New Life

The past few days have been a bit of a haze for me.  How is it that LIFE can be so beautiful, yet so unbelievably cruel?

After contracting a deadly work-related illness, my father was told he'd never live to see his grandchildren, yet his beautiful grandson and namesake was born just 40 days before his passing--God worked a grandchild into my dad's short, yet fulfilling life.  That was 18 years ago.  

Less than 48 hours ago, that grandson (my 18 year old nephew) lost his own father in a tragic work-related accident.  At one time in his very short lifespan, I'm sure he thought he'd never live to see his son graduate from high school.  He passed just 84 days after watching his beautiful son receive his diploma.  

My nephew has had a rough life.  His mother (my sister) was only 15 when she became pregnant.  His father was 22.  A hoodlum for lack of a better word.  My dad was a firefighter dying from an illness he had no control over.  When authorities found out that my underaged sister was pregnant, "Frank" was arrested.  And when the time came to press charges, my dad refused.  He wanted nothing more than for the "creep" to rot in jail for getting his baby girl pregnant, but he had the foresight to realize that his relationship with his teenage daughter and grandbaby was much more valuable and precious than sweet revenge.  

When he became involved with my sister, "Frank" was into drugs, alcohol, dealing and other offenses.  He was a high school drop out.  A menace to society who had been in and out of the system.  His older brother was already serving time and his younger brother would soon be put away for life after murdering an innocent man.  He was a broken, sorry excuse for a man.

But something stirred in him.  He took to heart my dad's compassion on him and the fact that he had a child on the way made him look back on the road he had thus far traveled.  He saw what had become of his brother and friends who were well on their way to a lifetime of regrets.  He struggled for years with the demons living within him.  Alcoholism, mental illness, etc. And once his son was born, he made a conscious effort to begin his life anew.

He saw how close our family was.  He envied our spiritual strength and belief in education and moral justice.  He became accepting of our willingness to 'teach' him compassion and take him under our wings.  We encouraged him to go back to school to get his GED and when he passed, we encouraged him to walk the arches to receive his diploma--after all, he'd earned the right to cross that stage.  Our entire family attended his 'graduation', but his family was not present.  He moved in with us and became part of our lives.  We enriched his life by taking him places he'd never seen before (the Eastern Sierras, Tahoe, Las Vegas, Yosemite, etc.)  and by exposing him to culture he'd never been privy to before.  Musicals, fancy restaurants, 5 star hotels, bought him his first fishing pole, took him to Disneyland, etc.

But something beyond our ability gradually took him over.   His brother and friends began to belittle him by making him believe that we were trying to 'change' him to fit our 'coconut' lives (brown on the outside, but white on the inside).  He struggled between both worlds until his old ways won.  Not even for his son would he betray his family and friends.  He eventually made the decision to go back to his old, damned ways.  He shunned my sister's ultimatum to shape up and she was forced to boot him out of our home.  Over the next several years he was in and out of prison.  In and out of his son's life.  On and off drugs.  He had even been shot (with the bullet still lodged in his thigh).  He was eventually denied rights to be a part of his son's life.

Fast forward to just a few years ago.  "Frank" has met another woman who has changed his life in the way my sister and our family once had, only this time, he is ready to accept this life change.  Coincidently his new woman has the same name as my sister.  She is educated--with a job in education and she has encouraged him to mend his ties with his son.  She became pregnant and "Frank" did the honest thing and married her.  They had a son and before he turned 1, she found out that she was pregnant with another.  "Frank's" life was beginning to make sense to him.  he was now living for his family--a beautiful, accepting, loving wife; 2 amazing sons and another on the way; an honest job as a truck driver.  Roses--everything was beginning to come up roses for him.  He began spending time with my nephew; put his 1 year old son to bed himself every night and talked to his unborn son, via his wife's belly, often.

2 days ago, on his way out the door, he asked his wife to call my nephew to invite him on a weekend camping trip in his new trailer.  He kissed his one year old and wife and headed on his final run.  He was just a few days shy of his 41st birthday.  A friend of his, also a truck driver, and a witness to his accident, said that his front tire flew off.  And once that happens on a big rig at those Interstate speeds, there is no way to control the rig.  "Frank's" last decision was to veer away from the traffic around him and into the center divider where he was ejected and his truck overturned.  He died on impact.  A small consolation for his grieving family and especially his 18 year old son who's last conversation with his father, was an argument.

As his Godmother, I have always been there for my nephew.  Thankfully, he has allowed me to console him.  I was able to give him the details of his father's death and hold him as he asked "Why?" over and over.  "But I didn't get to say 'Goodbye'!"... I will never forget the hurt in his voice as he sobbed those words.  It pains me so much to not be able to take that hurt away from him.  My only words that I could offer him were that I knew that nothing I could say would take away the enormous hole in his heart.  But I knew how much his father loved him and how proud he was of him.  And that he would want him to be an influence in his baby brothers' lives.

