The Ultimate Return on Your Investment

I could also call this post as “you get what you put into it” or “the more you put in, the more you get back” but it means the same. Another way of referring to it could also be “It’s Not about You". What I am referring to is that the commitment and support that you put into your kids throughout their childhood will pay dividends at a certain point. When you first have a child, you don’t think about those things. As the years go on, you can get distracted with the day to day aspects of life and not really think about this “investment” you are making in their lives.

Many years ago, when my oldest son Dan, was 6 years old, we were into things like baseball, soccer and other activities. I say we, because I was the one that wanted him to do those things. After all, I did them when I was growing up as well and that is all I knew. Luisa also wanted him to do those so we thought it was the right thing to do. In the end, he never really wanted to do those things and they weren’t “his things”.

One day, during school, Dan was introduced to scouting during a recruitment campaign at the school. I knew about scouting when I was growing up but it was not as popular in the part of NJ where I grew up as it was in the area we live in here in SC. I had a friend that was boy scout, but he is the only one that I remember of all of the kids I knew that had done it. I did not know anything about it, but that did not stop me from saying to Dan, when he asked me to that I would definitely go with him to the initial meeting. They paint a great picture during those recruitment days. Lots of fun, camping, hiking, swimming, bows and arrows, friendships…

I remember that first campout and being so unprepared for it. Sure, I purchased a tent (of which I knew nothing about), sleeping bags, mess kit (eating utensils, pots, plates for you untrained city folks) and tons of food. The first trip was actually to camp at the school grounds. About 2 miles from my house. Not really what I call adventure in the woods but I was a nervous wreck. Especially with the forecast of rain all weekend. I was scared we would not survive. OK. Very irrational thought considering, 1) Millions of people go camping and have survived. 2) We had a tent/raingear/trained adults, and last but not least, 3) I was only 2 Miles from my house! That night, it rained like crazy, and I did not sleep at all. I panicked with all of the water coming into my tent and wondered how the heck to people do this if water gets in? Then I realized the next time I went, that it was the dew inside the tent and the fact that things touch the tent and get wet. But if you don’t put anything near the inside lining of the tent, it actually stays dry inside!

I wasn’t the only one as there was another newbie that camping and his son left the zipper open. When they woke up the next day, they were floating on their pads. Ah the memories.

And that is the point. The memories you create are amazing during this adventure. The times you spend, are times that are irreplaceable. Unlike other sports that your kids participate in, you can be a coach for them but you don’t participate in it like you do in Scouting. In Scouting every hike is something your son does, alongside with you. Every memory you create, you create together. The time away from the TV, computers, iphones, xboxes, and other gadgets is time that you have to help mold and develop your son in the young man that you want them to be. It is an investment in the future, their future, but beyond that, it is a chance to really share things that you would not do in any other setting.

My kids love milk and cookies. OK, I admit it, so do I. But the best milk and cookies are the ones that I remember. That stick out, that I can recall like if it was yesterday. I was hiking with Dan once, and we went by a water fall. I planned on a surprise lunch that day. We filtered water from the water fall, and then I mixed it with powdered milk to make ice cold, and I mean cold, milk. Then I took out a couple of packages of chocolate chip cookies and we would dunk them into the milk while sitting on a big rock in the middle of the stream. After finishing a 5-7 mile hike. With the water smashing against the rock and drops hitting our backs. I turned around to Dan and said, “Aren’t these the best milk and cookies you have ever had?” I expected his response to be, absolutely. But instead it was, “I like mom’s milk and cookies better.” Now I ask, name a time you had milk and cookies, and can remember the other details like the rocks, the waterfall drops, the aches and pains from the hike…etc.

I have just as amazing experiences with Nick. Nick was very anxious to follow his brother’s footsteps and told me all along that he was going to be an Eagle, just like his brother. There was no question about that in his mind.

While Dan did not really like hiking, and always complained before the hike about having to go, and then of course, after the hikes would say they were “awesome”, Nick never once complained. He amazed me in his ability to hike miles and never once show any sign of being weary. He was like the Energizer bunny and just kept going and going…. He would always get into character, especially with the skits at nigh during the campfires. He would have a ton of fun on those trips, and get about as filthy as you can imagine.

