"A-Man" A Father Figure Like No Other

I have always felt blessed of the adult male role models in my life that helped me become who I am.  Of this amazing list, there is no one that has impacted me as much as my own father Rafa, than my Father-In-Law, Miguel Humberto.  He was more of a Father to me, than of a Father-In-Law.

Likewise, I always knew that I was more of a Son to him, than a Son-In-Law.  There were times that I genuinely could not tell the difference between my relationship with him, and the relationship he had with his own son whom he absolutely adored.

Rafa taught me honor, discipline, work ethics, responsibility, commitment, love for family, respect, strength, the game of baseball, admiration for my Puerto Rican heritage, to save for tomorrow and all of the basic tenants in my foundation.  Humberto added to this list by showing me how to live for today, how to enjoy life, not sweat the small stuff, to appreciate the love of a touch to the face, the real meaning of a hug and a kiss, to laugh, to appreciate great Spanish music and culture in general, and to spend it all today because tomorrow is not a given, but as long as we had our family we would figure it out and be OK.

I determined early on that I would combine both of their approaches in how I raised my own kids.  I truly hope that I captured the best of both of my fathers.

As a Grandfather, he was truly unique.  My niece Desiree called him "A-Man", short for Abuelo.  Indeed he was. A Man, a one of a kind, special person, loved by all of his grandchildren.  Always having a smile, appreciating the most precious gifts of his life, his amazing family.  When Dan and Desiree where only a year old, he dressed up as Santa Clause which scared the heck out of Desi.  He quickly ripped off his beard and hat to show her that it was just him. They were too young to know what Santa was but he was anxious to give it a try.

There has never been any doubt that he loved his son and daughter but he absolutely adored his grandchildren.  He made them feel like they were the most important thing in his life.  His usual greeting to them was "Hello My Friend".  I on the other hand got, "You B$#ch". Hahaha.

They made him do and say things and he went along with them for the ride.  The laughter we all had with his Abuelo-isms, absolutely priceless.  One time, Desi asked him what was his favorite cocktail. To which he replied "Shrimp".

The way he played with them and made them feel special, it was obvious, why they adored him.  He was the coolest grandfather I have known and was willing to do everything they asked.

He did everything with them and for them, as long as it was not having to change a diaper.  Which he eventually did when his last grandchild, Nick was born, but check out the video below to see how that turned out :)

Our bond was special.  For my 18th birthday, he went to the supermarket and bought 13 lobster tails so that we can celebrate my birthday!  That eventually became our thing.  Food.  We both had an appreciation for food and specifically enjoying each other's company over a meal and a drink.  The first time I ever went to a fancy restaurant was because he took me to one.  He eventually became known as "la muelita".

He would always want to take me to a new restaurant and to share with me something new he had and that "Rafy would like" as he said.  To enjoy things that only he and I would eat and appreciate because I was open to eating all of the "interesting" food that nobody else would enjoy with him.  That was especially the case when he and I would go to Bravo Supermarket during my visit to have chicharrón, cuchifrito or cuajito.  Much to the chagrin of his wife who would remind him that fried food was not good for him as we headed out the door.

During one of the final times that Luisa was visiting her parents in FL, while I stayed back home, she took him to Bravo's and called me to tell me about it.  I told her to tell him that I was upset that he went there without me.  His reaction was priceless but also heartbreaking.  His usual response would have been to tell me to cut it out (or in a more direct way - such as no joda, your loss and you should be here).  Midstream, he forgot what he was going to say.

My 2nd father left us to join his son, his parents, those who have gone before him and to be with God on March 11th, 2019.  Because I was still dealing with the impact of my dad having passed away less than a year before, and still focused on my mom who would pass away only two months to the day after him, I was not able to focus on the impact of my personal loss of Humberto.  I came across a video of him saying how much he missed me during one of his visits to SC while I was traveling.  I miss him even more today.

Today, on the anniversary of his passing, I honor him with this post.  I thank him for who he was, how he was with me and for all he did for me.  He helped me in ways that I cannot explain or are too personal to share.  A second father to me and one of the most important people in my life.  For had it not been for him, I would not be who I am.

I miss you "mi padre".

The Spice of Life

There is something about food that brings back memories flowing like a river.   Whether it is the thought of the Thanksgiving Turkeys, to the smell of fresh baked bread reminding me of the bakery down the street from where I grew up, it is said that a way to a man's heart is through his stomach.  And that is definitely the case for me.

I have always believed that passing down cooking recipes is essential to connect us to our past and keep the memories of the wonderful meals our families shared together alive.