Lord, PLEASE help me to continue to be there for my Godson and give me the wisdom to know and say what he needs to hear at this most difficult time in his life...

'Stranger' Perspective

Had a blast tonight with my BFF and other assorted fun-loving peeps at a local hotel bar.  Sat next to a Canadian man: married, stay-at-home dad.  During the conversation, (before he bought me a tequila shot), he asked why a beautiful, nobel, kind-hearted kindergarten teacher like myself was still single.  I proceeded to tell him about my recent 'guy friend' that I was still in love with; and how he dumped me for a woman 20 years my senior and then moved in with her after telling me in no uncertain terms that he didn't want to be committed to one person.
He made me laugh just with his jaw drop alone.  Then he apologized to me on the behalf of men, and told me that 'He' (my ex-whatever-he-was), was a fool.  To which I replied, "yeah, well, to each his own, I guess."  To which he made me laugh again, by stating, "sure, but he still has to sleep with her!  I mean even if she was decent looking, her 'box' must be so dusty and leathery."
This man gave me new hope and faith that there still is someone out there that will love me for just being myself.  One that will lift my spirit with his humor and genuine personality.  He's one of the 'good guys' for sure!  Had he not been married, I might have been inclined to pursue him for myself.

Where's the Beefcake?

I must admit that this groove that I claim to have recently found is seriously underrated, malnourished and extremely elusive!  Soy Latina!  I am theoretically a 'latin lover', no?  Spanish is a romantic language... so why don't I have a papi up in this cama of mine?  Or at the very least, un Sancho?

I'll admit I was out of the 'amor' scene for quite some time.  But the lack of sexo never really bothered me until now.  I mean, I have found my mojo.  I have my own place--complete with a cama worthy of some hard-core action, yet I cannot even get mi casita 'blessed'.  In fact, I seriously could have sex thrice a day, every day and not get tired...  What gives?

Perhaps I am too picky...  I prefer a lover to be darker than me in complexion--not difficult, as I am a rather light-skinned latina.  I prefer that I know him well enough to know his character--wouldn't want some loco to stalk me once he's been to my casita.  I prefer that he be fun and inventive in the boudoir--who doesn't like a prop every now & then?  I prefer a man that is free (not attached by strings, rings or other such things)--a gal's gotta draw the line somewhere.

The Summer of ME has turned into a Bummer for ME!  How am I supposed to make good mimis cada noche if I ain't gettin' any azucar?  Que lastima!

Anybody Home?

The following posts are based on actual events, however, some names and places have been changed to protect the innocent--and in some cases the guilty!

The following 4 entries were originally written over 2 years ago in the form of emails to an ex-boyfriend.  It was, in a way, the catalyst for my creating this blog.  The fact that I sent it to an ex that I hadn't seen in years, speaks volumes as to how far removed I was before my recent life 'transformation'...

Hola!

I just wanted to  check the address out.  Hope all is well on the football front.  May your season be long and rewarding.  I meant to ask you about your mom and her health.  I hope she is doing well with her treatment. 

I hope you don't mind, but I intend to keep in touch with an email or 2 per week.  If I begin to annoy you, just tell me to f*** off--I can handle it, I've watched every episode of "Hell's Kitchen".  I've entitled my first chapter, "Anybody Home?".  It speaks to my need for social interactions with people my own age--just hang tough and humor me by listening to my mindless rants--you know, like as if we were married.

I'm desperate for peer interactions!!!!   I love my mother to death, but I can't talk to her as a girlfriend (she's too naive);  My BFF is extremely busy saving the working class;  My cousin is busy with her mentee (she's mentoring a H.S. 'otherwise' delinquent girl); my sisters are not close enough in age to appreciate my wisdom... (nor my sarcasm...) and my brother is busy with his shop.  My sister in law is just plain old GOP--nuff said there;  2 of my co-kinder teachers have changed grade-levels, so they are busy with 2nd & 3rd grade things; My co-Grade Level Chair is busy with her kids and Joe (the other remaining Kinder team member) lives out of town and has a wife who is in and out of the hospital.  Of the 2 new kinder team members, 1 drives me absolutely batty because she has a twin who looks, dresses, talks, etc. like her and they're both nosey chatterboxes!  And the other new K teacher is newly divorced and looking for a place that she and I can rent as a bachelorette and party pad for the "fun" teachers at our site.  I'm so alone and isolated in my Kinder classroom!  The only sane person in my life right now is the custodian, and he leaves at 3pm!  Damn, I miss writing, (I feel better already).

Anyway, I guess thems the breaks...  talk to you soon : ) 

~K

Reality Check

That's my Boo--a man of few (choice) words Lol.  I'm glad your moms is doing fine.  Hope you are taking care of yourself as well... 

