Sunday, December 26, 2010 - Heading home to the Valley
Whoa! Last thing we expected after such a wonderful time with my daughters and meeting new friends was meeting head on with a mature javelina. On the last stretch of our much enjoyed trip to Kyle and San Antonio, right between I-37 and 281 (I-59), we encountered a big dark bulk crossing the highway. We had just turned into I-59 for the five mile connection to George West. Ralph was picking up speed...50 - 55 mph in a 65 mph road (it's 70 in the daytime). At first it looked like a big lab crossing the road.
"What is it?" I yelled bracing myself for a hit.
"Can't tell...looks like a big dog." Ralph answered as he gradually angled to the left (We were on the right hand lane.).
Without warning the "big bulk" turned and aimed head on into our van.
Then there was an EXPLOSION! The impact of the animal meeting car was like those big movie scenes when the hurling object makes contact with an oncoming car. In the movies it appears as a slow motion explosion that quickly explodes and then implodes back into stillness. Yes, that's the way it was.
Just then the phone rang, It was Kendra, who was babysitting our home and puppies. "Kendra, we just hit something big on the road!" I quickly told her. "We're pulling over. I'll call you back!"
Ralph pulled over about 50 or so feet from the impact. Ralph walked back a ways on the road.
"Whatever we hit is dead..." Ralph's voice trailed off. "...or injured."
Judging from the smell of our car, it was a wild animal. Yes, we had hit a javelina. There were others that had crossed waiting on the other side.
"I wouldn't get too close." I warned Ralph. "If its hurt it can charge."
Ralph turned around and walked to the front of the car to access our damage. The right half of our bumper was ripped off. Electrical light strings hung out like guts. The right signal light completely gone. Left hanging was a big piece of the back of the bumper stuck between the right-hand tire and the remaining bumper.
Hearing Ralph's description, I jumped out of the car in 41 degree weather (I know this because our van has a built in temperature gauge.) wearing only warm fuzzy booties on my feet...I like to travel comfortably.
IT WAS COLD!!!
Ralph had surmised that the hanging piece of bumper was rubbing on the tire. We needed to tie the piece of bumper back away from the tire, but with what?
We went back into the car and quickly started searching for rope, bumper cables, anything to tie the bumper back so we could go into town and really access our damage in the light. There was nothing except the shoe strings of my walking shoes.
Ralph looked at me. "Looks like we just have your shoe laces." he said.
"Go for it, hon!" I responded. "I can always buy new shoe laces."
My Mr. McGuyver to the rescue. He quickly removed the shoelaces and tied back the piece of bumper. We rolled down the windows to listen for any obstructions noises, hearing none, we drove into George West.
And because the Lord is always watching over us...there was a lone open bay at the first gas station we saw and a mechanic was standing just inside, out of the cold.
We drove up and he approached us.
"We think we just hit a javelina down the road and it's destroyed our bumper." Ralph began. "I tied it back with shoestrings to keep it frm rubbing the tire. So far the car seems to be ok. I just need to be sure."
The mechanic looked at Ralph's handiwork and complimented him.
"Looks like that's holding real well." He noted. "Turn off the heater and lets listen to the motor."
Sure enough, there was a scraping noice coming from behind the fan. The mechanic went back into his shop and returned with a long wire. Well, it was more of a gadget with these three prongs at one end and a button at the other end that controlled the prongs. I had to chuckle. Ralph has one of those at home. It's the gadget I rode him for weeks for purchasing, and the one I've had to swallow number of time each time he has been able to "retrieve" hidden objects from oblivion.
And here was that gadget...I kinda of thought it was God winking at me.
After a few minutes of maneuvering the wire, he emerged victorious with a 3-inch square piece of bumper locked securely in the grip of the three-prong gadget. Gone was the scraping noise.
The mechanic pronounced us safe, said "no charge" and off we were on the road home.
I called our insurance while Ralph drove, and filed a claim arriving safely in McAllen after 10 o'clock.
Our car is now in a stall at Hacienda Ford...a hospital of sorts, being put back together. Oh, and so I don't forget, I did call Kendra back and let her know our arrival time...thank God for GPS's.
Two months ago, our car was parked at Ralph's work. It got hit by an 18 wheeler while trying to back up its load into the loading dock. It cracked the bumper in half. Our bumper had just been replaced two months ago.
I could be down. I could say, "Why me, Lord?" I could be asking God if I should be concerned...you know, is there more down the line???
NOT AT ALL!!
I am so thankful to God for a quick-thinking and creative husband - had he braked or over compensated we could have easily flipped. It could have been worse judging from the size of the animal. I am grateful for the sturdiness of our car for withstanding yet another assault. I am grateful for the lone bay with the kind mechanic at the Shall Station at the Northeast corner of downtown George West. I am grateful for the insurance lady, Deasha, who made everything better. Yes, it's gonna cost us...but God has also provided for that.
God is Great!!!
As for the javelina...I'm sorry for his family, I wished he/she had survived. Without going into any further explanation, had my husband not promised to drive more carefully - we might not be here. I know this creature laid down his/her life to remind me...remind us that God is always with us...in the "smallest" of creatures. Mr./Mrs. Javelina, rest in peace.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Monday, December 27, 2010
A letter of love...
December 25, 2010 - Christ's Birthday
I wish I could have had all my chickies with me but alas it was not meant to be and even though I didn't get to see my oldest, the most beautiful Diana, she sent me a letter along with an assortment of homemade cookies.
I hope she won't mind me sharing this with you...it means so much to me.
Quote -
Dear Family,
I'm so, so disappointed that JAson and I can't be at "the gathering"! I miss all of you so much; and I'm not gonna lie...this holiday season has been pretty tough. Being so far away from all of you is definitely harder than I remember! I wanted to send everyone gifts that fulfilled your every whim but money has been really tight. I know that gifts are not what Christmas is all about, but I do love seeing the smile on all of your faces when you get that special present. I'm hoping that you guys will enjoy these cookies that I baked (I also hope they're not stale!). They were made with lots of love, and I figured they'd be the next best thing since there won't be a "Diana Bake-A-Thon" this year.
To Mom:
I love you so so much! I think of you every day! More and more, I find myself saying...
"My mom taught me..." or "My mom always said..."
Your wisdom and words can get me through the toughest sitution and they bring comfort when all seems hopeless. Thank you for being my coach, my number one fan, and my friend, Mom! I can't wait to see you and Dad in January!!! Lots of hugs and kisses!!!
P.S. - There's some White Chocolate Macadamia Nut Cookies in there for you!!!
To Dad:
It's funny how something as simple as a box of chocolate covered cherries can made me cry; but when I think of how you'd always bring home a box (or 2or 3) at Christmas, I can't help but feel nostalgic.
Do you remember that Christmas when my Secret Santa at school didn't get me anything the whole week leading up to Christmas? I remember feeling so sad, and you came into my room and gave me an early Christmas present - a Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer book. That meant so much to me, Daddy!!! you are always coming to the rescue...
Whether you were filling up our cars with gas, going to the store because were craving cake, or making sure we were where we needed to be ON TIME, you've always been there for us!!! Words can't express how much all those little things mean to me...I love you, Dad!!!
* * *
WE LOVE YOU BABY, AND MISS YOU SO VERY VERY MUCH...I'M COUNTING THE DAYS UNTIL JANUARY.
MOM...
I wish I could have had all my chickies with me but alas it was not meant to be and even though I didn't get to see my oldest, the most beautiful Diana, she sent me a letter along with an assortment of homemade cookies.
I hope she won't mind me sharing this with you...it means so much to me.
Quote -
Dear Family,
I'm so, so disappointed that JAson and I can't be at "the gathering"! I miss all of you so much; and I'm not gonna lie...this holiday season has been pretty tough. Being so far away from all of you is definitely harder than I remember! I wanted to send everyone gifts that fulfilled your every whim but money has been really tight. I know that gifts are not what Christmas is all about, but I do love seeing the smile on all of your faces when you get that special present. I'm hoping that you guys will enjoy these cookies that I baked (I also hope they're not stale!). They were made with lots of love, and I figured they'd be the next best thing since there won't be a "Diana Bake-A-Thon" this year.
To Mom:
I love you so so much! I think of you every day! More and more, I find myself saying...
"My mom taught me..." or "My mom always said..."
Your wisdom and words can get me through the toughest sitution and they bring comfort when all seems hopeless. Thank you for being my coach, my number one fan, and my friend, Mom! I can't wait to see you and Dad in January!!! Lots of hugs and kisses!!!
P.S. - There's some White Chocolate Macadamia Nut Cookies in there for you!!!