Mom was a great cook and was always slaving over the stove, making sure the meal was ready for Dad when he came home from work.

My earliest memory of Dad cooking was when Mom gave birth to Annie and we remember dad cooking.  We were shocked at how well he cooked.

When he took over as the primary care giver in the house, I asked dad if we could get someone to come in to cut the grass, take over the chores and cook.  His response to me was "Rafy, please don't take that away from me.  It is the only thing I can do and gives me something to do."

Mom was deep into her disease and was too much for dad to handle so that is when we began our shifts.  Dad had gone through a rough patch with his health but was still plugging away.  Making his famous arroz con gandules, baked chicken, his delicious sancocho, and of course, his daily dose of tuna sandwiches for lunch. With diced tomato and olives.  He wouldn't strain the tuna so it came out a bit watery but it was still tasty.

On Friday night, when it was my turn to visit him, he would tell me about the moyejitas he would be frying on Saturday for Lunch, or the pulpo he purchased for a nice octopus salad.  He would tell me that they would be ready for lunch and for me to come any time.

Of course, by 10:30 or 11AM on Saturday, as I was still cutting the grass and doing my weekend chores, he would call me to tell me that I can come over when I wanted but that it was already done. But of course, no rush. :)

He had the same habit with his rice.  We would ask him to make his rice for Thanksgiving or Christmas so it was ready by lunch and by 8AM he was already starting to cook it.  It would be done by 10 and then kept warm on the stove.  Sometimes, it was done a bit too early so it would start to dry out but it was still the best rice and beans we have ever tasted.

He showed his love through his cooking and there was no doubt he loved to cook and loved us.

He showed us some great recipes and how to cook some amazing things but the one menu item that took a whole team effort was making Puerto Rican Pasteles.  Initially, when they did it with us, mom was still very alert and the disease was not getting in her way of her doing her part.

When it was pasteles time, dad would be excited about going to the store to buy all of the vianda and the fresh pork shoulder.   We then all got together to grind everything up and assemble the pasteles.  It was essentially an all day thing, taking many hours to prepare and produce them.  In the end, we would do between 150-200 of them to share between the 5 homes.

On February of this year, almost two years from losing dad and 9 months from losing mom, my sisters and I got together to continue the tradition that our parents taught us.  We made a whole day of it, with Evelyn even preparing bacalaitos for us to enjoy before we got into it.

When the time came, we took out the machine that dad and mom had brought down from NJ to make the masa from the vianda.

This machine is a grinder and mixer that creates the best masa easily and quickly.

We then got to work on the assembly line. While we did this, we reminded ourselves of what we were doing right but also what we were doing wrong and how dad would be reminding us, in real time, what we were doing wrong.  We removed much of the pork fat from the meat and could hear dad tell us in his voice "eso es bueno y se come",  i.e., that's the good stuff.

We even had a glass of coquito to celebrate and toast to our parents for the blessed memory we had of them doing this.

By the time we were done, we had made about 120 pasteles to split between the four of us and we all believe that we knocked it out of the park.

In the end we do feel that mom and dad would have been proud of us, and are probably glowing in Heaven with the fact that we are continuing to do these things, honoring their memories, spending time together and partaking in continuing our culture.

We felt their presence in the stories and memories that came alive in the process of making them and in our minds, imagined them hovering over us and looking like this.

Family meals are opportunities to keep memories alive.  To continue the traditions that have been passed down to us.  To use food to awaken the senses of smell and taste so that it can remind us of the great times we enjoyed with the ones we loved and while they may not be with us in person, are with us in spirit.

Today, February 23, 2020, would have been dad's 84th birthday and is the 2nd birthday that we do not have him with us.  In his honor, we continue the traditions and enjoy the meals he created with the Spice of Life.  

Rie y Llora - Que a cada cual le llega su hora

I'm sensitive to starting every post reliving the pain of what our entire family has gone through over the past couple of years.  However, in the past 3 months, our family has experienced a transformation of nothing but amazing moments that continue to bring us together and be giddy about celebrating life and our beautifully expanding family.  Yes we have those moments where the holidays remind us of what we have lost.

But those moments now pale in comparison to the excitement of having celebrated two amazing weddings within this short time frame.  In October 2019, it was Dan and Jill.  Luisa and I had a natural high leading up to the wedding and then for about a month afterwards.  Now it was Desiree' and Spencer's turn to tie the knot and give us hope for a better future.

The day was as beautiful as the bride. The location picturesque. The venue, prepared with an attention to detail that would not only excite us about what we would all experience but sweetly reminding us of those who would not be joining us physically but without a doubt, in spirit.