Chapter two of my e-memoirs is entitled:  Reality Check. 

This summer has been CRAZY busy with not just Dads and Grads, but Weddings and funerals as well.  So, as I told you about earlier, my cousin's youngest son just graduated from the Air Force Academy in May.  You know that in order to be accepted as a recruit, you must first be in the top 10% of all applicants nationwide and you must be nominated by a state congressman or assemblyman (some office like that) for consideration.  As if that isn't prestigious enough, He was also one of only 30 squadron leaders--meaning he was in charge of 125 cadets. 

(Incidentally, Joe Biden stood on stage for almost 3 hours and saluted, shook hands and posed for pictures with each and every one of over 1100 graduates in the blazing sun).  He will be getting married in Dec.

In June, my cousin's middle son, graduated from Cal Poly San Luis Obisbo as not only the top Mechanical Engineer, but as the top Engineer PERIOD!  In 5 years at Cal Poly, he only received 2 A- 's!!!

Today was my cousin's last day of work, he is now a Retired Port Hueneme Civilian Engineer.  We TPed his house a few hours ago in a show of celebration for his accomplishments.  His Oldest son is getting married at the end of the month (he owns his own engineering company). 

Last night we went to another cousin's graduation from the Orange County Fire Academy.  (you met him that day at my mom's).  My dad was his dad's mentor, he became a fireman after my dad exposed him to the Forest Service Hot Shot Crew.  His son that just graduated is also my parents' Godchild.  Anyway, out of 3000 applicants, only the top 10% are admitted to the academy--my cousin was one of the lucky ones.  He got in without his Dad's influences.  In fact, he specifically went through the OC academy, so that he wouldn't be associated with his dad in Ventura Co.  He would not allow his dad to dress in his dress blues at any of the Academy events, because he didn't want anyone to think he got in based on his family ties.  You too, can have an opportunity to see that graduation ceremony because he and his entire academy of 24 cadets were a part of a reality show that will air beginning on Oct. 24th.  (just 3 days after what will be the 20 year anniversary of our first meeting).  It was a trip, cause we had to sign release papers to enter the venue and there were cameras, lights, and mics everywhere.  I can see where the guys got used to the film crew, cause by the end of the night, I even forgot they were there... 

Josh (My bro's youngest) is a baseball prodigy--he wants to play for the Dodgers and he isn't even 3 yet.  Luke (his oldest) is a golf prodigy--he's only 6, but he is in the Jr. Golf Academy at Olivas Adobe in Ventura (you generally have to be at least 12 to join).  Jake (My younger bro's son is just 27 mos. and he knows his letters, sounds, colors, shapes, animals, & lots more!)  Must be the Asian in him.  And finally, J.J. passed his High School exit exam on the first round--most kids take 3 to 4 attempts and the kicker...  He has a 1.3 GPA!!!!!!!!! What a let-down!  Hope your daughter is faring well at least...

If we would have had a kid, he could be playing pro ball by now... 

Have a great weekend : )  Stay Real and Check yourself often...

~K

Age Ain't Nothin' But a Number

Hello out there,

So, my sister-in-law, just joined the 40's crowd yesterday.  She dyed her sandy blonde hair a deep mohogany and has scheduled a tandum sky dive for this Saturday.  (I'd like to jump out of a plane too, but I think I'll wait til I'm 50). 

This past weekend, we made the long treck up north to Topaz, NV.  (where my grandma used to live and I almost killed you on the black ice...Lol...)  Anywho, we went to surprise my grandma's little brother for his 80th birthday.  All the Ortegas were invited and there were at least 75 to 100 of us there.  We arrived Fri., gradually filling up the Lodge (where we spent the night), hoping against the odds that my uncle would not run into any of us so as not to spoil the surprise before our Sat. party.  Alas, there were a couple of near misses, but with the help of the entire staff at the lodge, we were able to keep our presence quiet.  Incidentally, my uncle Hank is a local celebrity there and as a result, we got the VIP treatment the entire time we were there.  My mom won over $1500 at the casino--all was great!

Knowing that we would be heading up there, we booked 3 rooms for our family.  At the very last minute, my sis & I decided to rent an RV, so that my 89 year-old grandma & 95 year-old grandpa would be nice and comfy for the trip.  We also knew that this would probably be their last trip to the part of the country they love most (the Eastern Sierras).  So I grew a set of cajones and drove a 31' Coachmen Chalet Motor Home the entire way up and all the way back.  Are you proud of me?  By the way, I didn't wreck, dent or even so much as put a pit or scratch anywhere the entire time it was under my comand!  Not a single near miss and no one even honked their horn at me!  At 41, I learned how to drive a 31' vessel... 