We went mountain biking one time and I nearly wiped out but Nick was right there with me and able to see my youth come back on that bike when I flipped over the bike after hitting a stump and landed on my feet as I flew over the handle bars! It was AMAZING. Our best trip between Nick and I would have to be the time we went sailing around the Florida Keys, on a boat with a small group as part of the Sea Base adventure. It was fantastic time where not only did I conquer my fears of swimming in the deep ocean, and snorkeling around the fish but I did it with my son, Nick.

These are just a sample of the memories that I have shared with my boys and the opportunities I had to have those famous father and son talks. The opportunities to have focused, quality times, and invest in the future. The return on that investment pays dividends.

Here is a video of Dan’s scouting history and other memories:

Here is a video of Nick’s scouting history:

Here are both of my boy’s speeches during Nick’s Eagle ceremony in August of 2013.

I finish up this post with some final comments which is why I had to write this blog entry now, even though some of the things I recalled happened many years ago.

Recently, on October 10th of 2013, our troop lost one of our scouts, Brent. I remember Brent when he crossed over and all of the trips we went on with my boys as well. He was that unbridled youth that was living the dream. He always had a smile on his face, had more energy than you can imagine but best of all, was a dear friend and a genuinely great person. He was 20 years old and passed away at the beginning of his life, but doing what he wanted and touching lives. While me and my family are definitely saddened by the loss, I am grateful to have known him, spent the time mentoring him and getting to know him. Take care Brent. I am sure we will see you again some day on the ultimate hike to the heavens.

That is what scouting is about. Touching lives, making friends and memories, and investing in the future of these kids. It’s not about us, but about giving back and giving them hope of the future by letting them learn from your past.

After all I truly believe that this is the Ultimate Return on My Investment.

The Alternative is to Cry…

People not dealing with Alzheimer’s patients may actually misunderstand what I am saying here.  My intent is not to offend but to put in perspective the quality of life that we are trying to have with my mom who is suffering from this horrible disease.  We try to make light of this already difficult situation and keep things in perspective.  We have her here with us and are able to share quality moments with her.

Mom’s disease is getting worse and is at the point where she does not recognize my son, my nephew and at times, even confuses my sisters with my wife or thinks that I actually live with them.  She cannot remember where I live, and when she comes to visit my house with my dad, she is genuinely surprised at my house.  So sad considering that she actually lived there for a bit. 

In any event, recently, my mom spent the Saturday stressing out about what she was going to wear for church the next day.  She walked into the closet and took our her clothes, to try them.  She would put them on the bed and one of us would go back and put them back in the closet.  She did this several times throughout the day, and did it every time one of my sisters or I would show up.  She would say “I have to take out what I am going to wear for Church tomorrow”.  She probably did this at least 6-8 times throughout that day and did this so much that my dad was pretty fed up about how many times he went to the closet with her to pick out her clothes.

The next day, I was sitting in the church parking lot, as I usually do, waiting for them to arrive.  I can see them turn the corner into the parking lot and I stepped out of my car to open her car door.  When I saw her, she had this very frustrating look on her face.  I asked her what was wrong, and she replied, “Your father forced me to come to church!”.

I usually go to my parents anywhere from 3-4 times a week, if not more.  During one of my visits, I walked in as I usually do and noticed that she was in a very bad mood.  Dad is sitting in his recliner watching a baseball game like he normally does, and mom was at the end of the couch just looking straight out and not at my dad.  Usually, when I show up, both of my parents stand up to give me a hug and a kiss.  This time Dad stood up as usual but mom slowly got up and really did not look at me but kissed me.  I noticed something was wrong and asked her.  We both sat down and she is sitting to the right of me, and my Dad is to the left.  She looked past my body at Dad and complained how mean he was with her. 

I tried to make light of it and said “Oh oh, are you two fighting?  Let me know so I can leave cause I am not getting in the middle of this.” Of course I was kidding and smiled when I said it but she did not laugh.  I continued to press to see what was wrong and Dad jumped in and said that he had washed and dried her pants that we bought her recently (another story for another day) and they were putting them back in her closet when she took them and asked Dad if they were his. Dad replied in his usual sarcastic self, “Angela, you know they won’t fit me because they are too small!”. But she did not like the way he responded. Apparently she then proceeded to try to put them in his closet.  This does not sound like much but the pants routine has came up several times.

