Father's Day

Hope y'all don't mind...In honor of father's everywhere...

These are the father's in my life...


My father, Guadalupe Corpus...

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.

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.

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.

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.

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I was also very lucky to have a wonderful, beautiful father-in-law, whom I love very much.

Ralph P. Garza


[acquiring photo]



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.

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Then there was my grandfather, Amado Lopez, Sr.  My grandpa had a handlebar mustache.  He smoked cigarettes.

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.

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...

Thanks Grandpa, for making me feel special, only, you, 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.

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I saved the best for last...

My husband and father of our children,  Ralph F. Garza.

Sam likes Daddy's mustache, too!

My hubby, whose buttons I can push, makes everything all right, messes up, and never gives up...Happy Father's Day.

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.

You've done an awesome job, Ralph F. Garza.  I love you...Happy Father's Day.

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TO ALL THE FATHERS IN THE WORLD - HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!...today and everyday!








...

Celebrating Friends...

Today is Cynthia Garza Weber's birthday.

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.

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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 Peter Pan.  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.

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!

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.

Wendy, Ralph and Mandy.

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.

I don't know the  name but this one has a crown of flowers that bloom perfectly in a ring .

Next time, I'll photograph them when they're all blooming.

It's a small world after all...

Celebrating Friends...

From Mission High School Class of 1970 - Mission, Texas

GONE BUT NEVER FORGOTTEN!!

Today is Celia's Birthday...

Celia Munoz Badiozzamani

Born May 23, 1952, left us November 21, 2006...

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.

Several years ago, Cynthia Garza Weber purchased a plaque with left over monies from donations from classmates for Celia's flowers.

The family did not accept it.

(We respect their wishes but hope someday it will be besides her.)

Celia,

     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.

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.)

Well, you know the state of things in the world, Celia...please pray for us.   HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CELIA!  

Love you,

Di

Friends & Kapok!

Happiness...is seeing my friends...

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!

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.

John Leidner commented to Mark's post and said he'd be down, too.  His visit - a family reunion.

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.

L to R:  Nancy Gibson Hyslin, Mark Mills, John Leidner, Diana Corpus Garza, Janie De Leon Barratachea

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.

What we did decide was...next time we'll meet in Las Vegas....hehehe!!!



(Or if Nancy White Carmack brings us together...maybe Dallas...)

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Kapok or Silk-cotton tree

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 had to 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.

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. 

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 BATS 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.

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.

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 sacred.  They believed that the souls of the dead would climb up into the branches which reached into heaven.

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!


Peace!

Tsunamis

This particular day and blog is dedicated to Nancy White Carmack for her unwavering faith and effervescent heart.

You can read her blog at:  Nancy's blog

The thought occurred to me last night; I was thinking about my "tsunamis."    Was I handling them well?  The answer was a resounding, "NO!"

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Nancy, you are a blessing.

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.

God Bless!

Peace!

Mission...where the buffalos roam!

This happened August 23, 2010...


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.

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.)

She did an awesome job!!!

Now to my story...

 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.

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.

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.

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.

Inside the swimming pool area.

 They closed the swimming pool area gate to keep him in and the poor baby kept trying to find his way out.

 After a quick photo opt, police were called.

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.

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...)

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.

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.

Well folks...this is my story and I'm sticking to it....only in Mission!!!

Where were you on these days?

November 22, 1963

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.

It was a strange day.

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.

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.

"Are you recording us, Mr. Perez?"  I asked.

Still no answer.

"Guys, guys!  Mr. Perez is recording us....Quiet!...Quiet!"

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.

"Do you know what you sound like when you enter this room?"  he asked.

Well, having it brought to my attention by the taper recorder - we were quite noisy.

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.

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. 

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.

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.

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The Challenger

Seems strange things always happen.   This day was January 28, 1986.  I was living in Houston.

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?  

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.

"Are you getting ready to watch the Space Shuttle take off?"  she asked.

"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.)

"Are you ok?...they're getting ready to launch."  she retorted.

"Martha, I saw it explode.  It was taking off and then it just exploded."  I insisted.

"Diana, are you in front of the television?"  she asked.