My grandma was great all the way up--happy, witty, drinking every mile along the way.  But by the time we got there, she began to regress to a defiant teenager state.  She refused to drink water (it was 115 degrees easily); she refused to wear her depends or take her cane; she wouldn't rest or shower.  My grandpa wasn't enjoying himself cause he would only leave her alone with my aunt and she didn't check in until the next morning.  She got so bad, that on the day we left, my aunt took her home in their car, so that my grandpa could go fishing with us in peace on the way home.

We wanted to take my grandpa alone, cause we knew that at 95, this would most likely be his last fishing trip.  Are we glad we did...  that man opened up and talked the entire way home!  He told my sis and her boyfriend where all the secret roads were along the way--best places to fish (and the worst); best places for deer hunting; where the best hot springs were located; old fishing & camping stories.  Most of them were stories that we had never heard.  Did you know that when he was 7, he lived on a hill in San Pedro and fell as he ran down to watch the French Army arrive at the port during WWI?  He showed the scar from where he landed on a rock.  They had nightly black outs due to the potential air strikes against LA--the French were our allied support while the US faught overseas.  Do you know that when his family moved from LA to Piru, that it took 2 days by horse and buggy?  Today it takes 2 hrs. tops depending on traffic.  He taught my sis' boyfriend how to properly add a bobber and tie a trebel hook.  (We exposed him to fishing a couple of years ago and now he is HOOKED--a fein).  We dropped my grandfather off at 1:30am on Monday morning and he had the most happy, appreciative look that we have seen on his face since before my dad got sick. 

After a lot of reflecting on this past weekend, I'd like to suggest that you do the same with your family--don't rent an RV and travel to the Sierras (unless you really want to~I highly suggest it).  Just spend time with them.  Listen to their childhood stories.  We get so caught up in our own personal gratifications and daily routines, that we forget that there were generations of our peeps before us.  They had their own trials and good times and they seem to come to life when someone shows an interest in it.  It saddens me that I won't ever get to share these stories with my own grandchildren, but hopefully I can inspire others to do so... 

God Bless you & yours,

Perspective

So I recieved a healthy dose of middle-aged perspective today (yesterday).  The venue?  My great-aunt's funeral.  As I listened to Fr. Barney give the blessings, recited the 23rd Psalm in a daze as second and third cousins I barely know released white balloons into the gorgeous saphire blue skies of SoCal, I watched a tear well up in my grandfather's eye for the last sister left in his 11-sibling family.  Only Johnny and Tommy remain.  It occurred to me that aside from being a family of hard working hunters & fishermen, I really know very little about my Rangel gente...  How sad.  How sad for my grandfather to outlive both of his sons, all of his sisters and several brothers.  How sad that that branch of my family tree is so divided and split-up that my great uncle Johnny--one of the only three surviving Rangel men didn't even make the effort (nor did any of his family) to come to his baby sister's funeral.

Then I praised God for my Ortega gente.  And my Alcocer-Martinez gente for being so close.  It will be they who attend my Grandfater's funeral when the time comes.  I'm certain Johnny won't be there for his brother.  I know that Tommy will, but I seriously think my grandfather will outlive both of them.  The notion that his life story will not be heard scares me.  His life needs to be validated for future generations.  I don't see my Uncle Ed's girls telling his story, and Aunt Yaya has no grandkids, and it looks like she never may.  I know my brother will not validate it for his boys--he's the JohnnyBoy of our family.  I'm sure Jay will, but I think Jake's Japonese roots will prove thicker than his Rangel roots.  J.J. is our only hope.  Maria could be a possibility, and Amy and Javi could step up and produce another great-grandbaby to tell the story.  Better yet, I could! 

It occurred to me that while I do need a man to father a child, I don't need one to raise a child.  I plan to look into my possibilities. At the risk of becoming an octomom, artificial insemination is possibly within my means--(not as fun), but it is within my means. 

I could take some friends' up on their offer to make a "donation" for the cause, but somehow I don't think they meant insemination via a plastic cup with a magazine in a drafty dr.'s office...Lol.  Adoption is out there as well, but that could take a really long time.  I could take my grandmothers advise when she jokingly told my cousin, "why not have 2 men?  As long as they can handle me."  At this age, that sounds like the most fun and probably the most productive, yet just a bit too sluttish... (is that a word?)  Maybe I'll just declare myself a cougar and hit the dating scene.  Ewwwwww!!!!!!

To think that Tia Jennie's funeral could have such a life-altering affect on me is pretty awesome.  Although I don't really think it was her funeral persay that gave me this epiphany moment.  I think its the fear of not having my own story told... 

Blessings...

~K

PS  Did I tell you that I saw Montel Jordon, BBD & Keith Sweat at State Line last weekend?!  It was HOT and steamy up in there!  I also saw El Chicano, Tierra, and WAR the night before!  They were way better...  What you know about them?  Check em out...