Life Is Right Now

I’ve got this plaque hanging up in my bedroom. It’s just one of those cheap, wooden ones with a saying, like you can find in pretty much any novelty store. I bought it because, to me, it’s one of those reminders that we need to look at every once in awhile so we don’t forget. Life is right now. Not yesterday, not last week, or last year, or tomorrow even. It’s right now. And right now, just a day after saying goodbye to my sister Christine, I and the rest of my family, can finally begin what I’m sure will be the very long process of healing.

I can’t speak for my mom or my siblings, nor the dozens of people who knew my sister and will have their own bit of healing to do. I can only speak for myself and my right now. Of course, for me the sadness is raw. I haven’t said this publicly until this moment, but I was the person who found my sister after she’d gone missing for a day. I’ve been reliving those moments in my head almost all day, everyday, since Monday night. I already realize that I’ll never be able to wash away the memories of the week, but I recognize that I’m probably going to need to seek some professional assistance to work through it, something I never thought I would have to do.

Of all the things that made me cry this week, it was the countless personal messages I’ve been receiving from friends and family, and even strangers who my sister touched in some way. Crying is therapeutic, and no matter how a person may feel about offering such words of condolence, I think it’s important to know that it doesn’t matter what was said or how it was said. Just the fact that someone found the strength to reach out means the world to the person who is grieving. To that, I offer my sincerest appreciation to everyone who reached out to us. Please know that however small you might think your gesture was, it meant the world to us.

Chrissy’s wake was surreal, as you can imagine. Being a part of her immediate family, I felt like a ping pong ball all day, with people waiting sometimes five deep, to offer their condolences.To all of you who came, especially on my behalf, and with whom I could only spare just a moment or two, I want you to know that through all the blur of yesterday, I remember that you came, and that you came not only out of respect for my sister, but out of love for me. My love for each and every one of you is returned tenfold.

I wish I could bottle up all if the humanity we experienced this week and keep it for all time. As happens, though, I know that life will continue and in some way that humanity will dissipate, sadly. We’ll maintain our political opinions and our personal issues with those in our lives, and that’s too bad. That’s really the tragedy of life. Well, not for me anymore. I know that life is too precious, too short, to be angry or to hold grudges. Right now, I have nothing but love for my family, for my friends, and for the compassionate side of my fellow human beings.

They say it often brings tragedy to bring people together, and I experienced that first-hand this week. In the days and weeks to come, I’m going to build on this, hold onto all that love, and carry it with me wherever I go. It is my hope that some who read my words will take them and run with them too. Reach out to those with whom you may be estranged and truly miss deep inside, give someone a hug, treat people with kindness. My heart is full right now, not only with sadness, but with love for you all. From the bottom of my heart, thank you!

Baby Sister

If you looked at my sister's Facebook page, it would be easy to see the type of person she was, the things that were near and dear to her heart, her humor, her sentimental spirit, and most of all, her ever-present glimmer of hope.  I've been perusing her Facebook page on and off ever since she passed on Monday night and I can't help but feel that I wished I'd looked at it more before then.  Though I felt like I already knew her before, and I did, the things she posted there, oftentimes simple little memes or GIF's about animals, the good old days, family, and lots more completed the three-dimensional image that was her essence.

I don't know if anyone can prepare themselves for the loss of a child, or in my particular case, a sibling  No matter how often or how little you interact with one another, there is a bond that exists with an immediate family member because you've been a constant in one another's lives since the beginning.  I am the eldest of six siblings, and Chrissy was the baby.  I remember the night she was born, mom and dad off in the hospital and the rest of us sleepless at home with nana and grandpa babysitting, waiting for the news of whether the new baby would be a boy or a girl. Having only one brother and three sisters, I was praying for the former.  Nonetheless, when nana woke us up in the morning to tell us we had a new sister, how could any of us not still be excited?

Chrissy's first day of school

Back in those days, my family struggled financially, and not long after Christine was born, mom had to go back to work at McCrory's in the mall a few nights a week.  I, as the oldest at 13, was relegated to chief babysitter.  I changed Chrissy's diapers, prepared her bottles and fed her, and I played with her, put her to sleep, and kept her occupied all the while keeping the other foot soldiers in line until daddy came home.  This lasted a couple of years until dear Aunt Vi came to mine, and Chrissy's rescue.