To Dad:
It's funny how something as simple as a box of chocolate covered cherries can made me cry; but when I think of how you'd always bring home a box (or 2or 3) at Christmas, I can't help but feel nostalgic.
Do you remember that Christmas when my Secret Santa at school didn't get me anything the whole week leading up to Christmas? I remember feeling so sad, and you came into my room and gave me an early Christmas present - a Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer book. That meant so much to me, Daddy!!! you are always coming to the rescue...
Whether you were filling up our cars with gas, going to the store because were craving cake, or making sure we were where we needed to be ON TIME, you've always been there for us!!! Words can't express how much all those little things mean to me...I love you, Dad!!!
* * *
WE LOVE YOU BABY, AND MISS YOU SO VERY VERY MUCH...I'M COUNTING THE DAYS UNTIL JANUARY.
MOM...
Silent Night
Friday, December 24, 2010 - Christmas Eve
There is something I want you to know, and no, I am not delusional. I believe in Santa Claus. Yes, there is a Santa Claus. Just like the spirit of Jesus Christ exists...so does you know who.
I'm often reminded of Christmas past - yes, another story.
We had just moved to Longview, Texas. The company we were with had declared bankruptcy and another outfit had bought it so we were off to Longview. Diana was 4, Adri 3, and Samantha was 3 months old. I was recovering from having giving birth and Bell's Palsy. Bell's Palsy is a facial paralysis brought on by any one of the following factors:
1. Going from hot to cold environment can trigger it.
2. An ear infection
3. Stress
4. You know the warning our moms would also tell us...never sleep under a fan with wet hair...well, yes that one too.
5. A pregnancy
I unfortunately, had the first three and number five. I actually looked like my face had fallen off the map. But this is another story. The one I'm telling is about our Christmas in Longview, Texas.
It was a difficult time financially. You know, the kind that makes you wonder how you're going to get through and how you're going to provide Christmas to smiling expecting faces.
No matter where I went people starred. I don't blame them. I looked like a monster....unable to close my eye (I had to tape it shut to sleep...my mouth drooping on one end, trying so hard not to drool, and it was painful. But life went on.... This too shall pass but meanwhile, what to do.
I cannot tell you the number of times God has been here for me...for us. Five days before Christmas, this store went bankrupt...everything was 75% off. At the time She-Ra was the popular toy. Her and her defenders of the light and their horses. I was able to purchase the complete entourage along with the horses for pennies on the dollar. My girls had the best Christmas ever.
In fact, it was a topic of discussion at our Christmas celebration. Don't let anyone fool you if they tell you little children don't understand or feel what's happening in a family dynamic. These little ones feel it, too. My daughters remembered.
They remembered that they, in their hearts of hearts, didn't expect anything...and what they got was the best Christmas ever. Santa had not only come to their home...he brought them exactly what they wanted. With She-Ra, Frost, and He-Man (I might have made this last one up) they could fight evil for the good of all mankind. Yes, it was like that.
I had some material I had previously purchase and two days of non-stop sewing (Ralph took over the babysitting) and I was able to make them three dresses for three princesses. (Thanks, mom, for the gift of teaching me to sew!) Christmas morning, my girls put on their pale blue velvet dresses and we were off to celebrate the birth of Jesus at church. We are so blessed!
Santa was here - with all his spirit of goodwill and love.
Yes, it was like that!
* * *
This year we celebrated Christmas at Samantha's home. She's my youngest. It has been a banner year for Samantha. She bought a house, got engaged and received her Masters in Science. She'll be marrying Rory Hastings Oldham on December 10, 2011 in Kyle, Texas at the Old Town Hall. We are very proud and happy for Samantha and Rory.
It was also Samantha's first time to cook a turkey. She was brilliant!....and her Pecan and apple pies weren't too shabby either.
Unable to get pictures up...sorry!
There is something I want you to know, and no, I am not delusional. I believe in Santa Claus. Yes, there is a Santa Claus. Just like the spirit of Jesus Christ exists...so does you know who.
I'm often reminded of Christmas past - yes, another story.
We had just moved to Longview, Texas. The company we were with had declared bankruptcy and another outfit had bought it so we were off to Longview. Diana was 4, Adri 3, and Samantha was 3 months old. I was recovering from having giving birth and Bell's Palsy. Bell's Palsy is a facial paralysis brought on by any one of the following factors:
1. Going from hot to cold environment can trigger it.
2. An ear infection
3. Stress
4. You know the warning our moms would also tell us...never sleep under a fan with wet hair...well, yes that one too.
5. A pregnancy
I unfortunately, had the first three and number five. I actually looked like my face had fallen off the map. But this is another story. The one I'm telling is about our Christmas in Longview, Texas.
It was a difficult time financially. You know, the kind that makes you wonder how you're going to get through and how you're going to provide Christmas to smiling expecting faces.
No matter where I went people starred. I don't blame them. I looked like a monster....unable to close my eye (I had to tape it shut to sleep...my mouth drooping on one end, trying so hard not to drool, and it was painful. But life went on.... This too shall pass but meanwhile, what to do.
I cannot tell you the number of times God has been here for me...for us. Five days before Christmas, this store went bankrupt...everything was 75% off. At the time She-Ra was the popular toy. Her and her defenders of the light and their horses. I was able to purchase the complete entourage along with the horses for pennies on the dollar. My girls had the best Christmas ever.
In fact, it was a topic of discussion at our Christmas celebration. Don't let anyone fool you if they tell you little children don't understand or feel what's happening in a family dynamic. These little ones feel it, too. My daughters remembered.
They remembered that they, in their hearts of hearts, didn't expect anything...and what they got was the best Christmas ever. Santa had not only come to their home...he brought them exactly what they wanted. With She-Ra, Frost, and He-Man (I might have made this last one up) they could fight evil for the good of all mankind. Yes, it was like that.
I had some material I had previously purchase and two days of non-stop sewing (Ralph took over the babysitting) and I was able to make them three dresses for three princesses. (Thanks, mom, for the gift of teaching me to sew!) Christmas morning, my girls put on their pale blue velvet dresses and we were off to celebrate the birth of Jesus at church. We are so blessed!
Santa was here - with all his spirit of goodwill and love.
Yes, it was like that!
* * *
This year we celebrated Christmas at Samantha's home. She's my youngest. It has been a banner year for Samantha. She bought a house, got engaged and received her Masters in Science. She'll be marrying Rory Hastings Oldham on December 10, 2011 in Kyle, Texas at the Old Town Hall. We are very proud and happy for Samantha and Rory.
It was also Samantha's first time to cook a turkey. She was brilliant!....and her Pecan and apple pies weren't too shabby either.
Unable to get pictures up...sorry!
Thursday, December 16, 2010
The Last day of Advent
Sunday, December 12 - the last day of Advent. I feel totally different from the first day...I hope it's a sign of good things to come.
Ralph and I worked on Mom's home today. We trimmed the trees and put up Christmas lights for her. It made her very happy.
It was a beautiful morning. The air was cool and crisp.
Today is the last day of Advent...and I have much to celebrate.
Advent has always been special to me. Its during this season that I like to "shake" off the excess stuff. It's no secret that depression has come and gone several times in my life. It's hereditary. I have to thank my God for seeing me through those low times; It has been during the Advent season when He's brought me out of those hard times.
I was reminded of one Advent that changed me forever.
It was the last day in November, 1996. For Advent, I have given each of my daughters a small wooden Easter egg left over from Easter. The little wooden egg is no bigger than an inch. They are to keep it with them 24/7. At any given time, when asked by their father or me, they must produce the tiny egg. This little egg represents Jesus Christ. The purpose is to bring to their attention the many distractions life throws our way and how we need to keep alive the thought of Christ in our hearts and minds.
It was an interesting experiment. By the sixth day, they became aware how easily they misplaced the tiny egg. So I decided to broaden the task. I wanted to know if they could be self sufficient and able to take care of themselves by themselves. How prepared were they? I don't know what made me decide to do this. At the time, Diana was 15, Adri, 13, and Sam was 10. Each girl did well. Without knowing, their preparation would be put to the test.
Two weeks later, on New Year's Eve at about 11:00 p.m., I rushed Ralph to McAllen Regional Hospital in severe pain. Ralph had acute pancreatitus and was admitted into the hospital shortly before midnight. I couldn't believe the sequence of events. One minute we were going to celebrate the New Year and next thing I knew, Ralph was was shutting down...his organs were shutting down.