At this point, she blurted “You don’t have to be so mean to me!”.   Honestly, I have not seen mom this angry in years. She got up to throw something away and took a mean look at dad sitting in his chair, and then at me, and then walked away.  I got up and went to the kitchen and then she continued to complain.  She was stuck in a rut and would not get out of this mode no matter what I did or said, so I decided to get her out of the house.  We went to the bedroom so I can put on some socks on her and her shoes and she sat on the bed and started crying.  She said to me, “You know Ralphie, if he wants those pants, he can have them.  I have four and that is ok”.  I told her that Dad does not need those pants and that we bought them for her. She obviously was stuck and could not think of anything else.

As we started to leave the house, she walked up to dad, sitting in his chair, and asked for permission to go with me (I don’t know why she feels she needs to do this but she clearly is becoming much more dependent on him as the disease progresses.  Almost like if she is his child).   At this point, dad, again being who he is says:  “You are going to leave me?” and starts to laugh.  She starts crying again, says I am sorry as she touches his face feeling guilt.  At this point, I turn to Dad and say “Seriously Dad?  Do you have to say that?”.

I grabbed mom by the arm, and walked her out to my car to distract her by taking her to my house and then my sister’s.  When she came back that evening, everything was well and all was forgotten.  Both figuratively and literally.

I did have a separate conversation with him and remind him that she needs to be treated like a delicate flower with petals that could fall if manhandled.  He changed his behavior and the next day went back to the closet every time she wanted to, to see the pants that she has and make sure they were all there. He even caught her putting them on, but in the closet it self where there is no room to change at all.  He helped her and told me he did this at least half a dozen times that day.

There is no doubt that this is painful for dad having to be the primary caregiver to mom.  I understand this and we need to do more to help him deal with this, as well as give them some space so they can heal and reduce the tension. 

My son Nick did a video for a senior project on the effect that Alzheimer’s has on everybody else. It is painful to watch but we have to focus on the bigger picture.  She is with us still and we have to be grateful for that.  Yes, we laugh at some of these moments because the alternative is to cry.

Happy Father’s Day!

Today is Father’s day, June 19, 2011. I am sure that this same scene is actually being played out throughout the country. It seems like every year, there is this concerted effort to make sure that Dad is pleased and that the focus is on Dad. I love this. It is great to feel appreciated for all of the hard work that goes into being the “the bad guy” at home. The person that not only defines the rules of the house, but the one who is also responsible for making sure that they are followed. Please don’t misunderstand my comments. In our house, my wife and I, see eye to eye on everything, including how to raise the kids. I clearly did not define all of the rules.

It’s kind of like the memories I had of when I was growing up. I recall my mom saying things like “I’m going to tell your father!” every time we did something that she did not approve of. The same thing sort of happens here at my house. My wife can definitely keep things in line, after all, I follow her rules all of the time as well. But throughout the year, when the requests for certain things go beyond the comfort level, Dad is the one that has to decide that they cannot get the thing they want. That they should not be allowed to go out or stay up past a certain time. That it is “up to your father” to determine if he is going to be your cool friend or the guy that makes sure you have no fun.

So this year, just like every year on Father’s day, my wife makes it an effort to make sure that my boys show their appreciation by getting up early to make me breakfast. They got up at 6AM to start preparing eggs, bacon, coffee, pouring the orange juice, setting the table, wrapping the gift and writing the cards. Normally on a Sunday morning, I get up about 7AM, to get Nick up so that he can get ready to go to church. He plays his guitar in the choir and has to be there around 8-8:15AM. So I get up, fight with him to make sure he gets up, and we are out of the door as quickly as possible.

This morning Luisa woke up the kids and left me sleeping in bed. After all, it’s Father’s day. Let him sleep!

At 6:45, Dan puts his hand on my shoulder to wake me up for breakfast. It immediately reminded me of when he used to come into my bedroom at the middle of the night, cause he had to go to the bathroom and somehow could not see it, as he passed by it, on the way to my room. As I come down the stairs, I get the strong whiff of the bacon, which as it turns out, was prepared by my wife.

She blurts out, “Happy Father’s day honey!”, “We let you sleep!”. To which my response was, “hon, I normally get up at 7AM on Sundays.” “Oh.” she responded.

I sat down, had my breakfast with everybody after Dan said Grace, and then opened my cards and gift. It was great and very much appreciated and very delicious.

