One for All, All for One

As displayed in the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, after World War II, German Lutheran Pastor Martin Niemöller had a well known quote which he repeated numerous times, about the guilt he had over his lack of action and complicity during the rise of Nazism.

It is said that if you don't know your history, you are bound to repeat it.  When I attended public elementary school I was taught American History one year and World History the following year.  These were mandatory classes that helped me understand not only how big the world was and the significant events that took place that changed it, but in fact how small we are in retrospect.  That we are actually a part of a bigger picture, one world and that we share many of the same values of love of family and the pursuit of happiness. 

Over the years, our public education system has deteriorated to the detriment of our society where the only history being taught is the one-sided view of the state the students reside in.  Note that I am not just talking about the schools in the South but the fact that I know someone about my age from the midwest that had never heard of the Holocaust, is indicative of the endemic complacency that has taken over this nation.

Given what is happening in this country with the "fixing" of the voting regulations that are intentionally being designed to make it harder for people to use their one voice through the power of the vote, it is worth adapting the above quote to today's situation, with no disrespect to the original author, or to the members of the Jewish community:

First they came for the people of color, and I did not speak out—because I was not a person of color.

Then they came for the LGBTQ, and I did not speak out—because I was not an LGBTQ.

Then they came for the Non-Evangelical Christian, the Muslims. the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was either not part of those groups or afraid to speak out.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.

As a Puerto Rican, whose family in Puerto Rico can vote in the presidential election but not for those that officially represent them in Washington, unless they move to FL or another state like NJ where my parents moved in the 60's and were automatically granted that right, I understand and can relate to the disaffected "US citizens".  Especially after Hurricane Maria and the response of the Federal Government (the withholding of precious funds, the denigration of US citizens with the throwing of the paper towels, the talks of exchanging them for Greenland)...etc. I value my right to Vote and have faithfully exercised it at every opportunity, especially for my people in 2020 as I wrote about regarding the disappearance of our Moral Compass.

Now for the much needed history lesson.  

Originally, the right to vote was actually not for all citizens but for white men only.  It wasn't until after the Civil War in 1868 that the 14th Amendment was passed that granted African Americans all rights accorded any other US citizen.  

As described in the official US Government Archives site regarding the 14th Amendment:  

A major provision of the 14th Amendment was to grant citizenship to “All persons born or naturalized in the United States,” thereby granting citizenship to formerly enslaved people.

Another equally important provision was the statement that “nor shall any state deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.”

This would obviously include the right to Vote.

The 15th Amendment, approved by Congress in 1870, was required to clarify that right given the laws passed predominantly in Southern States, that were aimed at restricting that right given by the 14th Amendment.  Specifically, the official US Government Archives web page describing the rationale for the 15th Amendment clearly says:

African Americans exercised the right to vote and held office in many Southern states through the 1880s, but in the early 1890s, steps were taken to ensure subsequent “white supremacy.” Literacy tests for the vote, “grandfather clauses” excluding from the franchise all whose ancestors had not voted in the 1860s, and other devices to disenfranchise African Americans were written into the laws of former Confederate states.

As crazy as that sounds, it wasn't until the 19th amendment to the Constitution, passed by Congress in 1919 and ratified in 1920, that the right to vote was granted to women as follows:

The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of sex.

USA Today had a comprehensive story on the path it took women to obtain this fundamental right.

Then, the 26th amendment to the Constitution, gave the right to vote for any US Citizen 18 years of age or older.

The right of citizens of the United States, who are eighteen years of age or older, to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of age.

Now, both in the 19th Amendment, and in the 26th Amendment, the words that jumped out at me were "shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State"

So getting back to why and what compelled me to write this post.  The rights of a US Citizen to vote, has had to be clarified and re-enforced numerous times through legislation.  Because for one reason or another, there is someone that feels they need to restrict that right from others because of how different they are, their different beliefs, or even in some cases, that the other person is "beneath" that of their own kind.  

Around the time of the last election, Time Magazine, had a story on the attempts at restricting the votes of minorities, especially the African American community.  Who knew that this would be the beginning of a trend that has only accelerated as time goes on and continues to this day and election.  I had someone tell me just last year that they should eliminate the Sunday Souls to the Polls because too many black people vote.  