I remember standing by the big picture window in Ralph's hospital room looking out over a cold, misty rainy McAllen. The New Year siren sounded. I prayed and asked God to please send the right doctors to help Ralph and to give me the strength to see us through this unexpected challenge. I thanked Him and welcomed the new year.
The next day I was introduced to two doctors, newly arrived from the Mayo Clinic in Arizona, who would be taking care of Ralph. I owe everything to them. Let me explain.
The second night, my brother-in-law volunteered to stay with Ralph overnight. The next day Ralph looked worse than ever. It seems my brother-in-law watched basketball the entire night. Ralph couldn't sleep. The next night, one of three sister-in-laws stayed with Ralph and me. Her entire conversation consisted of how many relatives we had already lost in the last few days. Five by her count. She was afraid Ralph was next.
My mom didn't help either. She was worried as to how I was going to raise three girls...alone.
Day 3, and the second sister-in-law covered the night watch. The next day I was presented with a notebook containing a diary of everything that was done and not done plus things to question. She did not like the doctors.
My sister-in-law wanted me to get new doctors.
I said no.
She said, "If my brother dies, it will be on your head. It will be your fault."
It looked bleak. Where to turn? Luckily, I was not alone...Dr. Ozcelebi asked me to be strong.
"It will get worse before it gets better." he said. "One organ will fail but another will respond. Don't believe what you see or hear."
"Okay," I said, "but I need your help. Is it possible for you to keep my husband from receiving visitors including his family? Only his father and his middle sister are allowed."
He blocked visitors for Ralph and phone calls. For the next seven days, I'd stay 23 hours at the hospital, go home for an hour, bathe and take groceries home and make sure my daughters were well.
The Twelve Days of Advent preparation was exactly what was needed. My daughters were prepared. My girls continued to go to school, keep up with their school work and a functioning home. One less thing to worry about.
For seven days it was just my daughters and me, counting on each other, praying, being strong.
Ralph was not improving. On the eleventh day we got bad news. Dr. Ozcelibi thought it might be a good idea to prepare my daughters for the worst - their dad may not be coming home.
I was in shock. This was the last thing I expected to hear. So I went home, bearing terrible news.
My daughters were busy getting supper ready when I arrived. I asked them to stop. I needed to talk to them. They stopped what they were doing and walked into the living room.
I explained to them that it wasn't looking good and Daddy may not make it.
"We won't know how long...," I told them.
Diana, my oldest, spoke first.
"Mom, Daddy's going to be okay. He's just off on a business trip. He'll be home soon. Don't worry."
"Yeah, mom," the other girls chimed in. "He'll be home soon..."
I sat there stunned, their faces showing me what I needed to see, then I said, "You know girls, you're right. Daddy is just on a business trip."
We talk about having faith...my daughters showed me how to walk it.
I returned to the hospital. Slapped my husband in the face and told him he was not going anywhere. Of course, Ralph didn't know where he was much less what was happening to him, but he opened his eyes wide for the first time in twelve days. I became his nurse. I shaved his face, cut his hair and bathed him (I'm sorry but the nurses were overbooked!) Ralph hadn't eaten anything for 12 days now, just ice chips. The doctor's had to install a feeding tube that's when they found out he had blockage in his liver. They cleared that and slowly Ralph came back to us. By day 18 he was out of the woods.
Faith. It took faith to bring him home.
This is the bond I share with my daughters - this belief in God - faith strong enough to believe in what is not seen. I know why I have my daughters in my life
so many things...
This has been an outstanding Advent Season.
We'll be spending Christmas at my daughter's and Rory's new home. My family is growing.
This was the first Holiday Season with lots of changes - getting used to my Dad being gone. My daughters are gone from home and my oldest is unable to come home for the holidays but we still have days before Christmas and you never know... But I am so lucky to be alive, to have the husband I have, the children of my heart, family and friends I can count on.
Merry Christmas and May God Bless....
(Thank you to all my friends for their kind thoughts and words. It's getting better everyday...)
Ralph and I worked on Mom's home today. We trimmed the trees and put up Christmas lights for her. It made her very happy.
 | |
| My mom's home. |
It was a beautiful morning. The air was cool and crisp.
Today is the last day of Advent...and I have much to celebrate.
Advent has always been special to me. Its during this season that I like to "shake" off the excess stuff. It's no secret that depression has come and gone several times in my life. It's hereditary. I have to thank my God for seeing me through those low times; It has been during the Advent season when He's brought me out of those hard times.
I was reminded of one Advent that changed me forever.
It was the last day in November, 1996. For Advent, I have given each of my daughters a small wooden Easter egg left over from Easter. The little wooden egg is no bigger than an inch. They are to keep it with them 24/7. At any given time, when asked by their father or me, they must produce the tiny egg. This little egg represents Jesus Christ. The purpose is to bring to their attention the many distractions life throws our way and how we need to keep alive the thought of Christ in our hearts and minds.
It was an interesting experiment. By the sixth day, they became aware how easily they misplaced the tiny egg. So I decided to broaden the task. I wanted to know if they could be self sufficient and able to take care of themselves by themselves. How prepared were they? I don't know what made me decide to do this. At the time, Diana was 15, Adri, 13, and Sam was 10. Each girl did well. Without knowing, their preparation would be put to the test.
Two weeks later, on New Year's Eve at about 11:00 p.m., I rushed Ralph to McAllen Regional Hospital in severe pain. Ralph had acute pancreatitus and was admitted into the hospital shortly before midnight. I couldn't believe the sequence of events. One minute we were going to celebrate the New Year and next thing I knew, Ralph was was shutting down...his organs were shutting down.
I remember standing by the big picture window in Ralph's hospital room looking out over a cold, misty rainy McAllen. The New Year siren sounded. I prayed and asked God to please send the right doctors to help Ralph and to give me the strength to see us through this unexpected challenge. I thanked Him and welcomed the new year.
The next day I was introduced to two doctors, newly arrived from the Mayo Clinic in Arizona, who would be taking care of Ralph. I owe everything to them. Let me explain.
The second night, my brother-in-law volunteered to stay with Ralph overnight. The next day Ralph looked worse than ever. It seems my brother-in-law watched basketball the entire night. Ralph couldn't sleep. The next night, one of three sister-in-laws stayed with Ralph and me. Her entire conversation consisted of how many relatives we had already lost in the last few days. Five by her count. She was afraid Ralph was next.
My mom didn't help either. She was worried as to how I was going to raise three girls...alone.
Day 3, and the second sister-in-law covered the night watch. The next day I was presented with a notebook containing a diary of everything that was done and not done plus things to question. She did not like the doctors.
My sister-in-law wanted me to get new doctors.
I said no.
She said, "If my brother dies, it will be on your head. It will be your fault."
It looked bleak. Where to turn? Luckily, I was not alone...Dr. Ozcelebi asked me to be strong.
"It will get worse before it gets better." he said. "One organ will fail but another will respond. Don't believe what you see or hear."
"Okay," I said, "but I need your help. Is it possible for you to keep my husband from receiving visitors including his family? Only his father and his middle sister are allowed."
He blocked visitors for Ralph and phone calls. For the next seven days, I'd stay 23 hours at the hospital, go home for an hour, bathe and take groceries home and make sure my daughters were well.
The Twelve Days of Advent preparation was exactly what was needed. My daughters were prepared. My girls continued to go to school, keep up with their school work and a functioning home. One less thing to worry about.
For seven days it was just my daughters and me, counting on each other, praying, being strong.
Ralph was not improving. On the eleventh day we got bad news. Dr. Ozcelibi thought it might be a good idea to prepare my daughters for the worst - their dad may not be coming home.
I was in shock. This was the last thing I expected to hear. So I went home, bearing terrible news.
My daughters were busy getting supper ready when I arrived. I asked them to stop. I needed to talk to them. They stopped what they were doing and walked into the living room.
I explained to them that it wasn't looking good and Daddy may not make it.
"We won't know how long...," I told them.
Diana, my oldest, spoke first.
"Mom, Daddy's going to be okay. He's just off on a business trip. He'll be home soon. Don't worry."
"Yeah, mom," the other girls chimed in. "He'll be home soon..."
I sat there stunned, their faces showing me what I needed to see, then I said, "You know girls, you're right. Daddy is just on a business trip."
We talk about having faith...my daughters showed me how to walk it.
I returned to the hospital. Slapped my husband in the face and told him he was not going anywhere. Of course, Ralph didn't know where he was much less what was happening to him, but he opened his eyes wide for the first time in twelve days. I became his nurse. I shaved his face, cut his hair and bathed him (I'm sorry but the nurses were overbooked!) Ralph hadn't eaten anything for 12 days now, just ice chips. The doctor's had to install a feeding tube that's when they found out he had blockage in his liver. They cleared that and slowly Ralph came back to us. By day 18 he was out of the woods.