From the memory room, with Abuelo's handcrafted furniture to the two dominoes tables on the porch, just begging to hear Miguel yell "La Gorda" and proclaim "My House, My Rules".  Their presence was felt everywhere.  Several of us wore his suits, ties, shirts, and even the bridesmaid's flowers were wrapped with Miguel's ties.

As the guests began to stroll in and sip from the champagne glass, we were all admiring the location and the shear beauty of the place.  All of us, very consciously aware this day would be full of joy while trying to keep our emotions in check so we can focus on the bride and her husband to be.

As the ceremony began, our anticipation and excitement grew upon seeing Desiree' walk down the paved path in Denise's arms.  The friends and family, giving them both support and admiring the strength of those beautiful ladies, as the waves began to crash loudly against the rocks nearby.  Then as Reverend Jorge started to speak his words, the ocean calmed to the point you could hear a pin drop.  

The wedding vows romantic and full of emotions like the crowd sitting in the chairs, tears flowing with all of the love for this family.

The celebration capped the night with great speeches, incredible food, and non-stop dancing throughout the entire time.  

There was one moment, where it all came full circle.  A song, a tribute to Miguel, where everybody was asked to dance with the newlyweds and the family.  Everybody joined the dance floor which at first did not appear to be big enough, but obviously was.

The tribute song was "Rie y Llora" (Laugh and Cry) by Celia Cruz. On my drive back from FL, I listened to the song several times, wanting to dissect the words and appreciate its significance.

...

Lo que es bueno hoy

Quizás no lo sea mañana

He ahí el valor del momento

He ahí el presente perfecto

...

No es que recuerde, sino que no olvido

Eso es el perdón, recordar sin dolor

Agárrate fuerte y ya no te sueltes

Ríe, llora

Que a cada cual le llega su hora (le llega, le llega)

Ríe, llora

Vive tu vida y gózala toda (vive tu vida y gózala toda)

Here is the song with lyrics

Essentially, tomorrow is not guaranteed. Therefore live your life in the moment.  The perfect moment at this current time.  It's not that you have to remember the pains of the past, but that you cannot forget the good moments of today.  Laugh, Cry, as our time will come for all of us.  So live your life and enjoy everything.

This was exactly what Miguel wanted us to do and how he lived his life.  Enjoying the moment, thanking God for all of our blessings, namely our family.  

As the newlyweds make their way to their honeymoon, and to begin their future together, the pictures and comments from all of the people that witnessed this magical event are flowing on everybody's respective Facebook pages.  The smiles and comments say it all.  

Life is good.  Especially with a family and friends like we have.

Congratulations Desi and Spencer.  May God Bless your marriage and may you always live your life, in the moment.

The Tie That Binds

The tie that binds (or the ties that bind) is the shared belief or other factor that links people together.

There are certain events that forces a change in the routine.  The birth of a child, moving to a new place or the loss of a loved one, just to name a few.

Trying to get back on the saddle is hard. Very hard.  The feelings and desires of having things be just like they used to be.  The pattern of doing things you have done year after year and then suddenly... they come to a screeching halt.

For us, every year, it was the same routine. Celebrate Christmas in SC, and New Years in FL.

The New Years celebration routine would usually start two days after Christmas and would end on the 2nd of January. Roughly 14 hour trips each way to begin the nonstop, running around of preparation for the big event. 

Un-boxing the decorations from the garage, numerous runs to the supermarkets, (yes that is plural because no matter how many times we did this, we always forgot something and it is impossible to get everything in one place), ordering and then picking up the pig on the 30th, preparing it so that it can seasoned overnight and be ready for the big day on the 31st. 

Spend the day on the 30th cleaning the house and setting up all of the decorations to make sure that the place looked as magical as the views of the ball dropping on the TV of Sydney, then London, then New York.

Waking up early on the 31st to start the charcoal, clean the Caja China, set up the dominoes table so that we can drink beer or Cuba Libres (yes also plural) all while keeping an eye on the pig while we roast it.

Battling the winds and each other as we argued to make sure we, ok Miguel, would not burn the pig.  Of course, reminding each other, how we did it in years' past and that we should not fix what was obviously not broken and had been perfected over time.

Then while everyone was getting ready for the main dinner on New Years Eve, carving up the Lechón, and then scrambling to take showers so we don't smell or look like the pig we just roasted.

Celebrating family, our shared love for one another and the blessings upon us as we welcomed the new year, unsure of what it would bring, but sure that we would be here the following year doing exactly the same thing.

Looking at the pictures and videos of prior years only made us anxious to get the routine started.