The combination of this comment, along with the articles I have referenced above, and the constant laws being passed restricting this right is why I felt compelled to speak out and say something before My own rights were taken away.

Let me state this as clearly as I can.  ALL US CITIZENS, regardless of color, race, age (at least over 18), sex, beliefs and values have the RIGHT TO VOTE for who we believe represents us and our values.  I am not suggesting that you vote for who I Vote for but I am absolutely saying that in no way is YOUR vote more important than MY vote.  We should expand that capability to online registration and voting because if it is secure enough to file my taxes, change my address, pay my bills through online banking and do everything else online, it is clearly safe enough to vote as well.

For those that really need to learn about the Constitution, so you can accurately quote the things that you think you know, like for example the 2nd amendment, here is a great pocketsize booklet with the Constitution, the Amendments, the Bill of Rights and all of the important things every citizen should really know.  I got my copy.  Will you get yours?  At about $2, it's cheaper than a bad cup of coffee but better for you and everyone else you share this nation with.

Also, let's bring American and World history classes back to Elementary School.  Who knows, the students may actually learn something that would help us avoid repeating history.

We can do better

We can do better.  About a month ago, Dan and I were talking about what it was like to raise a child in "today's" environment.  The challenges of parenting, especially to a young little baby girl are compounded by the political environment, the never ending pandemic, the insane amount of guns threatening everyday life in schools, movie theaters, parks, churches,... no matter where you go.

Add to this the hate.  I mean the real hatred that everyday Americans have for one another.  At one point, until recently it seemed as though the majority of Americans valued the cultural differences that this great nation's melting pot fostered.  We relished the opportunity to go to Chinatown, Little Italy, an authentic Indian or Japanese restaurant.  We all wore green on St. Patrick's day and downed our fair share of Margaritas on Cinco de Mayo.  We raised our flags on the 4th of July and enjoyed hot dogs together at the local baseball park until we stood up for the 7th inning stretch singing Sweet Caroline.

Then it happened.  Like the flip of a switch, the undercurrent of hostility, racism, animosity towards one another came to the forefront and became an everyday occurrence for us. It was everywhere you turned.  You could not go to a store without hearing someone yelling at another person for them to "go home".  

When I moved to SC from NJ, the common question was where are you from and what church did you go to?  Now it is where are you from, no, really from.  People wearing t-shirts saying "If you have problems with this flag, let me know and I will help you pack your bags".

What happened to the great melting pot?  The common thread that made us unique in who we are, a people with a common goal to provide the opportunity for any person of this great country to pursue the American Dream and make our children's lives better than our own.

In 1931, James Truslow Adams wrote in The Epic of America, “The American Dream is that dream of a land in which life should be better and richer and fuller for everyone, with opportunity for each according to ability or achievement."

That philosophy is rooted in the Declaration of Independence that clearly states: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of happiness.”

Our family's favorite pastor is Jorge Acevedo from Grace United Methodist Church in Cape Coral, FL.  In a recent service and sermon, Pastor Jorge addresses a topic that frankly, I wish all clergy from all of the churches would have addressed years before we got to this point.  Specifically about 57 minutes into the sermon (but frankly the whole sermon is worth watching) he addresses the polarization of the American political culture.  

I won't spoil it for those that should watch it but needless to say, I personally believe this is one of the primary causes of our problems, among many others that have planted the seeds of animosity towards others as I have described above.

On a slightly different note, but within the same theme, on Amazon Prime day, I was presented with a doll that was on sale. I thought, maybe I could buy one for my new granddaughter.  Yes, she is too young but Prime day comes once a year, I thought.  As I perused the different ones they had, my jaw dropped when I came across the last one.

"One of these things is not like the other"

Why on earth would the only doll representing a person of color have straight, purple hair, light hazel eyes but to really highlight the discrepancy that jumped out at me, not be as affordable or on sale as the others?  All the other "American Girl" dolls were on sale for $69 but not this one which was almost twice the cost at $115.  Whether it was intentional and in poor taste, neglect by a quality control team or a supplier asleep at the wheel, we would never know.  My point about the doll's hair and eyes is not that people of color don't paint their hair or use contacts that change the color of their eyes but why did the designer of the dolls go out of their way to change a person's natural beauty?