Faith. It took faith to bring him home.
This is the bond I share with my daughters - this belief in God - faith strong enough to believe in what is not seen. I know why I have my daughters in my life
so many things...
This has been an outstanding Advent Season.
We'll be spending Christmas at my daughter's and Rory's new home. My family is growing.
This was the first Holiday Season with lots of changes - getting used to my Dad being gone. My daughters are gone from home and my oldest is unable to come home for the holidays but we still have days before Christmas and you never know... But I am so lucky to be alive, to have the husband I have, the children of my heart, family and friends I can count on.
Merry Christmas and May God Bless....
(Thank you to all my friends for their kind thoughts and words. It's getting better everyday...)
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Veteran's Honored
This was a total detour...
My mom got a letter in the mail letting her know that there would be a wreath ceremony on Saturday, December 11th at 11:00 a.m. at the Rio Grande Valley State Veteran's Cemetary. It was the 4th Annual Wreaths Across America laying of wreaths, placing over 100,000 wreaths on veteran's graves simultaneously at 300 locations across the United States and overseas.
It was the first I heard of it.
This has been a rather auspicious event. I have been mourning my father and I was using Advent to empty the grief I've been carrying or at least as much as I could in preparation of Jesus Christ's birth.
Ralph and I attended with my mom.
The day was semi-windy, perfect to hold up the weight of this magnificent flag.
It was well attended...
even Uncle Sam came.
While waiting my cousin, Joe and his family arrived. His youngest daughter was celebrating her 14th birthday that day. My Aunt Estella and my cousin Lisa were there too, honoring my Uncle Joe Corpus. Lisa graciously gave up her seat so my mom could sit down. Thanks, Lisa!
The procession began with riders from the South Texas Patriot Guard Riders and American Legion Riders escorting the trailer containing the wreaths.
Congressman Juan "Chuy" Hinojosa spoke to the crowd. Reminded all of us of the sacrifice our veterans gave yesterday, today, and tomorrow. He remembered Walter, Terry Lankford's brother...it made me smile. (No matter where I go, I will inevitably run into an "MHS-Class of 70" moment or classmate.)
There was a 21 gun salute and high school ROTC platoon helped family members place wreaths at the veterans's gravesites. I got to place a wreath on my Dad's grave.
* * * *
Dad's been walking with me these last eleven days. I have cried more in these few days than in any period of my life. I finally figured it out. As hard as I tried to communicate with my father when I was younger - it always ended with "that's the way I am." It was hard to understand him, it made it harder to understand me.
And as hard as I tried forgiving, it became obvious, I had not. It wasn't until that last hour when we both knew there was no turning back. He asked me to forgive him. Everything seemed so transparent and suddenly I heard myself saying, "It's ok, Daddy. There's nothing to forgive." And that's when I realized...whatever stood between us was gone. Daddy looked straight into my eyes and I saw into my Dad's heart, and I knew I had a place...but now Daddy was gone.
Sadness fills me when I think of all the wasted time. I had tried so many times and thought at times I had succeeded in having the communication of a lifetime with my father. But each time it would go right back to the "way I am." I hadn't understood.
Now, it will have to be in spirit. I can still enjoy that love and forgiveness. I still miss you very much, Daddy.
* * * *
So this was the great detour....detours are like that. That's when God does what he does best. These last eleven days of Advent have been good. Advent has always been a time of focus for me. It is again.
Thanks to the Wreaths Across America for honoring my dad, Guadalupe Corpus and my Uncle Joe Corpus and all the veterans that rest at this beautiful resting place...and thanks to the veterans and their families for their sacrifices.
(I've been in a fog and slow blogging but it's getting better.)
My mom got a letter in the mail letting her know that there would be a wreath ceremony on Saturday, December 11th at 11:00 a.m. at the Rio Grande Valley State Veteran's Cemetary. It was the 4th Annual Wreaths Across America laying of wreaths, placing over 100,000 wreaths on veteran's graves simultaneously at 300 locations across the United States and overseas.
It was the first I heard of it.
This has been a rather auspicious event. I have been mourning my father and I was using Advent to empty the grief I've been carrying or at least as much as I could in preparation of Jesus Christ's birth.
Ralph and I attended with my mom.
The day was semi-windy, perfect to hold up the weight of this magnificent flag.
It was well attended...
even Uncle Sam came.
While waiting my cousin, Joe and his family arrived. His youngest daughter was celebrating her 14th birthday that day. My Aunt Estella and my cousin Lisa were there too, honoring my Uncle Joe Corpus. Lisa graciously gave up her seat so my mom could sit down. Thanks, Lisa!
The procession began with riders from the South Texas Patriot Guard Riders and American Legion Riders escorting the trailer containing the wreaths.
Congressman Juan "Chuy" Hinojosa spoke to the crowd. Reminded all of us of the sacrifice our veterans gave yesterday, today, and tomorrow. He remembered Walter, Terry Lankford's brother...it made me smile. (No matter where I go, I will inevitably run into an "MHS-Class of 70" moment or classmate.)
 |
There was a 21 gun salute and high school ROTC platoon helped family members place wreaths at the veterans's gravesites. I got to place a wreath on my Dad's grave.
* * * *
Dad's been walking with me these last eleven days. I have cried more in these few days than in any period of my life. I finally figured it out. As hard as I tried to communicate with my father when I was younger - it always ended with "that's the way I am." It was hard to understand him, it made it harder to understand me.
And as hard as I tried forgiving, it became obvious, I had not. It wasn't until that last hour when we both knew there was no turning back. He asked me to forgive him. Everything seemed so transparent and suddenly I heard myself saying, "It's ok, Daddy. There's nothing to forgive." And that's when I realized...whatever stood between us was gone. Daddy looked straight into my eyes and I saw into my Dad's heart, and I knew I had a place...but now Daddy was gone.
Sadness fills me when I think of all the wasted time. I had tried so many times and thought at times I had succeeded in having the communication of a lifetime with my father. But each time it would go right back to the "way I am." I hadn't understood.
Now, it will have to be in spirit. I can still enjoy that love and forgiveness. I still miss you very much, Daddy.
* * * *
So this was the great detour....detours are like that. That's when God does what he does best. These last eleven days of Advent have been good. Advent has always been a time of focus for me. It is again.
Thanks to the Wreaths Across America for honoring my dad, Guadalupe Corpus and my Uncle Joe Corpus and all the veterans that rest at this beautiful resting place...and thanks to the veterans and their families for their sacrifices.
(I've been in a fog and slow blogging but it's getting better.)
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Advent
Although it's already December 8th...I started my Advent on December 1st...
I miss my dad.
December 1, 2010 - First day of Advent
I've been under the weather for quite some time, almost a month now. Allergies have taken over. It seems it's getting worse every year but this time, truth be told, I welcome the side-splitting pain I get each time I cough, and the throat-choking battle for air, which so far I have won.
You see, I don't know what it is but I feel broken. Not body broken, but in spirit. My spirit is hurting for my father. My dad made his transition, June 11, 2010. I didn't know I would miss him as much as I do. It's nothing I can put my finger on; it's just an ache, accompanied by tears, then laughter. Shortly thereafter, a peacefulness ensues only to repeat the cycle again at the next memory. Each day comes and goes but my father's memory lingers the strongest amongst the hacking and sleepless nights.
Daddy would always pray over me when I was sick. He would sit by my bed and hold a glass of water and pray. When he finished his prayers he would hand me the glass of water to drink. It was the best water, filled with all the love a father's prayer could fill. Somehow, the next morning, I was always better.
So it's no surprise I haven't been on FaceBook; farming and bejeweling has also taken a back seat to my illness. But luckily friends send me notes, telling me they miss me, or call so I make more of an effort to join my farm/friend community...and I did. Thank God for friends...
I was behind on one of my farms - you have to complete quests every 3 - 4 days and I was one hour of losing another quest. I sent out a request for whatever it was I needing and within fifteen minutes, friends came through with the final four items I needed. Then I couldn't get back into Frontier Ville. I tried every which way. I closed my browser and cleared my cache, but Frontier Ville wouldn't load. I don't know how long I was at it but it was obvious I took too long when a screen came on telling me I had missed the deadline.
I had failed my quest.
Normally, I would have been agitated (at least) for not completing my quest but this time it didn't.