Though Aunt Vi loved us all, everyone always knew that Chrissy was the apple of her eye.  Whereas Aunt Vi saved me from my job as chief, cook, and bottle washer, Chrissy saved her from the despair of being newly widowed.  My sister gave her purpose, and a companion, and the two of them spent the next few years doing homework together, playing cards, and Aunt Vi spending all of her money buying Mister Softee for all of her friends on hot summer nights.  It was one of the happiest times in my aunt's life.  The two of them were the infamous frick and frack for those formative years of my sister's life, and her passing a little over ten years ago left a hole in Chrissy's heart for the rest of her days.  One of the only comforts of this week for us is knowing that the two of them are probably playing gin rummy once again.

Dave, Chrissy and I

Sadly in the years since Christine was little she and I were never really too close again, as I went off into my adulthood and she remained a still home-bound youngster now becoming one of 'the girls.'  Though my sisters were never always bosom buddies, they did share a bond that remained throughout the years, and Chrissy, the baby, was always an integral character in that mix. 

Snapchat silliness with Gina

Throughout her adult life, my sister Christine would become a beautiful young woman, with a smile that could light up a room and small circle of really good friends who to this day would have done anything for her.  Unfortunately, not all of her friends were a positive influence.  My sister was also a very trusting person, and despite all of her attributes, she had a low self-image and a trusting nature that gave in to most anyone who paid her any attention.

For the past twenty-plus years, Chrissy's life somewhat resembled that of a pinball machine.  She moved around from place to place, spending time in both Kentucky and Florida, dodging her troubles whenever she could.  We all had our own periods of frustration with her and would sometimes lose contact, but her devotion to her family would never let that last too long.  Despite all of her troubles, we all still loved her.  Every last one of us!

Whenever Christine would be away, she always harbored a longing to return to New York, her home, and her family.  I remember most recently, when she was in Florida, that she spoke of returning for months before she actually did, and once she came back, my mom had no choice but to give her some tough love, having her try and make it on her own and alleviate her problems once and for all before she could come back into the house.  I think that we would all agree that in the last few months, she did her best.

Despite all of her own misgivings about herself, Christine was always an optimist, as anyone could plainly see from her Facebook postings.  This past holiday season was especially hopeful, as she worked hard at mending both herself and her relationships with others.  She and I had been communicating often lately, and had been making plans to do things together.  The day after Christmas, she sent me these texts:

I had a great time at your house. Thank you for being so welcoming.  I'm trying to be a better person and I appreciate my family's effort.  I feel truly blessed this holiday season.  

I told her to keep doing what she was doing and sent her a virtual hug.

Thanks John.  You always make me feel hopeful.  I love being around you.  I want to make myself proud and secondly my family.  That's why I'm doing therapy.  I'm done doing negative and I want to be surrounded with positive people.  I love you and I'm sorry I neglected you and the rest of the family.  I'm trying to make it up to everyone.  

We had a couple of more conversations like that in the days after, and during the last one we had, a week ago today, we made plans to go to breakfast on Saturday so she could meet Vinny.  She said she was looking forward to that.  So was I.  Four days later, she was gone.

I can't tell you how much it hurt to have lost her.  I don't think that in my 55 years of life on this Earth that I've ever felt this sad.  I am proud of my sister for being the person she was, for her optimism, for her humor, for her loving spirit.  I'm not going to say goodbye to her because she will live on in my heart for the rest of my days.  I will always remember her smile, her voice, and most of all her unconditional love for me and mom, David, Linda, Ann Marie, Rhiana, and Gina.  And who knows, maybe she'll use her newfound powers to help the Yankees win the World Series this year!  Rest in peace baby sister!

         

     

You Get What You Give: A Note of Thanks and Some Advice

I am one lucky person.  Well maybe not that lucky.  I am at a point in my life where a lot of things are starting to click.  Big changes are about to happen and for the first time in my life that I can remember, I feel really good about where life is headed.  If you read my last post, you'll know that after twenty years in my house, I have decided to sell.  It's one of the biggest decisions I've ever made and as the days have passed since that post, I'm actually starting to get excited...but that's not what I wanted to talk about...