They scramble to get ready for church, with one last commandment from Luisa, “Nick go get the newspaper for Dad”. Something I normally do myself on a regular Sunday morning.

We take off to go to church and when we come back, the boys have had this plan, all along, to either take me fishing or to go for a walk on this new trail down in Greenville.

When we get back, Dan asks, “OK Dad, what do you want to do?”. Honestly, both of those sounded great, but so did just staying home, to relax. I’ve had some long weeks at work and that sounds great as well. But, it’s father’s day. We need to do what Dad likes to do, and both of those things are his favorite things to do.

So we head downtown, about 11:30am, and take a hike that is about 2 miles long each way. It’s hot, but flat and a really nice walk. However, I am beat.

This is what I looked like at the end of my hike.

They of course, looked nothing like that.

Here is the Map of where we went. Back and forth, by the way.

View Fathers Day Hike Swamp Rabbit Trail in a larger map 

On our way back to the car, the boys start tell me that they are hungry. Immediately I ask, “Hungry? What do you want to do, go out for lunch? What about mom?” To which I get, “Dad, It’s father’s day. We are your sons and Mom is not.” “We are the ones that should go out with you.” So much for them preparing lunch for me on Father’s Day…

So we head out to get some sushi and rice bowls. But I don’t feel good about going out with Luisa, so we decided on some smoothies.

We get home, and I am just exhausted. Wanting to just go to sleep. As I write this, everybody else is sleeping taking a nap, because of all of the effort put into “Father’s Day”.

Funny thing, is that for Mother’s day, when I ask Luisa what she wants, it is the same thing. Give me some time alone. I don’t want to see anybody or do anything. I need “a break”. Understandable considering that she is with them all of the time. BTW, did I mention I am exhausted?

All kidding aside, being a father is not something that should require thanks. It is an honor, and something that you should do as a selfless act, to help children grow up understanding the values you can instill in them. Such as being a dedicated husband, a great friend, a dedicated worker, an honest person with strong character, will and determination to do what is right in this world. Someone you can have fun with, create special memories and learn from. Someone your children can turn to in times of despair and need. Someone who inspires the best in you, to make them proud. Someone who is there for more than just providing shelter and food. I am a Father, for those reasons and many more. And for that, I am grateful, thankful and blessed to be a father.

Happy Father’s Day to all of the fathers who have truly figured out the reasons for this day.

All you need is a chair for an office

This post is for everybody who says traveling is fun and they wished they could travel. I’ve been on the road for 3 weeks now, after my company announced a new product. For two back to back weeks, I was in FL attending a tradeshow and a sales conference. While I was there, I received a call from someone at the company we are working with, asking if I would be interested in presenting our new solution to the senior execs and their marketing organization.

I jumped at this opportunity to get more exposure for this new solution. So I fly up to NJ without really knowing what to expect. Once I landed I was immediately asked to participate on a conference call. That lasted for 1.5 hours. Luckily I was able to check into my hotel as soon as I got here pretty early and get all set up.

I rush over to the other hotel where the conference was going to be held and meet up with the person that asked me to come. I see 8 other “partners” of this company setting up their booths with big time canvas backdrops and the like. I look and have a monitor for me to plug in my laptop and then say to myself, “oh boy. We need something quick". So I left about an hour later after picking my spot and head over to Kinkos to get some banners and flyers printed.

After about 2 hours, now about 5:30pm, I pick up my “collateral” and head over to a pizza joint to get some slices of NJ pizza.

I go back to my hotel room and work for the next 4.5 hours, finally crashing about 11:30pm.

I wake up the next morning about 7AM and start getting emails, getting ready for breakfast and then head out about 10AM for the event. I have to set up all of this “stuff” and have 30 minutes to do so. " (Note: it was two display stands with my brochures, a 6”h x 24”w banner that I place under the TV, and my devices. 10 minutes flat A Guinness world record.

After about 2 hours of non-stop talking with what felt were a ton of people, I tear down my booth. Again, another speed record. 5 minutes flat. Quick – Call Guinness I tell you!

Right about that time, I get a call from US Airways that my connecting flight was cancelled due to a storm in the area, and that my 1st flight was delayed by an hour. My original flight was at 5:30 and it was pushed to 6:30. I take my time, make a few phone calls and then head to the airport with plenty of time to spare. I also go and stop for gas on the rental since I have soooo much time.