I stepped back and looked at FaceBook instead and found myself counting my blessings. I have friends here at home, in my neighborhood, my church, from school. But on FaceBook, I get to see them (and their families) and what they're up to. It's wonderful! Without going anywhere, in one moment, I can see my world, rolling along, laughing, growing, learning, sharing with those I hold dear in my hear and with new friends I hope to meet one day.
It made me reflect on the Advent Season - a season of preparing - a place for our Lord in our home and welcome him into our hearts. What was I preparing?
It made me reflect on my Dad. So I wrote my dad a letter:
I love you, Daddy
Diana
(Daddy wasn't perfect. There was a lot of hurt and even though I took moments throughout the years to address my hurt, whether imagined or real, there was much still unresolved. On the hour of my father's death, it was forgiven, and forever burned away. God is great.)
My Dad prayed every Friday for the last 35 years plus for all the people he knew that had passed away. Each time another friend, or family member or even acquaintances, they were added to the list. It contained hundreds of names. It was the last thing he asked for that Friday morning my Dad said goodbye.
My friends will forgive me if I don't go fertilize their crops on FV, Frontier Ville, and FT. I'd like to think love does that...go beyond. This last mini quest taught me - people are faithful, all you have to do is reach out and ask...just don't take too long. Time can run out and it's hard to get back in.
On this day as I begin my daily quest, as I light the first Advent candle of the season...it's time, I still have time, to go forward and prepare a place here...now.
Advent Season: The first 12 days of December
Advent: The time to listen for footsteps - you can't hear footsteps when you're running yourself.
-Bill McKibben
* * * * *
Note: I realize my blog is a bit outdated. Had to start over quite a few times...blogger wasn't working properly but it's back now.
I miss my dad.
December 1, 2010 - First day of Advent
I've been under the weather for quite some time, almost a month now. Allergies have taken over. It seems it's getting worse every year but this time, truth be told, I welcome the side-splitting pain I get each time I cough, and the throat-choking battle for air, which so far I have won.
You see, I don't know what it is but I feel broken. Not body broken, but in spirit. My spirit is hurting for my father. My dad made his transition, June 11, 2010. I didn't know I would miss him as much as I do. It's nothing I can put my finger on; it's just an ache, accompanied by tears, then laughter. Shortly thereafter, a peacefulness ensues only to repeat the cycle again at the next memory. Each day comes and goes but my father's memory lingers the strongest amongst the hacking and sleepless nights.
Daddy would always pray over me when I was sick. He would sit by my bed and hold a glass of water and pray. When he finished his prayers he would hand me the glass of water to drink. It was the best water, filled with all the love a father's prayer could fill. Somehow, the next morning, I was always better.
So it's no surprise I haven't been on FaceBook; farming and bejeweling has also taken a back seat to my illness. But luckily friends send me notes, telling me they miss me, or call so I make more of an effort to join my farm/friend community...and I did. Thank God for friends...
I was behind on one of my farms - you have to complete quests every 3 - 4 days and I was one hour of losing another quest. I sent out a request for whatever it was I needing and within fifteen minutes, friends came through with the final four items I needed. Then I couldn't get back into Frontier Ville. I tried every which way. I closed my browser and cleared my cache, but Frontier Ville wouldn't load. I don't know how long I was at it but it was obvious I took too long when a screen came on telling me I had missed the deadline.
I had failed my quest.
Normally, I would have been agitated (at least) for not completing my quest but this time it didn't.
I stepped back and looked at FaceBook instead and found myself counting my blessings. I have friends here at home, in my neighborhood, my church, from school. But on FaceBook, I get to see them (and their families) and what they're up to. It's wonderful! Without going anywhere, in one moment, I can see my world, rolling along, laughing, growing, learning, sharing with those I hold dear in my hear and with new friends I hope to meet one day.
It made me reflect on the Advent Season - a season of preparing - a place for our Lord in our home and welcome him into our hearts. What was I preparing?
It made me reflect on my Dad. So I wrote my dad a letter:
Letting you go Daddy, has been very hard but I am happy for you. I saw you in those last days in lots of pain, more pain than you could handle. I heard you asking God if it was time yet...I don't know for sure but in that moment, I imagine you heard our Lord's voice call your name and you knew. It was time to let go of us...and you did. I am in awe because I knew without a shadow of a doubt, you, my father was in my Father's presence. And it saddens me, Daddy, because I can't honestly say whether I know I'll be as welcomed as you...and maybe that's why I cry...because I don't know.
I love you, Daddy
Diana
(Daddy wasn't perfect. There was a lot of hurt and even though I took moments throughout the years to address my hurt, whether imagined or real, there was much still unresolved. On the hour of my father's death, it was forgiven, and forever burned away. God is great.)
Guadalupe Corpus
March 20, 1919 - June 11, 2010
My Dad prayed every Friday for the last 35 years plus for all the people he knew that had passed away. Each time another friend, or family member or even acquaintances, they were added to the list. It contained hundreds of names. It was the last thing he asked for that Friday morning my Dad said goodbye.
My friends will forgive me if I don't go fertilize their crops on FV, Frontier Ville, and FT. I'd like to think love does that...go beyond. This last mini quest taught me - people are faithful, all you have to do is reach out and ask...just don't take too long. Time can run out and it's hard to get back in.
On this day as I begin my daily quest, as I light the first Advent candle of the season...it's time, I still have time, to go forward and prepare a place here...now.
Advent Season: The first 12 days of December
Advent: The time to listen for footsteps - you can't hear footsteps when you're running yourself.
-Bill McKibben
* * * * *
Note: I realize my blog is a bit outdated. Had to start over quite a few times...blogger wasn't working properly but it's back now.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Losses
This has not been a good year on so many levels. I feel like the announcer on the night of the Oscar's when they have a montage of all the actors that made their transition this last year, 2010.
The new year started and Johnny Jimenez (MHS-Class of 69), husband to our classmate, Cita Garza (MHS-Class of 70), was the first this year, January 4th. Then it was Gilbert Esqueda (MHS-Class of 70), both unexpected, but then death, although inevitable is rarely expected. It started a discussion among our living classmates as to how many classmates we had lost to date. It was discovered there were more than the 23 that we knew about.
Then everything shifted and for many of us, it's been a total change, something others had already gone through but for our small group of friends - we're walking in unknown waters and its been uncomfortably repetitious. I'm talking about the loss of a parent.
We are some of the lucky ones...whose parent or parents have lived long past our other classmates' parents, well into their 80s and some into their 90s. Now, they're leaving us, too.
Even though many parents are no longer with us, I look around and I see them all in and around Mission, the homes they built, lived in, the work they accomplished. For some...the children they raised, the city they built and a community they filled with purpose and pride.
This is the year my father passed on...June 11, 2010. I'm still trying to wrap my head round this. I still expect to find him at home sitting in his rocker, strumming on his guitar, or reading a book. Or calling only to find him at the voting polls. I can only imagine what others in the same situation experience but regardless of your relationship with your parents - you're going to miss them.
This last week, Diana Flores Alcocer, lost her mom Wednesday night, November 3, 2010. Mrs. Rufina Flores fought a mighty though brief battle with cancer. Mrs. Flores had the sweetest smile, something she offered freely and often. There was a girlish innocence about her that never left her, but don't push her because the lioness side of her would emerge...the same fierceness that she protected her children with. Rudy was a volunteer at the Texas Citrus Fiesta for almost 13 years. We're going to miss you, Mrs. Flores.
Sadly, another classmate, Joe Alvarez (MHS-Class of 70) passed away on Wednesday, October 27th. May he rest in peace.
This is turning into a mishmash of thoughts much the way my brain has been behaving lately, but it does make me reflect. So much so but it all boils down to one thought...our own mortality.
We are merely actors on our own stage called earth. Acting out the play we have written and dictated to the universe. The lucky ones realize we can reverse or rewrite our own story's ending. It's the voices that surround us that compel. Is your cup half full or half empty? Who comforts you? Who appreciates you? Better yet, whom do you appreciate and do they know it?
The times, yes, they are different...but loving, birth, and dying...those things stay the same.
The new year started and Johnny Jimenez (MHS-Class of 69), husband to our classmate, Cita Garza (MHS-Class of 70), was the first this year, January 4th. Then it was Gilbert Esqueda (MHS-Class of 70), both unexpected, but then death, although inevitable is rarely expected. It started a discussion among our living classmates as to how many classmates we had lost to date. It was discovered there were more than the 23 that we knew about.
Then everything shifted and for many of us, it's been a total change, something others had already gone through but for our small group of friends - we're walking in unknown waters and its been uncomfortably repetitious. I'm talking about the loss of a parent.