When I posted It's Happening the other night, it was late.  I pretty much hit the 'publish' button and called it a night.  Well, I woke up the next morning to almost 500 page views, 80 likes and 50-plus comments on Facebook, as well as several texts and messages, all entirely supportive of my decision.  I was literally overwhelmed with emotion from it all.  I even heard from people I hardly connect with much anymore, and it just got me to thinking of how lucky, yet not so lucky I am.

I'm lucky because I have a support system of incredible people around me...friends, family, colleagues, and even simple acquaintances.  I don't always remember that until something like this comes along and boom, even the simplest of gestures gives me a feeling like no other.  I am humbled and feel very blessed. 

Once the house had been put up just yesterday and I posted the pictures my friend and realtor Ricardo had taken, the love and support flooded me all over again.  Lol, I don't know if it's the gay or the Italian in me, but I shed tears several times from all the compassion.  I just want to say here and now thank you to each and every person who reached out to me over the past several days.  Having every single one of you in my life is a blessing that I cherish!

That being said, I am a firm believer that this isn't all luck, and thus this teacher's advice to any of you reading.  You always get back what you give, and I like to think that the love and support that I give to anyone in my life is what I am feeling back right now.  I'm not saying I'm perfect, but I think I'm someone who's heart is always in the right place and, well I think I'm a fun person to be around, too, so...

So please take heed this little whatever you might call it.  If you're genuine and kind you're going to find that that it will come back to you tenfold.  I am proof of that.  If you don't behave this way, well, karma can be a bitch.  There's not nearly enough kindness in the world, so if you want to feel the love like I have these past few days, then you've got to give it!   

 

Diego

I've just spent the better part of the last two and a half days crying, and the floodgate of tears came to an ebb at 7:17 yesterday morning.  I sit here, 24 hours later, still in disbelief.  Diego, my little fluffy monster lost his life.  He was only nine years old.

There are so many things related to this death that make it so hard to deal with.  He'd been sick for several months now with diabetes, but he was doing well lately...really well.  Yet it was his disease that ultimately killed him.  Of course, any death comes with grief, and especially when it's someone or some animal who has been around, living with you all the time.  A pet is a part of your family, and since I have no partner and no children, he and Dylan were...are...my family.

Mourning Diego is not my only issue today and going forward because I'm not the only one mourning.  Dylan and Diego have been together since day one.  Though they look nothing alike, they are brothers from the same litter.  The only thing they shared physically was the fact that they both have extra digits...Hemingway cats.  These two spent every waking moment together, cuddling, playing, fighting, eating, and whatnot.  From the moment I came home after leaving Diego at the animal hospital on Tuesday night, Dylan has been sad.  His buddy's missing.

Wednesday was a roller coaster day.  I received both good reports and bad ones about Diego's progress, but I believed throughout that he was coming home.  I went to sleep that night happily imagining the reunion of those two.  What a sight that would have been!  Unfortunately, that reunion was never meant to be, and I can only hope that poor Dylan comes to accept that his brother won't be back.

At the moment, I can't have any interaction with my other baby, my lil panther, without crying.  He and I have an intimate connection, and somehow I know he knows that his brother is gone and he is sad.  I caught him laying in the cat carrier late Wednesday night, lying on the towel that Diego had laid on last Saturday on his last trip to the vet.  At feeding time, when I call him to come eat, he runs into the kitchen looking around for his little buddy.  And during the night, in bed, where the three of us always slept together, Dylan is restless, constantly looking over the side of the bed for his brother to come up and join us.  My heart breaks for Dylan, as well.

  

I adopted Diego and Dylan when they were just about eight weeks old, back in April of 2008. Though I'd said that I would never again have a pet after my first cat, Spike, passed about six months prior, I'd been newly single and I wanted one to call my very own, only before beginning my search for them, I had already decided that I wanted two cats.  Spike had been the only one for sixteen years and I always felt bad for him because he always seemed lonely.  At least with these two, I knew they wouldn't be lonely whenever I wasn't around.  And it didn't take long for me to find these two...

From the start Dylan and Diego brought great joy into my life, as pets do, and for the last nine years these two brothers have had their fair share of playful moments, getting into mischief, and just plain adoreable-ness!  They've been all I've had for a family in all of these years I've been alone and I'm grateful for both of them.    

