also Krysti Buckley Davis' home.) He had walked down Bryan Road, turned right on 3-mile line and turned into the lane where my brother and sister-in-law live.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhULOMwabdrvz7vHC-lGE5IgF9rz4j4YCF7Oqx1Al3lfRFnndZkom2nrjxbKaWf9a9IDNb9sj_bIe7beW14uBL_-4p79kha-oZCRQTSdUGaDqB_224W38GAg-h0EvpAaUlcMFRd7ouRM1c/s1600/Buffalo5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhULOMwabdrvz7vHC-lGE5IgF9rz4j4YCF7Oqx1Al3lfRFnndZkom2nrjxbKaWf9a9IDNb9sj_bIe7beW14uBL_-4p79kha-oZCRQTSdUGaDqB_224W38GAg-h0EvpAaUlcMFRd7ouRM1c/s320/Buffalo5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Our buffalo, unable to find his way out, jumped the fence and continued to the south side of the yard. (That fence is a little over 4 feet and he jumped it easily...)<br />
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Now comes the sad part of my story. I want to say that he was captured, returned to his home and everyone was happy but that's not what happened. Unfortunately, the peace officers over tranquilized him and he died....and sadly, he was sent to the taxidermist. At this writing I don't know whether only the head will be mounted or the whole body will be stuffed.<br />
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Dr. Melendez is not the only person who has buffalo. There's another family that have about three buffalo roaming their land on Conway near the 2-mile line...so seeing buffalo in Mission is not that unusual.<br />
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Well folks...this is my story and I'm sticking to it....only in Mission!!!Dianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12368376880999951356noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2042152062866520084.post-90812875761251101852011-01-31T12:37:00.000-08:002011-01-31T14:01:14.485-08:00Where were you on these days?November 22, 1963<br />
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Do you remember where you were when Kennedy was assassinated? At the time, I was a sixth grader at Joaquin Castro Elementary. Mr. Pablo Perez, who later got his Ph.D. in Education and became Dr. Pablo Perez, superintendent for McAllen Independent School District in the 90s, was my History teacher.<br />
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It was a strange day.<br />
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In those days, (that sounds so...old) we walked home for lunch and returned within the hour. On that day, my dad was crying when I arrived at home. News of Kennedy's assassination had been televised but I wasn't aware of the news. That was the first time I saw my Dad cry. I remember feeling very sad...I didn't understand and I hadn't quite placed what was happening. It seemed surreal.<br />
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I walked back to school for my next class. I noticed Mr. Perez standing next to this big box. Everyone was ambling in, the noise of shuffling feet, laughter, talking filled the classroom. But Mr. Perez was saying nothing. I approached him and asked him what was wrong. He didn't respond. I thought he was writing names due to the noise when I noticed the box was a tape recorder...and it was recording us. <br />
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"Are you recording us, Mr. Perez?" I asked.<br />
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Still no answer.<br />
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"Guys, guys! Mr. Perez is recording us....Quiet!...Quiet!" <br />
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Zero reaction to my pleas but it wasn't long before the bell rang and Mr. Perez closed the door. He returned back to the tape recorder.<br />
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"Do you know what you sound like when you enter this room?" he asked.<br />
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Well, having it brought to my attention by the taper recorder - we were quite noisy.<br />
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He played our entrance for us, and yes, we were noisy especially me trying to quiet everyone down.. At the time it didn't make sense why he had done that.<br />
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Minutes later he announced to us that President John F. Kennedy had been assassinated and had died at around 1:00 p.m. in Dallas (He was assassinated at 12:30 p.m. but was not pronounced dead until 1:00 p.m. after Catholic rites had been performed). Now I understood my father's tears as several classmates began to cry. He asked us to have a moment of silence. <br />
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You could hear a pin drop. That silence amidst the prior entrance was like night and day. I understood why Mr. Perez had recorded us...it was to teach us the loss of our president on that day by showing us the freedom of our voices - alive and loud...and how our president was silenced that day.<br />
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At the time, I thought we were being recorded to show us that we needed to reign in our enthusiasm as we entered the classroom. Instead he showed me the silence of respect versus the silence of apathy. I am always reminded of that time, that silence every time a crowd is assembled and a moment of silence is requested. Times...they're changing, but differently. It seems the silence of apathy is winning.<br />
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* * *<br />
The Challenger<br />
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Seems strange things always happen. This day was January 28, 1986. I was living in Houston.<br />
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Days before so many things kept going wrong with the shuttle crew. Doors wouldn't close on the shuttle, weather wouldn't cooperate...I just knew they were signs not to take off. More time was needed to check out the shuttle. Weren't the shuttle people getting it? <br />
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But finally the day came. The launch was on. It was early Saturday morning and my close friend, Martha Morales called me on the phone.<br />
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"Are you getting ready to watch the Space Shuttle take off?" she asked.<br />
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"Martha, didn't you see it? It exploded," I exclaimed. (To this day I don't know where that came from but "I knew" it had happened.)<br />
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"Are you ok?...they're getting ready to launch." she retorted.<br />
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"Martha, I saw it explode. It was taking off and then it just exploded." I insisted.<br />
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"Diana, are you in front of the television?" she asked.<br />
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"Well, no, but...I've had it on all this time." I answered.<br />
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I walked to the television, phone in hand. The countdown was just beginning.<br />
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"Martha, I swear." I insisted. "I saw it explode. Everyone was killed!"<br />
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"Watch!" Martha said. "They're about to launch..."<br />
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Martha stood in front of her television and I on mine listening to the countdown...there was lift off...and within seconds...the shuttle exploded.<br />
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"Oh my God! Oh my God!" Martha cried.<br />
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"Oh my God, Martha! It just happened!" I screamed. "Did you see that?" This just can't be I thought. I know I'd saw it before.<br />
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"This can't be. I know I saw it." I insisted. "Maybe this wasn't live."<br />
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There was no mistaking it. The shuttle had indeed exploded over Cape Canaveral, Floria and chunks of the shuttle could be seen with huge puffs of smoke as pieces broke apart. <br />
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It was heart-breaking. Christa McAuliffe's name echoed especially loud.<br />
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In 1992 we moved back to the Valley and settled in McAllen. Being transfers, my daughters were too late to test for the gifted and talented program in the MISD district so they began their first year in the Valley at Jackson Elementary. The following year the two oldest tested and made the GT program. Adri, my middle child, would be attending Christa McAuliffe Elementary on 29th street.<br />
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Life always comes full circle...Dianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12368376880999951356noreply@blogger.com1