We are some of the lucky ones...whose parent or parents have lived long past our other classmates' parents, well into their 80s and some into their 90s. Now, they're leaving us, too.
Even though many parents are no longer with us, I look around and I see them all in and around Mission, the homes they built, lived in, the work they accomplished. For some...the children they raised, the city they built and a community they filled with purpose and pride.
This is the year my father passed on...June 11, 2010. I'm still trying to wrap my head round this. I still expect to find him at home sitting in his rocker, strumming on his guitar, or reading a book. Or calling only to find him at the voting polls. I can only imagine what others in the same situation experience but regardless of your relationship with your parents - you're going to miss them.
This last week, Diana Flores Alcocer, lost her mom Wednesday night, November 3, 2010. Mrs. Rufina Flores fought a mighty though brief battle with cancer. Mrs. Flores had the sweetest smile, something she offered freely and often. There was a girlish innocence about her that never left her, but don't push her because the lioness side of her would emerge...the same fierceness that she protected her children with. Rudy was a volunteer at the Texas Citrus Fiesta for almost 13 years. We're going to miss you, Mrs. Flores.
Sadly, another classmate, Joe Alvarez (MHS-Class of 70) passed away on Wednesday, October 27th. May he rest in peace.
This is turning into a mishmash of thoughts much the way my brain has been behaving lately, but it does make me reflect. So much so but it all boils down to one thought...our own mortality.
We are merely actors on our own stage called earth. Acting out the play we have written and dictated to the universe. The lucky ones realize we can reverse or rewrite our own story's ending. It's the voices that surround us that compel. Is your cup half full or half empty? Who comforts you? Who appreciates you? Better yet, whom do you appreciate and do they know it?
The times, yes, they are different...but loving, birth, and dying...those things stay the same.
Reflection on Life
by Diana Corpus Garza
It’s not about the work.
It’s about what goes in it.
The time,
the care,
the love,
the touch.
An opportunity to be a part
Of everything,
this earth,
the sky,
the cross.
The words,
The sound
the passion,
compassion,
the heart.
The sound.
The music.
the movement,
the rhythm,
of life.
I imagine the opposite, of what it could be
A world of silence
No feeling
No change
No ability to see.
But to wander only in observation
Not make it a part of me.
No smiles,
No laughter,
No tears.
No miracles to witness
Of wonder,
No emotion,
in awe
of angels.
So while I’m here part of this earth
Pushes me to awaken
Drive myself to accomplish
and hope…..(sigh)
I get it right.
* * *
Thursday, November 4, 2010
What rules you?
Jane De Leon Barratachea and I drove around our old neighborhood a while back. While driving around I took photos of my neighborhood church...
These are my memories.
My schooling was injected with Catholicism, nuns, priests, parents, family and friends. The message I got from my parents was do what the teacher tells you. My parents had no clue what Catholic nuns told their students. My parents totally trusted the nuns and Father Delaney.
My second grade year (I was seven.), I participated in a raffle contest at our neighborhood church, Holy Rosary. Whoever sold the most raffle tickets (a first prize electric coffee percolator) would get to crown the Blessed Mother on her feast day. Well, I won fair and square but I wouldn't be the one to crown the Blessed Mother. I hadn't made my first communion. Conchita, the church catechist, assured Father Delaney that I knew all my prayers and knew all the requirements necessary to make my first communion. I knew all the rules. But Father Delaney wouldn't budge...it would be better if I made my first communion with my class at OLG, he said...and that was that (there's a first communion picture in one of my other blogs). Guess Father Delaney had his rules.
There were 15 girls dressed in light blue and pink tulle dresses led by two angels...I was one of the angels...
I was robbed....
NOTE: This is Christina and me. I wanted to show you a picture of one of the dresses the 15 attendants wore. Christina lived two houses down from me and was being raised by her grandmother, Dona Sophia. Christina was my best friend... Ok, this is trivia but just wanted to share this. I named my daughter Diana Christina without realizing it... And my niece, Karla, named her daughter, Sophia. Who knew???..
Back to the story...
Ok - it wasn't fair. Did I break a rule? I don't think so...but it started me questioning a lot of things.
By the third grade, this thing about following rules was IMPORTANT. But where were these rules and who wrote them?
It didn't help when my teacher, Sister Regis compared my gibberish conversation with Ricky Casas (who sat behind me in class) to Adam and Eve's sin in the garden. I remember looking up at the picture of Adam and Eve (who had nothing on but fig leaves to cover them) being thrown out of the garden because she had eaten an apple...and then at Ricky and me....Adam and Eve....Ricky and me.., and I honestly couldn't see the connection but obviously to Sister Regis we had committed an egregious sin, punishable by being made to sit under her desk, in the heat smothered by her nun garb.
Later that same year yet another disagreement took place with my mom and Fr. Delaney...but this one proved fatal... We were withdrawn from OLG and it was public schools from here on in.
I've told this story before because Sister Regis' act of condemnation haunted me for many years...after all wasn't she the "church" representative... I thought I must be horrible...beyond salvation.
Now I'm 10 years old...and it's not getting better. Lets see, I did confuse tuna with eating meat on Friday and that got me a stern talking to from the priest. But the sin that really got the priest's attention was my reason for missing catholic doctrine after school. I explained to him how I was in band (which was true) and I had to walk home with my instrument which was heavy (that was true, too), all the way from junior high and by the time I walked home it was too late for doctrine (definitely true). But it wasn't good enough. I broke a rule; Thou shall not miss doctrine.
Well, that just wouldn't do, he said. He declared my sins unforgivable. Whoa! I didn't know what to do. My sins couldn't be forgiven? I was doomed. I mean really doomed. I did what any 10 year-old, scared out of her wits would do; I started crying. Well, the priest didn't know what to do, maybe he pushed a little too much - either way he gave up and forgave my sins...
So it made me question.... Would Jesus really deny forgiving my sins? Anyone's sins? I didn't think so. So where did this priest get off using such a power on an innocent child (me)? I'm sure he will have that discussion upon his entrance to the pearly gates...wonder how he'll feel if God says to him...sorry can't forgive your sins so you can't come in.
So that's my story and I'm sticking to it...
It seems to me everyone has different rules. Some people think they can bully you into believing their way is the only way. Or emotionally blackmail you or use fear, never once thinking that what they're doing is in anyway wrong. These people stopped listening a long time ago, sadly, and stopped growing along the way.
My daughter Diana, taught me something a long time ago...it was, she said, not my job to make sure these people learned their lesson - it was up to God. After all God was not going to be saying to me - on the day of my departure - "Thank you Diana for taking care of my problem with so and so...I couldn't have done it without you." The only thing he asks of me is to forgive and to love....so I do. It's so much more fun!
Until next time...
These are my memories.
Our Lady of Guadalupe Catholic School
My schooling was injected with Catholicism, nuns, priests, parents, family and friends. The message I got from my parents was do what the teacher tells you. My parents had no clue what Catholic nuns told their students. My parents totally trusted the nuns and Father Delaney.
My second grade year (I was seven.), I participated in a raffle contest at our neighborhood church, Holy Rosary. Whoever sold the most raffle tickets (a first prize electric coffee percolator) would get to crown the Blessed Mother on her feast day. Well, I won fair and square but I wouldn't be the one to crown the Blessed Mother. I hadn't made my first communion. Conchita, the church catechist, assured Father Delaney that I knew all my prayers and knew all the requirements necessary to make my first communion. I knew all the rules. But Father Delaney wouldn't budge...it would be better if I made my first communion with my class at OLG, he said...and that was that (there's a first communion picture in one of my other blogs). Guess Father Delaney had his rules.
There were 15 girls dressed in light blue and pink tulle dresses led by two angels...I was one of the angels...
I was robbed....
Diana and Christina
Back to the story...
Ok - it wasn't fair. Did I break a rule? I don't think so...but it started me questioning a lot of things.
By the third grade, this thing about following rules was IMPORTANT. But where were these rules and who wrote them?
It didn't help when my teacher, Sister Regis compared my gibberish conversation with Ricky Casas (who sat behind me in class) to Adam and Eve's sin in the garden. I remember looking up at the picture of Adam and Eve (who had nothing on but fig leaves to cover them) being thrown out of the garden because she had eaten an apple...and then at Ricky and me....Adam and Eve....Ricky and me.., and I honestly couldn't see the connection but obviously to Sister Regis we had committed an egregious sin, punishable by being made to sit under her desk, in the heat smothered by her nun garb.
Later that same year yet another disagreement took place with my mom and Fr. Delaney...but this one proved fatal... We were withdrawn from OLG and it was public schools from here on in.