Feline Diabetes

A few months back, around September, Diego had started to lose a lot of weight and hair along his spine.  Admittedly, I hadn't noticed the severity of either condition until my friend Bobby pointed it out to me.  When you're present around someone or animal all the time you tend not to notice such things.  I rushed him to the vet as soon as I realized this was serious.  The vet had to run some tests on Diego, and she told me that it was either a thyroid condition, diabetes, or something else...I don't remember at this point, only that she told me to hope for the thyroid because it was the easiest to take care of.

The next morning, I got a call saying that Diego did indeed have diabetes.  Apparently diabetes has become very common in both cats and dogs these days, and although the treatment...insulin shots every 12 hours...seems like a big commitment to make, I loved Diego and I was readily willing to take it on.  The doctor assured me it would eventually become easy, and it did... maybe too easy.

Diabetes is a serious condition in humans, and in animals.  It killed my father after torturing him for years with its many side effects, yet I'm not so sure if I ever took it as seriously with Diego because it became so easy to take care of and the insulin shots seemed to have brought him back to normal in just a couple of months.  I became complacent, and even thought about him dropping down to one shot a day instead of two while I was away on a planned trip in a couple of weeks, just so that my friends wouldn't have to deal with coming here twice a day.  I realize now that would have been stupid!  So, for any of you dog or cat owners out there who's beloved pet gets diagnosed with diabetes, all I can say is take it seriously, and never ever forget that without the proper care, terrible things can happen.      

So, I sit here with a heavy heart, but I know with time it will get better, for both Dylan and for I.  But it'll be a long, long time...maybe forever, that I will be missing the purrs and the unconditional love bestowed upon me by my beautiful, gentle little Diego.  I apologize for so many pictures, but even though I am prejudiced, I think he was one of God's most beautiful creatures.  Don't you agree?  Rest in peace baby!

   

Still Family

It's been a really long time coming...a little lunch date with young Miss Skylar.  She first messaged me on Instagram after seeing me post a lot of pictures from Europe back in April and we first made tentative plans to see each other way back then.  After a couple of conflicting dates, we finally found time to make a date for today.

Skylar Rose is the niece of my ex, Joe, and I've known her since the day she was born.  In fact, her little corner of Joe's great big family was the one in which accepted me into the fold first, and they all hold a special place in my heart. I have to admit, I was a teensy bit nervous right before our date this afternoon...I mean, Skylar's a young adult now at 16 years old and I haven't really had much contact with her since she was about 8.  All was for naught, though, as I now feel as if I've got a brand new young adult in my life...still my niece...and still Skylar Rose.

Lunch with Skylar was pretty comfortable and wonderful at the same time.  Like the very cool and mature little girl that she was as a tyke, she is equally mature as a mid to late teenager.  She'd told me earlier how she'd discovered my blog through my page on Facebook and there were a couple of posts that she found particularly moving. There was one I had written right after Joe's dad's funeral about me lamenting that I only got to see this whole family, of which I was once a part of, at funerals (see Funerals and Sentimentality, but No Weddings), but never on happy occasions, and another reflective piece written last year on the anniversary of mine and Joe's breakup (see Seven Years).  Of course these were some of the things that came up during our conversation, but there was a lot more.

We spent the two-plus hours catching up, doing a lot of reminiscing, and getting to know one another again.  The whole thing just felt good.  Sitting there and hearing her recall some of the things she remembers about me that I had forgotten gave me such a warm feeling inside...my little rendition of the "peanut butter jelly" song I sang endlessly one Thanksgiving, making the kids wiggle their butts whilst batting in a backyard baseball game, and me taking a page off my nana's book pretending to push their car out of the driveway whenever they'd leave after a visit.  Knowing that those little things made an impact kinda make me feel like I do as a teacher...I'm pretty lucky to have had her and her sisters and her cousins to do those things with.

I learned all about the latest goings on in the family that I'd once been a part of, and as we spoke about each individual, memories came rushing through my brain and I was instantly missing them all. I guess I'm still feeling the same way as I was when I wrote that piece on funerals.  These days, though, another person has taken my place, but little Miss Skylar reminded me that I am not ex-family...I am still family.  Love you!  