"Well, no, but...I've had it on all this time."  I answered.

I walked to the television, phone in hand.  The countdown was just beginning.

"Martha, I swear."  I insisted.  "I saw it explode.  Everyone was killed!"

"Watch!"  Martha said.  "They're about to launch..."

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.

"Oh my God!  Oh my God!"  Martha cried.

"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.

"This can't be.  I know I saw it."  I insisted.  "Maybe this wasn't live."

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.

It was heart-breaking.  Christa McAuliffe's name echoed especially loud.

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.

Life always comes full circle...

It happens...

Times, yes, they are a changing...

If you're from Mission, Texas, attended schools there or visited you were automatically imbued with love for football.

Being a Mission Eagle meant loyalty, integrity, and pride....spirit pride.  Friday nights was football night.  Even if you couldn't afford a ticket...all you had to do was wait until half-time and you could go in free.  For me, I joined the band - free games, free trips, and a front row seat at the football game.  Literally, back then the band sat on the sidelines, on the field right down from cheerleaders and the football players.

We have a legacy - Mission made it to state back when it was 2A - 1941...and we have Tom Landry.  You can't miss the mural in downtown Mission.  I didn't come to know the Eagles until I was in junior high and Lum Wright was coach.  (I remember his sons, too, we hung around in the summers during Summer Recreation.).  Don't hold me to it, but if you're from Mission, chances are you're a die hard Dallas Cowboy fan and a Mission Eagle for all eternity.


The Mighty Mission Eagles "flew" high for many years - prior to 1970.  I learned two years ago just before our 2010 Homecoming that the "flying" eagle was grounded or retired after 1970, depending on how you look at it.  The eagle now appears as a head of an eagle.  Gone are the spread wings - gone is the freedom.  Well, not exactly but you gotta admit...clipping an eagle's wings???   I don't think so!

And the biggest change of all...

There it is!  Burnett Stadium has changed - now the home of the Veteran's Patriots - Mission's second high school.  And in the Mission tradition...they're one heck of a football team.

Good football, is good football. 

So Dallas didn't make it to the Super Bowl...but it will be a very colorful game for sure.  Looking forward to some hot chili, micheladas and good football.  Being a die hard football fan except for that one time in the 70's when football went on strike - I did disown football temporarily - and discovered there was life after football.  I tried the Houston Oilers and got tired of not being able to kick the door down and came back to the Cowboys...only to experience the same "dang door that still wouldn't come down."

I can stand just about anything...wrong calls, bad referees...missed passes, but can somebody tell me...
WHAT'S WITH THE LONG HAIR????   THERE'S NO LONG HAIR IN FOOTBALL!!!!  UCKY SWEATY LONG HAIR WHIPPING IN THE WIND, SLAPPING YOUR FACE SILLY!  HEY GUYS, PUT IT IN A PONY TAIL OR TIE IT BACK...ENOUGH!


I was just saying...

 I know it's not until February 6th...but on to SUPER BOWL!!!

Coincidences

Coinkidinks...

Life is full of coincidences - it colors my life ...for example.

This recent storm has wrecked havoc on so many lives.

My daughter, Diana Christina, was down in the Valley choreographing the McAllen High School Choir Dinner Show they put on every year.  Diana has been choreographing their shows for the last three years, I believe.  If you get an opportunity to see this year's performance, do so, it is a wonderful experience.  It's held in February.

Long story short, she had to return to Georgia via Dallas (driving) and the weather report was sending out red flags.  Having lived in Colorado, I knew traveling in those kind of conditions was a no-no.  That nagging feeling that she shouldn't travel kept pounding in my heart.

Luckily, my daughter listened and waited until Wednesday to make her trek back home and she arrived safely in Georgia Wednesday evening.  She left home in Rockwall, Tx at 6:00 a.m - arriving Georgia at night.  It should have been an 11-hour drive.

Ralph and I seriously thought about driving up to Dallas and driving her to Georgia...parents do that.  In fact, that's what gave me my subject.  One of my classmates, who also has a blog (Hi, Nancy!), also had a mini travel emergency when her new son-in-law was accidentally hit by another skier on the slopes...they are now on their way to offer any assistance...that's what parents do.