I check in, go through security, and board my plane. We wait about 30 minutes and the pilots start to buzz the flight attendants to inform them of something. I say to myself “uh oh. this can’t be good.”

Sur enough it was not. The flight was cancelled and we are taken off of the plane. They tell us that US Airways has 2, I repeat, 2 agents rebooking flights for people. I get on the phone right way, “cause I am a world traveller you know”, and call US Airways. They tell me that the next available flight was a 5:00AM the next morning.

At this point I pull my computer and rent another car. It is 7:30pm and I have a 5AM flight. I have no intention of checking into a hotel and oversleeping or sleeping at the airport. So I rent a car and go visit some family about 45 minutes away. It’s raining cats and dogs. I knew something was not going to be good when they announced on the TV this morning that the governor had already declared it a state of emergency. Wow.

I go and have a great visit with my family, reminiscing of the old times, and finding out more information on my grandparents and other relatives. I head back around 11:30 and get to the airport at exactly 12:30am. I look for a great place to plug in and charge my PC, my router, and my phone.

So here I am. It is 1:30AM and I am “working” in my new found office at the airport. You see, I am a world traveller and all I need is a chair for an office

What it means to be a Father…

This is actually a topic that I’ve wanted to write about for many years.  Of all of the things that I have accomplished in my life, being a father is something I have really strived to do my best at.  I can tell you that it was not something that came naturally to me as it was not really handed down to me by my own father.  Don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad.  But he raised us with the mindset that as long as we had food on the table, which we did, and clothes to wear, which we did, and a warm bed to sleep in, which we did, he felt he did his duty as a father.  I do not fault him for this approach to fatherhood as he actually did better than his own father did for him.

His father pulled him out of school when he was in 3rd grade so that he can take care of the animals and bring him his lunch while he was working in the fields.  My dad really never recovered from this and many times, expressed his frustration with me about how he was ripped off and never given the chance to have a better life.

When I would come home with my report card showing A’s and B’s, and being in the honor roll, his response was “that’s good.  You can do better you know”.  The day before I got married, he pulled me aside for a father-son moment and said “you know about, you know, right?”  Then proceeded to give me a beer to celebrate me getting married.  I don’t fault him for being the way he is since it is very well known that Hispanic men are supposed to be very machismo and do not show their feelings.  It is definitely the way he was raised.

Even though we lived in very modest, ok, a very humble situation, I did learn to value what I did have and the effort he did for us.  I did get great toys for Christmas even though things were very tight at home.

I strongly believe that you shouldn’t dwell on the past and that you have to look at the future and what you can do to change it.  Throughout my life, I promised myself that I would do better and be different.

I did get very important values from my dad.  How serious I am about my work, and ensuring that I “provide for my family”.  My dedication to church.  I don’t feel the same if I miss going to Sunday Mass.  My dedication to my wife.  Not that I ever saw him express his love to my mom the way I do to my wife.  But that he has always been faithful to her and now, as she is going through her Alzheimer's disease, he is there making sure that she eats, she walks every day, and takes her medicine on time. 

But to me, being a father was always more than just being there.  It was about developing a relationship with your children that enables them to trust you emphatically with everything.  You can earn their respect but at the same time, be their best friend.  The person that they can look up to to aspire to, but also be in awe of, because “you know everything :)” as I was once told.

During my childhood, I had the opportunity to get to know many great father figures.  These men, have touched my life in ways that cannot be understated and clearly made up for the missing items that I so desired in my own life.   I dedicate this blog update to all of the father figures that I have had.  The ones that taught me how to be the father and man that I am today.

My uncle Tito, who took me fishing to a lake on a regular basis.  This person was very wound up at all times.  Smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee but can slow down to catch the largest trout I have ever seen.  I remember my first fishing trip where I did not even have a fishing pole and he made one from a tree branch with some fishing line and a hook.  I recall the excitement, like it was yesterday, coming home with 14 Lafayette (sunnies) and a cat fish, that I caught sitting under the bridge in Lincroft.  At the fresh water reservoir where we were really not supposed to be fishing at the time.  I remember listening to Carly Simon on the way to the bridge.  That is where I not only learned how to fish but developed a passion for fishing.