  

It Was the Sixth of May

Though it is finally spring and the weather makes everything all nice again, this particular time of year is also one of reflection and sadness for my family.  You see, six years ago tomorrow, my dad, George Myers, passed away.  It's hard to believe it's been that log, but not a day goes by that I, and everyone else in my family, don't miss him.

Since I missed his birthday last month, April 2nd (I left for Europe that day...of course with thoughts of him in my head!), and I don't want to go the whole season without remembering and honoring him in some way.  So I'm posting a piece I wrote for Yahoo Voices on the day that he died, May 6th, 2009.  Read on...

I woke up this morning, as I do many mornings, with a song in my head.  Only the tune that landed in my head today was related to what was going to happen in just a little while.  The song, “Papa Was a Rolling Stone”, by the Temptations opens with the lines I’m still hearing now as I write this:

It was the third of September.

The day I’ll always remember,

Cause that was the day my daddy died.

Today George Myers, my father, passed on, and I awoke this morning knowing that it was going to happen.  We’d been dreading it for four days now, knowing that any hope of survival was near zero percent.  From the moment he was taken into the hospital, we were told that he had gone far too long without oxygen and that his brain was no longer functioning.  As the hours and days passed, we knew this was the one time he wasn’t going to beat it. 

We’d decided late last night to remove the support machines keeping his body alive, but we had to put it off for today because one of us was unable to be on hand.  It was an unpleasant situation, to say the least.  We all wanted to get past this anguish.  And having to wait until morning, waking up with the knowledge that your dad was going to die, is just too odious a circumstance to be in. 

Twenty eight years ago, my dad was diagnosed with Diabetes.  At first, none of us had been too familiar with the disease, but what we did know it was controllable one if you followed the guidelines associated with the having the condition.  In the beginning, dad was great about it.  He quit smoking.  He stopped drinking.  Changing his dietary habits, though, proved too difficult for him and this allowed this debilitating sickness to attack his body slowly and steadily for so long.

Early on, dad’s kidneys began to malfunction and he was sent to undergo dialysis treatments three times a week.  He was placed on a list for a kidney transplant.  I hadn’t known what dialysis was at first, and I don’t wish to speak of it here, but I know from dad’s experiences that it is not pleasant.

As is common with diabetics, one problem invariably leads to other problems.  To make things easier for his dialysis treatments, his doctor placed a plastic shunt in his arm.  I recall almost immediately there were infections, blockages, and other problems associated with the multiple shunts that were eventually placed within his arms.  These problems foreshadowed the more serious and painful things to come.  I can’t possibly recall the numerous problems dad’s experienced over the years, but here are some I remember:

-          - While working in a local supermarket, a 2 liter bottle of soda fell off a shelf and landed on dad’s big toe.  An infection began to materialize.  That was in May.  By August, the infection had gotten so bad; he had to be hospitalized for over six weeks.  It was the first time we thought we were going to lose him, but he persevered and eventually pulled through.

-         - A little over ten years ago, dad got a call that a person with a donor kidney had passed and he needed to get to the hospital ASAP.  In what turned out to be his happiest hospital stay, dad’s surgery was successful and he got to spend Christmas with the greatest gift he’s ever received.  Dialysis was now a thing of the past.

-          -About two years ago, dad began to have trouble hearing in his right ear.  It was soon discovered that he had a massive, benign tumor growing on his cerebrum.  With his state of health, surgical treatment was not an option, so he underwent 39 radiation treatments.  Soon after the treatments had finished, his hearing improved once again, but his new kidney had begun to fail.  In what turned out to be the beginning of his end, dialysis treatments once again became a necessity.

-          -A more recent infection on his foot hadn’t been responding to treatments.  Intravenous antibiotics were no help as circulation problems were preventing the medicines from reaching the infected site.  A surgical bypass on his leg was ordered by his vascular doctor.  During pre-surgical testing, though, a blockage was found in his heart and a resulting angioplasty put off the vascular bypass.  The cardiac procedure was successful, and he was released from the hospital with the infected ulcer still oozing and painful on his foot.

-          -Two weeks ago, and six weeks after the angioplasty, dad was brought back in to the hospital for the original vascular bypass to help fight the infection, which had gotten so bad that he had developed tendinitis in his Achilles tendon which prevented him from walking anymore.  He had had to give up his job and his car, which crushed him.  This surgery was successful, and the infection had begun to heal.