I've told this story before because Sister Regis' act of condemnation haunted me for many years...after all wasn't she the "church" representative... I thought I must be horrible...beyond salvation.
Now I'm 10 years old...and it's not getting better. Lets see, I did confuse tuna with eating meat on Friday and that got me a stern talking to from the priest. But the sin that really got the priest's attention was my reason for missing catholic doctrine after school. I explained to him how I was in band (which was true) and I had to walk home with my instrument which was heavy (that was true, too), all the way from junior high and by the time I walked home it was too late for doctrine (definitely true). But it wasn't good enough. I broke a rule; Thou shall not miss doctrine.
Well, that just wouldn't do, he said. He declared my sins unforgivable. Whoa! I didn't know what to do. My sins couldn't be forgiven? I was doomed. I mean really doomed. I did what any 10 year-old, scared out of her wits would do; I started crying. Well, the priest didn't know what to do, maybe he pushed a little too much - either way he gave up and forgave my sins...
So it made me question.... Would Jesus really deny forgiving my sins? Anyone's sins? I didn't think so. So where did this priest get off using such a power on an innocent child (me)? I'm sure he will have that discussion upon his entrance to the pearly gates...wonder how he'll feel if God says to him...sorry can't forgive your sins so you can't come in.
So that's my story and I'm sticking to it...
It seems to me everyone has different rules. Some people think they can bully you into believing their way is the only way. Or emotionally blackmail you or use fear, never once thinking that what they're doing is in anyway wrong. These people stopped listening a long time ago, sadly, and stopped growing along the way.
My daughter Diana, taught me something a long time ago...it was, she said, not my job to make sure these people learned their lesson - it was up to God. After all God was not going to be saying to me - on the day of my departure - "Thank you Diana for taking care of my problem with so and so...I couldn't have done it without you." The only thing he asks of me is to forgive and to love....so I do. It's so much more fun!
Until next time...
Friday, October 22, 2010
Sad Day
About a year ago I wrote, the mayor of McAllen, and the chief of police complaining about the traffic on our street. I was very concerned because we've had several close calls. Mind you, there have been three separate accidents with two cars ending on top of our lawn and one striking the corner of our home. We live four blocks from an elementary school and every morning and afternoon, people race through our street with no regard to the neighborhood pedestrian traffic. I got a letter of response saying they would look into it. A police officer was assigned to my complaint. Unfortunately, the police officer had about much respect for the law as he did for our request.
He pulled over a speeder along side of our garage. We overheard him telling the driver to slow down because the lady that lived in that house (pointing to our home and referring to me) is complaining about the speeding and let her go with a warning. That was the extent of their investigation
On Monday, speeding was at an all time high on Main Street and I commented to my husband Ralph, that sadly, until someone got killed they weren't going to do anything about this situation. Tuesday morning, my nephew by marriage, was killed and his riding buddy injured while they were riding their bikes on Trenton and Main...five blocks from our home. It was early in the morning, they had their flashing red lights as they rode. A ride they had been doing every morning. Roy, 32, was an avid cyclist and would raise money for several charities with his bike. Then someone hit them from behind and kept on going.
When I first meet Roy, the first impression I got from this beautiful young man was his kindness, his beautiful smile, and that he loved my niece, Lorena, dearly. He was so full of life and was so happy having started a new job a month prior...Roy was an architect. Lorena and Roy were getting ready to celebrate their 2nd wedding anniversary October 25th.
My mom thought the world of you Roy, so did the rest of the family. We will miss you and your love for life. May you be in God's loving embrace....
(Roy was a twin. He is survived by his wife, Lorena, his mother, Kathy Carlson and two brothers, Jorge and Andrew. He was working on his Masters, which he would have completed in December.)
***
He pulled over a speeder along side of our garage. We overheard him telling the driver to slow down because the lady that lived in that house (pointing to our home and referring to me) is complaining about the speeding and let her go with a warning. That was the extent of their investigation
On Monday, speeding was at an all time high on Main Street and I commented to my husband Ralph, that sadly, until someone got killed they weren't going to do anything about this situation. Tuesday morning, my nephew by marriage, was killed and his riding buddy injured while they were riding their bikes on Trenton and Main...five blocks from our home. It was early in the morning, they had their flashing red lights as they rode. A ride they had been doing every morning. Roy, 32, was an avid cyclist and would raise money for several charities with his bike. Then someone hit them from behind and kept on going.
When I first meet Roy, the first impression I got from this beautiful young man was his kindness, his beautiful smile, and that he loved my niece, Lorena, dearly. He was so full of life and was so happy having started a new job a month prior...Roy was an architect. Lorena and Roy were getting ready to celebrate their 2nd wedding anniversary October 25th.
ROY JOSE CARLSON
August 3, 1979 - October 19, 2010
August 3, 1979 - October 19, 2010
(Roy was a twin. He is survived by his wife, Lorena, his mother, Kathy Carlson and two brothers, Jorge and Andrew. He was working on his Masters, which he would have completed in December.)
***
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Friday Night Lights...
Home to the Mission High School Mighty Eagles and Mission Veterans High School Patriots.
Tom Landry Stadium - A winner never stops trying - Tom Landry
Located on Eagle Trail in Mission, Texas (Hidalgo County) Tom Landry Stadium was named after favorite son Tom Landry - Dallas Cowboy Coach 1960 -1988. With a grass playing surface, Tom Landry Stadium holds up to 10,000 people. A beautiful stadium it is considered one of the best places to watch a football game. Last year ranked 7th in state as best stadium according to TexasBob.com
The Might "M"
* * *
* What did the MHS -Class of 1970 donate to Mission High School our senior year?
* What was our football winning record our senior year?
* We know Freddie Galan and Cecilia Ann Rackley were Mr. & Ms. MHS - but who were the other candidates?
* Who was quarterback(s) our senior year?
* Quick, name the cheerleaders.
* What was the #1 Record in 1970?
* What was the #1 Album in 1970?
* What was the #1 Song in 1970?
* The Oscar winning movie?
* Ok, you have one do-over...what would you do-over your senior year?
Other 1970 trivia notes:
* Beatles broke up
* Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin both died from drug overdoses
* IBM introduces the floppy disk.
* Maya Angelou writes I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings
* Top movies: Love Story, M.A.S.H., Patton, Airport
| Tom Landry was born in Mission, Texas, and played for Mission High School where he led his Senior year football team to a 12-0 record. His most impressive professional accomplishment is his record for coaching the Dallas Cowboys to 20 consecutive winning seasons (1966–1985), an NFL record that remains unbroken and unchallenged. It remains one of the longest winning streaks in all of professional sports history. |
It was a clean sweep...
1970 - Album, Record and Song of the Year - Simon & Garfunkel's Bridge Over Troubled Water
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Football season...it's the bomb!!!
Burnett Stadium -
It looked bigger than life back then. Burnett Stadium named after a Dr. Thomas Burnett (a call to Mission's Speer Library has not yielded any info yet) still stands on the same corner only its Mission Junior High now. I look at the space and try to remember how in the world everyone came and parked at the game. I remember the visitor bleachers, and the football players, with their one knee down, their helmets resting on their leg waiting for coach to send them in.
Luckily for us, Mary Alice Martin (David Martin's mom and you know David was MHS Class of 1970), contacted me through Medardo de Leon, Jr. and we got a little more information. It seems Dr. Burnett was the team doctor...he was at all the games. He also had a son named Thomas, Jr. who passed away from polio at a young age. (Thanks Mrs. Martin!)
Then there was the band. Introduction into band came by way of band personnel recruiting visits made to our schools our fifth grade year. If your kids were interested and the instrument you picked could be bought privately - you were in band. For all others - the option was whatever instrument was available.
The latter was my case. You could rent an instrument for $9 for the whole year...a dollar a month. Plus, $9 for insurance...that's how the school could recover their money and/or instrument in case of an accident. My family could afford that but the only instruments available were, french horns, drums, baritones, and tubas..oh, and a few trombones. French horn it was...
I remember being patient - riding the bus everyday to the high school, which is Mission Junior High today, during my sixth grade year. Two more years and I could be with the BIG band simply because it would provide me an opportunity to go to all the football games. I really didn't know what that entailed other than going on bus trips with the community to all the football games. I just wanted to make it possible and inexpensive for me to experience Mission Eagle football. Who knew I would fall in love with my French horn and its melodic sounds.
So here we are - its 1966-67 and we're about to embark into the BIG grown up world of Mission High School. Gene Lewis, Band Director.