On January 2018, Miguel, my truly one of a kind brother-in-law, shared a dream he previously had with Denise.  In his dream, he was attending funeral after funeral and said that all he saw were the losses that we as a family would have in 2018.  Not realizing of course, that he would be the first to leave us on March 21st a couple of months later, followed by my father, Rafa, just 10 days after that on April 2nd.  Then by Tia Margot (my side) and Tia Onelia (Luisa's side), along with both my father-in-law, Miguel Humberto on March 11th of 2019, 10 days shy of when his son Miguel had predeceased him and then most recently concluding with my mom Angela, on May 11th.

With the incredible losses of so many loved ones over these past 2 years, along with other circumstances, the usual New Year's Eve celebration changed drastically this year.  The tone was also completely different. 

This year, our boys and other loved ones could not make the trip. 

We did not roast a full pig, have a party or even dust off the dominoes.  We did have dinner together, with a pernil and then sat around the TV and watched old videos of our prior celebrations. 

We did our best to come together and continue moving forward.  We even put on music as we danced with the kids to honor the memories of the ones we love by keeping the traditions alive.



One of the songs played was Marc Anthony's Vivir Mi Vida which translated is Live My Life.

In the verse, he says:

We must continue.  We need to go on and live our life to the fullest.  We must continue to follow the traditions we set forth many years ago as can be seen in this photo.

Yes, it will be different and will never truly be the same as it used to be, no matter how much we wish for it to be. In the end, it was not about the music or the pig, or the new years hats and celebrations that we did this.

It was about our amazing family.  It was about being together to welcome the New Year.  To be there for one another as our life evolves with new beginnings, as well as the challenges that may come down our way.  To live our life or Vivir Mi Vida.

This year, 2020, we will celebrate another one of our children get married, we will welcome a new baby, we will travel to new places and create new memories.  But even though it is still far out, we can be sure of one thing.  We will get together at the end of the year, like we have always done to welcome the New Year.

Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad

Today, December 15th is my parents wedding anniversary.  They would have celebrated their 57th anniversary.  Mom was 20 years old when she got married to dad, who was 26 at the time.  Both, having lived difficult lives up until they were married, promised each other in their vows that they would be together from that point forward.

Coming from humble, truth be told, very poor beginnings and moving to a new land to pursue a better life, Mom and Dad did everything they could to live the life they could. To work hard and make sure they could provide for their family.  To be an example of husband and wife that would enable us to learn the true meaning of love.

Growing up, mom and dad never really made a big deal of their anniversary such as go out to dinner like most couples do, except for Dad's last minute "splurge" on Chinese food, but he would bring her flowers on his way back from work, which mom loved and appreciated.  Carnations were her favorite and he made sure the bouquet had some.  That was the extent of their celebration.  That said, there was no doubt in our minds that they loved and were committed to each other.

Both found their soul partner in each other.  Someone that would be there in good times and in bad.  They took satisfaction, that their marriage meant so much to us.  That we understood the simplicity of their marriage but the genuine strength and love they had for each other.  Their love was a testament of their faith in God and appreciation for the life they had and all of the blessings that they were given.  Primarily, their family.  Their 4 children and spouses, 11 grandchildren some of which having spouses of their own, and their 4 great grandchildren.  Their life was complete in their eyes, and in ours.

Growing up, Mom was the caregiver and Dad was the provider.  As Mom got progressively worse with her disease, their roles reversed.  Dad's only worry was to make sure that Mom was taken care of.  That she was comfortable, fed, bathed, properly taken care of, especially with how we would tuck her in her bed, but their faith never wandered.



Even when we knew that it was beyond the point that mom should be going to Church, dad continued to insist that we do so and mom was eager to go there until the job of getting her ready, the stress of the drive and her inability to walk or sit in the pews were too much for her.


Their love was visible for all to see, in how they looked at and were with each other.  There was no doubt in anybody's mind.

Dad predeceased mom by 13 months and for their last few years together, Mom did not know who he was, nor was she able to really appreciate the fact that it was their anniversary and that he was her soulmate.  But while they were both around, and able to, they fulfilled their commitment to love and to hold, in sickness and in health, til' death do they part.

This anniversary, their first since Mom joined Dad, we are saddened by the lack of their presence, but with tears flowing of joy that the two of them are back together again.

We love you.

Sacrifices

When we were growing up, Dad had a little brown box bank full of coins and bills.  The coins and bills were actually very old coins that included a half dime, a silver dollar, Buffalo nickels, indian head coins, $5 dollar bills with a silver certificate or red numbers and other "prized possessions". According to Quora, the 1963 $5 bill with red numbers is now worth about $25 with the silver one worth much more than that.