Simultaneously, I would hear Christina Taylor Green's name...a beautiful 9-year old whose life was senselessly taken from her, spoken over the airwaves.  Born on 9-11 she was such a hopeful, happy, child whose life was just beginning.  There are no words to describe what a parent feels when we lose a child...no words. 

I thought, how our children are woven so intricately into our hearts...how we know when danger is lurking, or they're sad or worse...hurt.  But somehow we feel it hundreds of miles away.  In so many ways that umbilical cord is still attached.

Nancy's story reminded me of the phone call we got at midnight one night.  Diana was living in King George , Maryland.  Diana was driving home and she fell asleep...she woke up just as she was headed into a tree and overcompensated and flipped her car several times.  Her car was totaled but Diana, aside from being tossed, was unhurt.  What happened next, is what I keep close to my heart.

That night, on this isolate road flanked by 75 - 90 ft pine trees, my daughter was alone...  She called us, and called for help.  While she sat in her car, shaking and trying to get her bearings...a young man approached her car.  There was no sound or lights of another car.  He went up to her and asked her if she was ok...and also that he would stay with her until help arrived.  She didn't know who he was, nor where he came from but she thanked him and they waited in the dark until help arrived.

By the time the police arrived, Diana was thinking clearer.  They took her report and made sure she was ok.  She remembered the young man and wanted to thank him for staying with her...so she turned to the police officer helping her and asked if she had seen him.

The police officer seemed confused.

"There was no one with you when we arrived," he told her.  "You were all alone."

"No, he was with me the whole time."  my daughter insisted.  The police officer assured her, there had been no one else when they arrived.

I'd like to think, that was my baby's guardian angel, watching over her.  I also like to think that her guardian angel watched over her when she drove back home to Georgia, too.

I know how Sam and Nancy felt that night they got their phone call.  Relieved  that everything was ok but concerned how they would drive back...so we exercise our parental rights to dote.

When you have children, they are the center of your universe.

If you read my blog about the javelina/hog we hit on our way home Christmas weekend, there was another "hog" incident the very next day.  Near Houston, I think.  A father hit a hog, too - he overcompensated to avoid it and lost control of his car, hit a tree and burst into flames.  Another driver, who saw the whole thing, rushed in to help.  It turned out the driver of the first car had a young child in the car seat in back.  The second driver was able to rescue the young child.


A few days ago, I got a phone call from a very close friend of mine, Cynthia Weber, also a classmate.  She was so excited.  She was calling to tell me about her good news.   Her daughter Melanie, had gotten engaged and they would be getting married December 10, 2010 in Austin.

I whooped, "Oh my gosh!  Samantha got engaged, too and her wedding date is December 10, 2010 but in Kyle.

They had gotten engaged within days of each other and now they would be sharing the same wedding date.

"Coincidence?"  you ask....

Let me tell you this...Cynthia and I have been sharing coincidences since we were in Kindergarten...right, Shorte?  Kindred spirits do that!!!

It reminds me what a small world it is, and how interconnected we are and that no matter where we go, or who we are...we're not alone...ever!!

2000 - 2010

It doesn't seem like a whole lot but it's been ten years...a decade.  Eighteen years ago, our family moved back to the Rio Grande Valley...this after being gone for 22 years.  I was unrecognizable...but I would recognize our classmates anywhere.  I found out no one was planning our 30th class reunion.

So I got started.  It was 2000 and also the year my oldest daughter graduated.  Although my daughters were active in each of their prospective classes, their high school experience was not something they wanted to remember much less celebrate.

I saw things different.  I'm not saying my high school experiences were wonderful but it's the kind of stuff that makes you who you are...the precursor to real life choices.  It was the memories that I wanted to preserve, and the friendships...it's what got me started organizing the Annual Summer Reunions for Mission High School Class of 1970.