But the memory I want to share the most is the one that took place in the fall of 1968, I believe. That year, the City of Mission organized a, "Support America Rally." The City of Mission had lost its first son in the Viet Nam War and it was decided to pay tribute to a fallen hero. It was the first and only support America rally I have ever been to. It happened at Burnett Stadium. The band was there, students, families, the whole community came out to honor Marie Gonzalez's dad and other sons of Mission who were in Viet Nam. Marie, a freshman at Mission High School, and her family gave the ultimate sacrifice. Her dad was a sergeant and the first Mission casualty.
There were military personnel, dignitaries, and priests. It was a somber celebration; tears for a father gone missing amidst cheers supporting the great U.S.A.
We need more Support America Rallys.....without the casualties.
Here's a treat... The September 29, 1967 Mission Eagle Newspaper. Click the link below...
* Hurricane Beulah had just done its deed...
*David Merrill (MHS - Class of 68) was editor of our newspaper.
*Sandra Roth was named editor of our school annual.
*Our class of 70 were sophomores.
*...and lots more
(Its not easy to read but if you put it on full page, you can read most of it)
LINK:
http://www.scribd.com/doc/411453/92968-Mission-Eagle-Newspaper#fullscreen:on
Don't forget - Mission Eagles Homecoming is Friday, October 29th, 2010...
Oh, two more photos....I was the Band Sweetheart - MHS Class of 1970
ooooooooooo.....and...
Goodnight Mrs. Calabash...wherever you are...
...
It looked bigger than life back then. Burnett Stadium named after a Dr. Thomas Burnett (a call to Mission's Speer Library has not yielded any info yet) still stands on the same corner only its Mission Junior High now. I look at the space and try to remember how in the world everyone came and parked at the game. I remember the visitor bleachers, and the football players, with their one knee down, their helmets resting on their leg waiting for coach to send them in.
Luckily for us, Mary Alice Martin (David Martin's mom and you know David was MHS Class of 1970), contacted me through Medardo de Leon, Jr. and we got a little more information. It seems Dr. Burnett was the team doctor...he was at all the games. He also had a son named Thomas, Jr. who passed away from polio at a young age. (Thanks Mrs. Martin!)
Then there was the band. Introduction into band came by way of band personnel recruiting visits made to our schools our fifth grade year. If your kids were interested and the instrument you picked could be bought privately - you were in band. For all others - the option was whatever instrument was available.
The latter was my case. You could rent an instrument for $9 for the whole year...a dollar a month. Plus, $9 for insurance...that's how the school could recover their money and/or instrument in case of an accident. My family could afford that but the only instruments available were, french horns, drums, baritones, and tubas..oh, and a few trombones. French horn it was...
I remember being patient - riding the bus everyday to the high school, which is Mission Junior High today, during my sixth grade year. Two more years and I could be with the BIG band simply because it would provide me an opportunity to go to all the football games. I really didn't know what that entailed other than going on bus trips with the community to all the football games. I just wanted to make it possible and inexpensive for me to experience Mission Eagle football. Who knew I would fall in love with my French horn and its melodic sounds.
So here we are - its 1966-67 and we're about to embark into the BIG grown up world of Mission High School. Gene Lewis, Band Director.
But the memory I want to share the most is the one that took place in the fall of 1968, I believe. That year, the City of Mission organized a, "Support America Rally." The City of Mission had lost its first son in the Viet Nam War and it was decided to pay tribute to a fallen hero. It was the first and only support America rally I have ever been to. It happened at Burnett Stadium. The band was there, students, families, the whole community came out to honor Marie Gonzalez's dad and other sons of Mission who were in Viet Nam. Marie, a freshman at Mission High School, and her family gave the ultimate sacrifice. Her dad was a sergeant and the first Mission casualty.
There were military personnel, dignitaries, and priests. It was a somber celebration; tears for a father gone missing amidst cheers supporting the great U.S.A.
We need more Support America Rallys.....without the casualties.
Here's a treat... The September 29, 1967 Mission Eagle Newspaper. Click the link below...
* Hurricane Beulah had just done its deed...
*David Merrill (MHS - Class of 68) was editor of our newspaper.
*Sandra Roth was named editor of our school annual.
*Our class of 70 were sophomores.
*...and lots more
(Its not easy to read but if you put it on full page, you can read most of it)
LINK:
http://www.scribd.com/doc/411453/92968-Mission-Eagle-Newspaper#fullscreen:on
Don't forget - Mission Eagles Homecoming is Friday, October 29th, 2010...
Oh, two more photos....I was the Band Sweetheart - MHS Class of 1970
ooooooooooo.....and...
Goodnight Mrs. Calabash...wherever you are...
...
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Everything I learned, I learned in Kindergarten...
All about Mission...so the majority of our class had some great beginnings. We attended the local elementary schools where, whether you realize it or not...is where most of who we are was formed. Thought I'd post all the pictures of all the elementary schools most of my classmates attended. There isn't a school we attended (MHS - Class of 1970) that hasn't been replaced.
So here's the parade of schools...
FYI: Today, there are now 15 elementary schools in Mission. There were only eight elementary schools when we were attending...that's including two catholic schools, Our Lady of Guadalupe and St. Paul's.
Bryan Elementary - This school located on Bryan Road was completely redone. There's a street that runs in front of it now and goes into another neighborhood that wasn't there before. Ana B. Reyna, Principal.
Marcell Elementary...with two "ll's." Located on Holland Drive. Michelle Rodriguez, principal.
Pearson Elementary - Located on South Holland. Principal, Melissa Davis.
Roosevelt Elementary - Still at the same location but most of the school has been torn down except for the auditorium which is pictured here. The auditorium was used briefly by MCISD but I believe the chairs have since been removed. Roosevelt is no longer a "working" school.
Our Lady of Guadalupe School. Still in operation, located across street from Our Lady of Guadalupe Catholic Church.
St. Paul School. I believe its still in operation...no other information available at this time.
I attended OLG from grades Kinder to second grade. Starting with Mrs. Johnny Lopez, my kindergarten teacher, Sister Mary (?) in first and Mrs. Buschois (don't know if I'm spelling this right) was my second grade teacher. After a disagreement with Father Delaney, we began attending public school. I started at J. Castro Elementary, where I met Norma Lee Asebedo for the second time. Norma Lee and I attended Famelisa Sweat's neighborhood day care when we were three years old. Among the Mrs. Sweat's alumni were, Medardo de Leon, Jr., Janie De Leon Barratachea, Aida Ramirez, Salvador Hinojosa, twin sisters (can't remember their names...Yikes!!) and I'm sure there were more... Can anyone remember out there?
Those were peaceful times....
So here's the parade of schools...
FYI: Today, there are now 15 elementary schools in Mission. There were only eight elementary schools when we were attending...that's including two catholic schools, Our Lady of Guadalupe and St. Paul's.
Bryan Elementary - This school located on Bryan Road was completely redone. There's a street that runs in front of it now and goes into another neighborhood that wasn't there before. Ana B. Reyna, Principal.
Joaquin Castro Elementary - Originally this location was known as Citrianna Elementary but was renamed when the original Joaquin Castro Elementary on Rafael Ramirez/Mayberry was torn down. J. Castro was a World War II hero. Diana Flores Alcocer (MHS - Class of 1970) was principal for many years at J. Castro Elementary until her retirement two years ago. Sandra Claflin, principal.
Marcell Elementary...with two "ll's." Located on Holland Drive. Michelle Rodriguez, principal.
Pearson Elementary - Located on South Holland. Principal, Melissa Davis.
Roosevelt Elementary - Still at the same location but most of the school has been torn down except for the auditorium which is pictured here. The auditorium was used briefly by MCISD but I believe the chairs have since been removed. Roosevelt is no longer a "working" school.
Our Lady of Guadalupe School. Still in operation, located across street from Our Lady of Guadalupe Catholic Church.
St. Paul School. I believe its still in operation...no other information available at this time.
I attended OLG from grades Kinder to second grade. Starting with Mrs. Johnny Lopez, my kindergarten teacher, Sister Mary (?) in first and Mrs. Buschois (don't know if I'm spelling this right) was my second grade teacher. After a disagreement with Father Delaney, we began attending public school. I started at J. Castro Elementary, where I met Norma Lee Asebedo for the second time. Norma Lee and I attended Famelisa Sweat's neighborhood day care when we were three years old. Among the Mrs. Sweat's alumni were, Medardo de Leon, Jr., Janie De Leon Barratachea, Aida Ramirez, Salvador Hinojosa, twin sisters (can't remember their names...Yikes!!) and I'm sure there were more... Can anyone remember out there?
Those were peaceful times....
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