Every once in a while, we would either ask him to open it up or he would open it up when he wanted to look at them and admire his cool collection.  When he came across a new coin that would be added to his collection, he would ask for the box and one of us would run to his bedroom and grab the box from his top drawer where he kept it.

Even as he was adding the new coin to the box, he would take it as an opportunity to check out his precious savings. 

Years later, after dad retired and moved down, we came across the box in the house.  We also came to find out that back in late '79, dad had sold off his collection so he can pay for a trip for us to go to Puerto Rico.  We usually took a trip to PR every 5-7 years but as our family got bigger, it became more expensive for us to go there.  It was roughly 2 years after my youngest sister Annie was born and Dad felt it was time to go back, so everybody could see the "baby".  We went back during Christmas, and it was the only Christmas I recall us spending in Puerto Rico.

We were devastated but realized that Dad had made a sacrifice of his precious collection of coins to pay for that trip.  In the end, money was money but this was not the kind of money that comes around again unless you want to purchase it from a collector in the first place.  It must have weighed heavily in his mind to do so but the desire to go to PR to visit the family was enough for him to sell his collection.  He was not saving it for a rainy day nor was he doing so just to pay for a vacation.

As I have previously written, Dad passed away last year in early 2018 and mom earlier this year.  I have finally started to go through all of the massive collection of paperwork I brought over from their house so I can keep what I need, and shred the things I don't, such as old medical bills.

As I emptied one of the boxes and folders, a little coin purse fell out containing the last bit of his collection.   It brought me back to my youth and cracking open "the safe" with him and how he loved to look at those coins.  I did not know he kept this small bunch.

This Thanksgiving was the first one without both of my parents and all I kept thinking about were the sacrifices they had made for us.  Not just about taking us to Puerto Rico to visit family, but everything they did to make sure we understood and appreciated everything they did for us.  Leaving Puerto Rico when Mom was pregnant with me, to start a new life in a strange land, not knowing the culture or anybody.  Makes us appreciate what we have, but also truly understand the desire of others to want to live the American dream.  All while still remembering where we came from.

A Wave of Emotions Knocking You Down

After three weeks of essentially being on the road, I came home to try to fall back into my normal routine.  Cut the grass, run some errands and just try to unwind from what was a very intense several weeks of trade shows, meetings, airports, rental cars and living out of a suit case.

During this time, I also starting thinking about my parents and how much I miss them.  My senses were further heightened as I went through some of the paperwork that has been stacking up over this time.  Including medical and bank statements with mom and dad's name on them.

Dad passed away over a year and 7 months ago and today marks 6 months since mom left to join him. We are still getting statements as the insurance company continues to tell us of things that have been resolved.

I made things worse on myself as I started watching some videos and looking at old pictures that were also in piles on my home desk, that were part of my "todo list".  To put them away in a drawer or album.

Hearing their voices in the videos, made me both smile and cry.  The evening wine only helped let my guard down as the wave of emotions that overcame me felt like I was about to drown. 

I am not depressed, or I genuinely don't think I am, but every now and then, the continuous thought of my parents not being around are like waves that crash at me trying to knock me down.  I went to bed, trying not to stress myself out and spent the night dreaming about them, having conversations with them and hearing their voices in my dreams.

Yesterday, I finally got the nerve to request that dad's Facebook profile be memorialized.  Partially due to the concern of it somehow getting compromised and then having to deal with that and the fact that it was something that I needed to do.  Again, back to that "todo list".

The email I got from Facebook after I did it was actually very warm and touching.  Clearly, thought went into how they need to help family members handle this task.

In my search for pictures and special quotes for which to help me convey what I am feeling, I came across a blog written by Andrea Barberio who used the same analogy of the emotion of grief coming in waves and being knocked down by one of the waves.

This weekend, one of the pictures I came across was of mom, who could not swim, walking back from the beach, while I was in the ocean with Dan when he was roughly 2 years old.  There were no waves to knock her down or pull me under.  The water was warm and inviting.  The memories of Mom walking back, calmly gave me peace and comfort that I will be OK with the waves that come every now and then. 

Another picture I came across was of mom and dad, in the late 60's, with mom pregnant with one of my sisters.  

It reminded me that Mom and Dad are back together again and have been so for exactly 6 months now. 

It helped me realize that it's OK to have the waves of emotions and tears come crashing.  The wave will pass and I will once again be at peace, enjoying the tranquility in the ocean of memories of my time with them.

I miss you Mom and Dad.