These episodes represent only a fraction of the seemingly countless health-related issues dad has had to contend with.  Late night phone calls became all too familiar.  Every time there was a new emergency, the situation led from a dire to insignificant, a false alarm.  Dad took each case in stride, with rarely an utterance of complaint, even through two toe amputations (Though he always hated the needles!).  We became too used to these episodes, expecting the same result each time.  We’d lulled ourselves into a belief that dad was a fighter who’d always bounce back and be around for years to come.  But it wasn’t meant to be this time.

The day after dad came out of the hospital, he experienced this episode which ultimately led us to today.  Now I've skipped ahead a bit from the first part of this story, but this part of dad’s story is more pertinent to the freedom from suffering he earned today.  Having been faced with the decision we all made, we knew we had no choice.  Dad deserved no more pain. 

In the end, he passed peacefully with his wife, his six children and other significant people in his life all around him.  The room was filled with anguish, devotion, love and a sense of collective relief as George finally let go of all that pain. 

So long dad!  I love you!

It was the sixth of May…

An Awesome Weekend of Birthday Fabulousness!

It was a busy weekend.  It was a fun weekend.  It was a weekend full of birthday celebrations from start to finish and it's about freaking time!  It seems like it's been forever since I've enjoyed myself as much as I did this weekend.  The birthdays I helped celebrate all belonged to special people and so this last weekend of February and first into March was one that I'll remember for a long, long time to come.

 

Happy Birthday Manny!

The plan was two trips into the city on Friday and Sunday, with a family birthday party for my nephew Jake sandwiched in between on Saturday.  First up on Friday night was an evening of debauchery for my pal Manny's birthday.  His birthday is actually today, but Monday's not really a good night for going out, and so he, our friend Ozzie and I traipsed into NYC for a little fun with Manny's friends Norberto and Raj at the Fairytail Lounge and then on to Icon in Astoria for a nightcap and some dancing.  I'll spare you any gory details, but let's just say it was great to be with these two friends for such a fun night!

Happy Birthday Jake!

My youngest nephew is a teenager.  My brother's younger son turned 13 years old on Saturday and after spending an awesome day with him seeing Wicked a few weeks back, I was only too glad to spend his special day with him.  Until that jaunt into the city I'd never really spent much time with Jake, and I'm so glad that we took that trip because for the first time I really got to know him as a person.  All I can say about that is he is one awesome kid...um, young man!  Jake, you rock!  Happy Birthday!

  

Happy Birthday Blanchie!

Last, but certainly not least was the best part of my weekend.  You see, tomorrow one of my oldest friends, Bobby, will be joining the '50 Club,' and me and our third Rich treated him to see Kinky Boots on Broadway,  The three of us spent the awesomest of days together in the snow-covered city laughing, dining and enjoying a spectacular show.  Though I consider many of my friends a part of my extended family, these two are my real family, and it was nice to be just the three of us together. The only sucky part was an awful ride home because a murky forecast of snow turning to freezing rain was mostly snow...and a lot of it!  Poor Dita had to drive us for the better part of a two and a half hour ride through unplowed expressway to get home.  That didn't stop the mood of the day, though, as the ride was full of good music and good friends, just like the day had been.

Anyway, since I feel like a lot of the time lately I've been writing about negative stuff (it's been a long winter!), I wanted to share a good time for a change.  So for what it's worth, happy birthday to Manny, Jake and Blanche!  I love you all and I'm lucky to have each of you in my life!

   

Christmas in El Tabo, Conclusion: No Rest for the Weary

(continued from Part IV.) We got back into the car to go back to El Tabo and that's when the phone rang...

It was Rodrigo's mom.  She was inviting the three of us to come to their cabin for 'once' (pronounced [ohn-se], as in 'eleven' in Spanish).  'Once' is sort of like British tea time, only with a Chilean flavor, and it is very customary in Chile.  She also wanted us to pick up Leandro and Uncle Nanu, who were going to watch the house while we were away.  