In the town of Greenville, 10 minutes from where I live, during the summer they have a Latin dance event once a month for about 3 months.  It gives my wife and I an opportunity to head downtown and dance to Latin music, typically from a band from the Carolinas, where it is not just the Spanish speaking members of the community that come to dance but many times we see people from all walks of life, dancing in the nightlight to the rhythm of the beat.   

I want to get back to those days.  That to me is when America was on the right path to being great.  While we still had a way to go to reach the American Dream stated earlier, we respected and valued the difference in each other.  When we appreciated each other and accepted people for who they are and the cultural difference we each contributed to this great melting pot.

To my sons Dan and Nick.  The reason your mom and I decided to have a family was because we knew we could make the world a better place with you guys in it.  That you both would be the best of what we had to offer the world and that we would know that the values we instilled in both of you would be shared by you guys with others. 

To you and everybody else I say the following:

We can do better.  We must do better.

V A N I L L A

A Year in the making.

I have been planning for this day for over a year.  The day that I would celebrate my birthday with my new birthday companion.  My birthday buddy Kaden who was born on Aug 25th to fill a gap that I had in my soul after my original birthday buddy, my Mom, passed away.

Everyone that knows me knows how I felt about my birthday starting with the year mom passed away which I called my half birthday.  After that year, I did not really feel like celebrating my birthday anymore.  It was a very sad day with all of the Facebook memories and people sending me messages saying how they knew I was in pain but that she was in a better place and celebrating the day with me.  Unfortunately it was not something that I could just easily "get over" especially after having lost both Dad and then Mom within roughly a year.  I was in a dark place and my birthday was not a reminder of the blessed life I had, but of the massive loss I had and especially the feeling of emptiness due to the loss of my birthday buddy.  That feeling lasted 3 birthdays until this year, 2022 when I finally had something to look forward to again for this day.

When you are young, you look forward to your birthday for the gifts and being the center of attention.  At my age, I was not looking for either but the precious memories I could continue to make of a unique day I shared with someone special in my life.

I actually have a really good friend, Mike V. from NJ, who shares that same birthday.  Every year, including the most recent dark years, I would send an email, text or voicemail and wish my brother from another mother a happy birthday.  So while I am not technically alone on my birthday, especially since I have my wife, our sons and extended family that make the day special for me, I have not been really looking forward to it or in the mood to celebrate.  

Promises Made, Promises Kept.

So for 365 days, after the news broke that Kaden was actually born on my birthday, I was planning how I would celebrate our special day together.  I knew what we were going to do but not how it would be accomplished.

We would enjoy our first ice cream together.  My new birthday buddy and grand nephew, Kaden and I would have Vanilla ice cream for our shared birthday.

I'm not really a cake person and ice cream is my achilles heel.  I believe it had to do with what I was told about my mom.  Mom apparently only wanted to eat only ice cream during her pregnancy with me.  So much so that when I was born, I weighed slightly over 5 lbs at full term.  So my sweet tooth is all about ice cream like my mom.  She absolutely loved it and as she progressed in her Alzheimer's disease, ice cream was a real treat for her that she would absolutely tear up.

In preparation for Kaden's first time eating ice cream with his birthday buddy, I spent the year looking for recipes online with the hopes of finding the best recipe for homemade Vanilla ice cream.  I even purchased a Ninja Creami ice cream maker so I can make fresh Vanilla ice cream.  

I was so excited about the ice cream maker that when I took it out of the box, the outer bowl and lid fell out of the box and onto the floor.  Needless to say, the lid broke before I even got to use it the first time.  It took a few weeks before it was available before I got my replacement. I guess the same thing has happened to others.

About a month before our birthday, I started practicing making Vanilla ice cream and also created some other flavors.  The pamphlet that came with the Ninja has a very good homemade Vanilla recipe that was spot on.  I practiced several times so that I can perfect it the day before and have fresh ice cream to share with my little buddy.  

