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.

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.

* * *

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.

 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

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...