'once'

Though we still had a lot to do and it was late in the day, the last part of that request was a necessity, and since we were already in the same area where they were, off we went for 'once.'  I have to say, Jorge was a real trooper, showing a lot of patience trying to find this resort, which was inland and upwards a bit.  After several wrong turns, we finally made it.

The resort was actually a beautiful, quiet place located on a rustic hillside and nestled with lots of tiny cabin-like houses.  It seemed like a vacation spot for the well-to-do, with manicured lawns and all of the houses painted in a uniform pristine white color.  Rodrigo's family had rented one of these and once we found our way into the resort parking lot, we found them rather quickly.

In all, we spent about an hour with the family, with mom serving us the typical 'once' of cheese, ham, bread, and blech, tea!  She chatted away about nothing and everything at once, and my only respite was a tour of the grounds by dad, which was nice!

By the time we were ready to leave it was already getting dark and cold and since we had a long drive in the morning (12 hours worth!), we knew sleep was essential, but getting much of it was going to be next to impossible.  We dropped Rodrigo, Leandro and Nanu off at Jorge's and then he and I headed back to mama's to shower.  It was already close to midnight.

By this time, I'd already had a couple of visits with Jorge's family, so I was totally comfortable and actually enjoyed myself with his mom, his sisters Maria Eugenia and Erika, and her daughter Massael, who were all wide awake and chatty.  Two showers and a couple of cups of coffee later(Chileans LOVE their coffee!), we headed home to pack and try and get some shut eye, but not so fast!

Now I thought I was disorganized when it came to packing for a trip, but watching these two made my head spin!  Chaos...utter chaos!  I smoked a few cigarettes, checked my Facebook, called home, and sat with Uncle Nanu for at least two to three hours as Jorge and Rodrigo got their things together. By the time they had finished, it was around 3 a.m., and we then sat down for a glass or two of wine before heading off finally to sleep.  Jorge had set the alarms for 5 a.m.!  Christmas?  What Christmas? 

Check out the rest of this crazy, chaotic Christmas in El Tabo below:

Christmas Eve

A Christmas Morning Surprise

Christmas Lunch and a Visit to Patricio's

A Road Trip to Algorrobo

Stay tuned for some more of my Chilean Adventure coming soon.

     

Christmas in El Tabo, Part II: A Christmas Morning Surprise

Even though we went to bed very late on Christmas Eve, I still didn't sleep well when I did go to bed. You see, December is summertime in Chile and so the bugs were out, and there are these kind of super mosquitoes down there that are very deliberate and very, um, ,pesky.  I had one in my room that drove me bonkers all night long, buzzing all around my head and giving me some very itchy bites all over my body.  Blech!  That all did not bode well for what was to come next, as I didn't fall asleep until around 6:30 A.M.

The next thing I knew, I heard Rodrigo's phone ringing in the other room.  I think the ring jolted us all into awareness that we'd slept enough.  It was just before noon.  Rodrigo's conversation was short, and I could hear the two of them talking with fervor after he hung up.  In about two seconds, Jorge knocked on my door and I was jolted awake!

John, get up!  We gotta get ready.  We're getting company.  With that, the front door opened as Jorge added, Rodrigo's whole family is here!  Holy crap!

I had no time to prepare myself for what happened next.  In just ten seconds the small house was filled with Rodrigo's family, who were stopping by for a Christmas visit on their way to a cabin in nearby Algorrobo for a family vacation.  They were all there...his mom and dad, two uncles, a couple of nieces and a nephew, and they filled both the inside and the outside of the house with typical familial chaos.

Merry Christmas!

The next couple of hours or so was a whirlwind of uncomfortableness for all three of us.  The unannounced visit was bad enough for Rodrigo, but poor Jorge.  These were his in-laws.  And as for me, well, let's just say between my always initial shyness and the fact that none of them spoke a word of English, it was awkward to say the least.

At one point towards the beginning of the visit, I went outside for a cigarette, right near where Rodri's Uncle Nanu was standing...

Esquizofrenia!

Rodrigo gave me a warning about his strange-looking older uncle who was missing most of his front teeth.  He was moving his forefinger in a clockwise motion as he said it.  I just smiled and nodded at the man while I enjoyed my smoke. The whole family pretty much ignored me anyway, thankfully, except Rodrigo's mom who was very pleasant and sweet.  She chitchatted with us in the dining room as we dined on an impromptu 'tea' of ham, cheese and bread.  That's what Chileans do...they eat...just like Italians, lol.  Dad wasn't as pleasant, very stern, and he spent most of his time outside surveying the outside of the house, apparently looking for faults to criticize.