The first one...no one had any photos.  It was held at Pepe's on the River (owned by Jalapeno's in McAllen).  We had about 50 classmates attend and 25 friends and spouses.  No one wanted to have it and this was done with zero expenses.  If you wanted to eat or drink...it was on you.  Expenses seemed to be the reason no one wanted to continue with the reunions.  Seems the Class of 70 was left holding the bag at the last reunion so to speak and the expense came out of unsuspecting classmates.  No one wanted to hold another one.  Jane De Leon Barratachea and Cita Garza Jimenez were the only two volunteers

I had to do something.  Queen of doing things at the most minimal of expenses, I jumped in with all fours and Elva Salinas Boren backed me up.

The second (2001) annual summer reunion provided five photos...here's one of Armando Gonzalez and Refugio Huerta...buds since forever... 

We had it at Elva Salinas Boren's home.  I think we were about 15 people that showed up. 










2002 - Jeanne Valverde Martinez and her husband Steve, opened up their lovely home for this reunion.  It was well attended and everyone had a great time.  Again minimal expense. 

 The best time we've had, happened the next night.  Jaime Barrera was there.

 

 It was Chango Jerry's and we had a blast!!

The following year (2003) we had our reunion at Archie Acevedo's home.  It was excellent and well attended.  Again, minimal expense.  BYOB and food and snacks were brought by everyone. 

So it became an annual event.  Some years were better than others.  Always the local and diehard supporters attended.  Rick de la Garza, Fernando de la Garza, Mary Lou Garcia Martinez, Janie De Leon Barratachea, Gloria Gonzalez Pena, ...well, you know who you are.

 2004 - Two nights - Archie's and Justice Hall!!! -  It was the 4th of July!!!

The second night...Justice Hall!!

It would be the last reunion Celia would attend....

Then there was the 35th.  It was our 70's themed party.  We gave black lights, psychedelic t-shirts, and posters for door prizes.  I was expecting a big turnout.  But it was the locals and a few out of town classmates who's support never wavered. 

Then there was 2006...it was getting harder but the diehards hung in there.

  

No pictures for 2007 but 2008 brought two nights...  One at Pepe's on the River

The next night in my back yard...

2009 - Brought the planning committee together for the last hurrah...2010

And it finally arrived  - Our 40th Class Reunion. - July 9-11, 2010

That was the last ten years.  It's been great - but this organizer is hanging up her tennis shoes.  Overall, I thank God for the opportunity afforded me.  It was great seeing all the wonderful faces, learning new things about old friends, and getting reacquainted with those that made it.

I've been trying to bring people together always...  Through Holy Spirit Parrish, at McAllen High School ...at University of Texas-PanAmerican, with My Circle of Friends Couple Group, our class of 1970 and lastly the Divatudes.

I have no regrets -

I have come to realize that friends come and go - it's nature. People come into our lives throughout our lifetimes for different reasons. Some stay a while,  some cross your path for a short time, others needed you there for a life lesson.  Some walk by your side, others come into your path, full speed and uninvited bringing negative or distructive energy into your life. It's hard to shake those off while you're trying to balance your life.

Friends will come and go, fulfilling their purpose as you did in thiers. A true friend knows you inside out and no matter how far distance separates you, or how long the silence between phone calls, when you resume communication, it's like you just talked yesterday. You bring out the best in each other.

I've tried not to hold on to friends but just let friendship take its course. When a friendship ends, I am grateful for the time and move on. If I end a friendship to keep my life clear from negative influence, I am grateful for what ever that person taught me, for we are only reflections of each other in another place and time.

I used to cry over lost friendships, but life has taught me to let go and know that each one had a reason to be and a purpose in my life.  Instead, I'm eternally grateful.

There is one memory though that I wished would have turned out different.  That was at our 2005 reunion.  John Leidner made the trek from Georgia.  It was great seeing John.  But I couldn't help but see the disappointment on John's face at his seeing only  few to none of his childhood buddies.  I wish I could have produced more of his friends. 

Maybe we'll get another chance...anyone.....anyone.....anyone!

Here's looking at you kid...see you on Facebook.

IT'S  2011!!!!

Well, that's it!  So here's looking forward to the next 10 years, my daughter Sam's wedding, my fabulous husband, my puppies, and the Divatudes...    God Bless.