I actually had 3 flavors I prepared.  Vanilla, Vanilla Chocolate Chip and Vanilla with fresh strawberries.  As I stated previously, we are going to have Vanilla, in honor of Mom, but I wanted to have a variety of special flavors since it was his first time eating ice cream.  

The look on Kaden's face as he was having ice cream was priceless.  He loved it, especially the one with fresh strawberries.  However the look he gave me after taking a few bites took me down.  It stopped me in my tracks as I recalled the numerous times I would feed mom and she would give me a similar look.

After I recomposed myself, everybody else jumped in and participated in the ice cream festivities. 

I did not expect to react that way and while I was delighted that Kaden liked the home made ice cream (not sure he would tell the difference or understand the significance of it being home made), it made my day and my birthday special, once again.  It had a innate feeling to be able to celebrate my birthday with a buddy.  I am sure that over time, it will become even better for us as he looks forward to that day as well and we can plan the flavors together.

That same day we paid a visit to the cemetery together to talk with mom about the special day the three of us shared.  It also was a way for me to thank mom for my new birthday buddy.

In the end, it felt "complete" having done all of this on my birthday.  I have always been one to appreciate the symbolism of things.  It's the small things or the attention to details that matter to me.   Like how we walked together holding hands.

Angela & Dylan.  Thank you for having Kaden wait until his first birthday before he tasted Ice cream.  It made the day even more special to me.  What flavor do you think we should do for next year?  Let the planning begin.

Coincidence or is something else going on?

Since the painful years of 2018 and 2019 where we lost family member after family member, every "anniversary" or birthday has been painful.  By anniversary, it could be the annual wedding anniversary or the anniversary of the day we lost a precious loved one.   

Yes, the pain is less severe and at times it shows up as just a tear or two, but it is still a hole in our hearts and a reminder of the emptiness we feel inside.  The pictures and videos, especially those that appear throughout the year on Facebook or on those special days sometimes hurt but other times just warms our hearts and reminds us of the special person who is no longer here.

Since then though, a surreal pattern has occurred that has all of us feeling like something bigger is going on, a higher power is getting involved and that it is more than just pure coincidence.

Our first loss on, March 21st 2018, was that of Miguel, Luisa's brother.  He fought an incredible fight with cancer with grace, dignity and faith that left us in awe and something to aspire to, if we ever find ourselves being led down our own painful and challenging paths. 

Exactly two years to the day of his passing, we welcomed the arrival of Miguel's grandson, Beckam.  A bundle of joy that the entire family believes Miguel had a hand in, to send him down from heaven to let us know that March 21st was a day to look forward to, not regret.

I have written before that I shared birthdays with my mom and the pain I felt when she passed away in early 2019.  For the next two birthdays, I struggled to feel complete and lacked the desire to celebrate my birthday.  It felt just like another reminder of what I lost.  Every year I looked forward to enjoying a Carvel ice cream cake with my mom and to experience the uncontrollable laughs as I gave her a hard time because of her single flavor choice - Vanilla.

After two lonely birthdays, Mom sent me a new birthday buddy, Kaden. This year, Kaden will be turning 1 and the plans are already being made for he and I to celebrate our mutual birthday with Ice Cream.  I even purchased a new Ice Cream maker so that he can enjoy homemade Ice Cream for this special day.  Yes, it will be Vanilla but I may add something special in it as well, just because.

The third "coincidence" occurred just this past week.  My father-in-law passed away two months before my mom on March 11, 2019.  Miguel Humberto, Luisa's father declined in health significantly over a period of several months but his health began to deteriorate from the stress of watching his son battle his cancer.   He was my 2nd father, and reflected the spirit and soul of the entire family.  

On March 11th, 2022, Luisa and I welcomed the birth of our first grandchild, Audriana.  Daughter to our son Dan and wife Jill, Dan had a special relationship with his grandfather "Papi Gray" as he called him.  Living life to the fullest and showing us all how to live for today, not tomorrow.

In our family, the loss of 3 of our most special anchors left us feeling empty and full of pain and despair on every anniversary since their passing.  These 3 special births, able to arrive on any of the 365 days of the year, arrived on exactly the day that we needed them most.  To change the day from a day of pain to a day of joy.  To give us a day to celebrate and laughter instead of tears.  To give us hope and to remind us of the beauty of life, and what matters most to us.