Al in all, the whole visit was short, thankfully, and that's because Jorge, Rodrigo and I had been invited to Jorge's mom's at two o'clock for lunch.  The whirlwind that started that Christmas morning had finished, and it was only been the beginning of what would become a long, adventurous day!

...stay tuned for more...

Check out the first 'chapter' of my Christmas in El Tabo right here.

A Song of the Day for Mom - Birthday - Katy Perry

On this day 72 years ago, a baby girl was born to Joe and Mary Randazzo in New York City.  The couple named their little girl Joan and they were happy because now they had a boy and a girl to complete their family.  Joan grew up with her parents, her brother Robert, and her grandmother 'Mema' in Harlem, but eventually moved to the Bronx, which was then "the country" and where she spent the remainder of her childhood years and the early part of her marriage before moving to Long Island.  

Growing up, and throughout her life, mom was daddy's little girl, as well as the apple of both Mema and dear old Aunt Vi's eyes.  She learned to love sports through grandpa, how to love unconditionally through her grandma, and how to dress well through Aunt Vi.  Yes, mom is an avid Yankees, Rangers, Knicks and Jets fan and she's the one who passed on that devotion to the rest of us.  I'll get to the unconditional love part below, but I'll also say here that mom has always had a great fashion sense, something which I'm grateful she passed on to me.  With all of that attention from those three, my mom and her mom were never really that close, though like any mother, my Nana loved my mom very much.

Mom graduated from Cathedral High School somewhere in the late 50's.  Cathedral was an all-girls Catholic school and I think maybe that's why, from the stories I've heard, as a teenager mom probably gave my grandparents some stresses along the way with the boys. Back then, Joan was thin and beautiful and I'm sure she got a lot of attention from the guys. Eventually, though, she met, dated and then married the man who would become my dad, George Myers.

Mom and dad lived an up and down marriage for almost 50 years.  Like most relationships, things started out really good at the beginning and then waned as their family grew, but eventually they grew into the sort of familial companionship that so many evolve into over the years.  You see, my dad was a high school dropout and worked as an unskilled laborer in a warehouse in the Bronx.  The job didn't pay too well, I'm sure, and the financial stresses of raising six kids on his salary often made dad grumpy.  To make matters worse, he'd been an only child growing up and so he didn't know too much being a father other than bringing home the bread.  This left mom in the role of being both parents. 

During their marriage, mom and dad produced six children: me, my brother Dave and my four sisters Linda, Ann Marie, Gina and Christine.  Each of us has given mom our fair share of grief and worry over the years, but her unconditional love and caring for us all sowed the seeds of love and admiration we all feel for her in our own ways, whether she knows it or not.  Today her two grandchildren, Nick and Jake, are the newest recipients of grandma's love. 

Overall, mom hasn't had an easy life.  She's survived the loss of her first-born, Kenneth, the struggles of affording to live a financially comfortable life within an oftentimes unhappy marriage, acting as the sole parent and intermediator between dad and us, and she lived for years with a very sick husband.  Through it all, though, her friendly, outgoing, humorous and kind soul earned her a lot of friendships that she's cherished and enjoyed throughout. 

More than five years ago, mom lost her husband, my dad, and his absence within the family unit has left a wound within all of us that's been difficult to overcome.  I can never imagine what she's been going through these past five-plus years, as not only dad left this world, but too her father two years prior and Aunt Vi just two months after.  Losing those three very important people in her life in such a short period of time has to have been difficult, for all of a sudden mom had to depend primarily herself for survival for the first time in her life. She still works, at 72, but I think that's part of what keeps her young.

Mom doesn't always realize how her children feel about her.  No, ours isn't a perfect family, it never has been, but we all know deep within our hearts that mom has always done the best she could in her marriage and as a mother to us.  Throughout our lives, mom has given us so much, laughter and tears, joy and sorrow, and love...lots of love.  So, this song is dedicated to you mom, Happy Birthday and may you enjoy many, many more to come...   

Happy Birthday Mom!