 

A Love Like You Have Never Experienced Before

Back in 1989, Luisa became pregnant with our first son, Dan.  We were ready to start our family.  It had been 4 years after we had exchanged our vows and we were anxious to begin writing the next chapter in our lives.  We had this great feeling inside that we would be great parents even if that sounds arrogant.  Of course, we had no real basis for this except that we saw the world and our role in it, the same way.  We felt we were very compatible with each other.  We shared the same views and priorities in our life.  

When Luisa was in her 4th month of pregnancy, I happened to be on a business trip in Puerto Rico.  I stayed a few days extra to visit my grandparents and relatives.  After several days there, pre-cellphone, even pre-house phones, Luisa was desperate to talk with me about a problem she was having with the pregnancy.  The doctors believed there was a problem with the baby and she was alone and I was not there to support her or be there with her or for her. 

I called home after a few days of her trying to get a hold of me and the gut punch to my stomach was immediate when I heard her voice and what was going on.  Not able to go to the house to call the airport/airline to change my flight, I ran back to my uncle's house, packed my bags and stopped by all my family's homes to say my quick goodbye and headed to the airport 2 hours away.  I prayed all of the way to the airport, asking for everything to be ok with our baby.  Anxious with tears running down my face, I actually don't remember the 2 hour trip down the mountains of Puerto Rico.  I got there as quick as I could and was able to get the next flight home.  

Fast forward 5 months, knowing that we were having a boy by then due to the scare we had, we could not wait to meet our precious Dan.  Still wondering if everything was going to be ok, we knew Luisa was going to have a C-Section due to Dan being breech, we woke up the day that he was scheduled to arrive and went to the hospital on the morning.  It had snowed outside the night before so at 5AM, we began our long, roughly 45 minute drive in our Ford Tempo to the hospital.  There was nobody on the road.  Dark due to the November day, but bright because of the white, snow covered road and the orange lights all along the highway.

I pulled up to the hospital main doors, got out, ran around the car and opened the door to make sure that Luisa did not fall out.  I grabbed the overnight back and walked her into the hospital. I ran out and parked the car in the nearby parking lot for temporary visitors.  Once back inside, I grabbed a wheelchair for Luisa and I pushed her to the area we were supposed to go, passed the doors to the other side where our lives would change.  Dan was born at roughly 8AM and all we could think about was how perfect he was and that the scare of what could be wrong with him was all for naught.  Just perfect.

A long 32 years have passed and the memories that we have created with both of our boys are just incredible.  The birthdays we have celebrated, the trips we have taken, the highs we have experienced and even the lows we have struggled through are precious memories that began that winter, snowy day.

Today, March 11th 2022, we re-lived that day through the eyes of our son Dan and daughter-in-law Jill as they took the same journey on the way to the birth of their daughter, our first grandchild, Audriana.  We got the text the night before from Dan and it started "Hey, so first off everything is ok... Jill is having contractions and the nurse recommended we come in."  

We did not sleep last night, wondering what they were going through, what they were thinking, as it brought us back to that trip down memory lane.  At 3:30 AM, I was texting Dan to see how things were going and then looked at my phone 15-30 minutes later.  Then again an hour later, and an hour later, and so on until 7AM when I finally got out of bed.  Luisa was up by 5AM and shared the message received by Dan at 5:38AM.  Audriana was coming and it would not be too long from now.

Our precious and beautiful granddaughter arrived at 9:26 to be exact.  Healthy, absolutely just perfect in every way, had made her grand entrance.  A true gift from God, about to start her life long journey with parents, grandparents, an aunt, an uncle and an extended family who have been waiting for her arrival to show her how much she is really loved. 

Looking retrospectively through the lens of what we have been through, we could not be more proud of Dan and Jill and how they have prepared for their lives to change but how ready they are to become the absolutely best parents to their new baby girl.  To experience the first touch, first kiss, first embrace and the many other firsts that will come as a result of graduating from being just a couple to a family.

Dan and Jill, you will never love anything or anyone as you will love your children.  That Love is nothing that you have experienced before and we could not be more proud to see the steps you will take with your precious daughter on this journey.  We thank you for giving mom and I our first grandchild and the first girl in our immediate family.

 

     To Audriana - Lelo and Lela Love you so much and can't wait to meet you and spoil you.

La Casita

I have written previously about how important it was for Mom to have her own house.   From as far back as I could remember, even before my teenage years, mom would sit by me on my bed and say, "Rafy, cuando tu crezca, tu me compra una casita?"  (Ralphy - when you grow older, would you buy me a house?)  I don't recall Mom ever ask for anything else.  I am sure there were lots of other things she wished for or wanted but she never let me know.

Mom was very simple.  She basically had two things on her bucket list.  Her home and her family.  She was happy with life because she had both.  

Mom grew up very poor, as my Dad told us, on dirt floors and surely had days where she would go to bed hungry.  She lived down the hill from Dad.  When I say down the hill, you could say at the bottom of the mountainside where Dad lived.  

Years ago, in the early '80s I had a chance to go to Jayuya with Luisa and I was able to see where it was that Mom lived when she was a child.  There was no real way to get to mom's house, unless it was climbing down the side of the mountain, from the main road where dad lived.  It easily took about 10 minutes on a steep incline.

When I went there, the house that mom lived in was gone.  The only thing standing was the remnants of a structure, such as 3-4 blocks, a bit of cement for the kitchen area, but everything else was gone.

There was this big tree, around the base of the property, that had a special seed that I had never seen before.  

I grabbed a bag full of those seeds, called Mato Rojo or by the official name: Canavalia nitida and to this day, still have the bag.  In the attached spanish link, it says that this is one of the most utilized items in the making of jewelry by artisans in Puerto Rico.

My cousins tell me that if you rub the seed against the concrete, they spark, generate a flame and heat.  They said that this is something they did with it when they were younger. 

Whenever I look at those seeds, I am reminded of the struggles that my mom and her family had and how far along she came, and us after that.  I love the symbolism of it.   From the base at the bottom of this steep hill, there is a tree that produces the hardest and strongest seeds.  I saw that strength in my mom.

When they retired and moved down to South Carolina Mom and Dad bought the first and only home they would ever own.  Prior to moving to SC, mom working at K-Mart, would buy things for her casita.  The one that she was going to get, when she retired.

They spent several amazing years in "la casita".  Every birthday & holiday would be celebrated at Mom's house.  Yes, it was Dad's as well, but to Mom, it was her dream house.  The one she always desired and deserved.

During her battle with her late stages of Alzheimer's, she would cry and say she wanted to go home.  Not realizing of course that she was home.

Dad passed away first and Mom followed him a little over a year later.  The house was transferred to my 3 sisters and I.

Mom wanted a large family.  Raised as the only female by her father and her 3 brothers, losing her mom at the age of 6, she wanted nothing but a big family.  She adored her children, grandchildren and even got to meet most of her great grandchildren.  Though by this time, she was so far on the losing side of her Alzheimer's battle that she could not tell the difference between her own descendent, a complete stranger's child or even the plastic doll she would cuddle in her arms.

Dad would have wanted us to sell the house to anybody at whatever price we could get for it.  Mom though, would have clearly wanted for her Casita to stay "within the family" if possible.  For a family member to start building a future of memories based on the foundation she had laid, or better yet, the seeds that she had planted.  

Today, just 2 weeks shy of when Mom and Dad bought their Casita back on Valentine's Day in 2006, exactly 16 years ago, we sold La Casita to Kayla.  One of Mom's grandchildren.   

We got to close another chapter in this book about Mom and Dad.  The last chapter of our responsibility to Mom and Dad to take care of their possessions.  It took longer than all of us would have imagined and we could have chosen the easy path but sometimes the more difficult path is the right thing to do.  

To Kayla - Congratulations on purchasing your first home.  It is even more memorable as you are the 2nd owner on a home that was originally owned by your grandparents.  They left Puerto Rico before anyone of us was born, with the hopes of making a better future for all of us.   You and that house are both a direct result of that hope.