My uncle Juan, who would take me to Bass River every summer so that I swim.  Juan had 7 kids, but still managed to find room for me in his station wagon.  I recall that he always came across as a gentle and kind person and was always smiling. Little did he know, that I actually almost drowned in one of those trips to the lake.  A bunch of boys, his son’s included, through me into the lake at the deep end, without me knowing how to swim.  It was near a damn and the water was running over the damn.  I felt like I swallowed a gallon of water and through out the entire time, all I heard was, if you want to learn how to swim, that is how you do that.  Talk about sinking or swimming.  Obviously, I did not sink, but I can tell you that I wouldn’t say that I learned how to swim that day either.  Eventually, I would conquer my fear, by going to Seabase with my youngest son, Nick, and passing the swimming test at the age of 44.  I’ve been to the beach and pool many times, but never really learned how to swim due to my fear of drowning due to that event.  Prior going to Seabase, I actually swam every other day for several months straight, practicing and getting ready. I was destined to conquer that fear and I did.

Marcos, who became my sponsor for my confirmation.  Marcos was also the altar server counselor and he helped me through some very difficult times in my life.  Talking to me and just being there when I needed to be able to vent about my life.  He chased me when I was about 13 and I thought I could outrun him.  I was wrong. I ran about 2 blocks and even though he slipped trying to catch up to me, he did manage to catch me and carry me back to his place where he and a friend of mine when I was growing up, proceeded to hit me on my leg until I got a Charlie horse, for my 13th birthday :)  He was also the first person to take me to a movie at the theater.  Beyond and Back was the first movie I saw.  I was in awe, not only because it was the first time I had gone to see a movie on the big screen, but because of the topic as well.

However, of all of the people that I can say, inspired me to be the father I am, I have to give my thanks to my father in law, Miguel.  The relationship I saw between him and his son, was truly something to be in awe of and something I so desired to have in my own life.  Not necessarily for me to have it with my dad, but for me to have it with my own kids.  Many times, would I go to his house, while I was dating Luisy, that I would see him on the floor, wrestling with his son, hearing both Luisy and her mom yelling at both of them to stop because someone was going to get hurt.  The way that he would hug and kiss his kids when they said hello or goodbye.  Even if they were only separating for a few hours.  The way that he welcomed me into his own house, the restaurants that he took me to, the music we would listen together too.  His passion for music, desire for fun and love of life is something else.  He took me in as his own and never once, did I feel any different.  For my 21st birthday, he went and bought 13 lobsters at the supermarket and boiled them.  We then sat down and ate them at one time and I have yet to experience that moment again.

Now that I have my own sons, I have attempted to build a relationship with them, like the one I described above.  I have taken them fishing, swimming, to the movies, camping, hiking, bike riding and places around the world. I have attempted to teach the the value of family.  But most of all, I have attempted to be there for them as their friend, and someone they can talk to at any time.  While at the same time, make sure that they understand the value of working hard, going to church, and pursuing your dreams.

After all of these years, while raising my boys, I thank God that I have been able to get a second chance at reliving or redoing my life, but this time, doing the things that I wanted to do when I was growing up.  The second time around, has been even more amazing, since I did it with my boys.  I hiked with my oldest in New Mexico for a week.  Just the two of us, along with some other dad’s and sons, but in reality, it was just he and I.  We still talk about that trip today.

With my youngest, we sailed on a boat around the Florida keys, sleeping on the deck and looking at the moon and the stars.  But most of all, he was there with me, when I conquered my fear of swimming and I still recall him saying that he was very proud of me.

Over the years, I also gave back to my nephews, the things that were given to me.  I took them fishing, the lake, Disney World, and other places that I know they would not have had a chance to go to while they were young.  I did this because it was the right thing to do and because someone did it for me.

I have also dedicated 9 years to the Boy Scouts.  It was definitely a way for me to get closer to my boys but it also gave me a chance to give back and be something of a role model, based on my own experiences.  I think all fathers should do this.   Be a father to not just your son but all boys so that they can become better men.

I truly hope that my sons understand and appreciate the effort that I have put into trying to be the best father I could be.  To give them goals that they can aspire to achieve, but at the same time, know that if they fall or fail, I will be there to pick them up.

To truly know, what it is to be a Father…

Happy Father’s Day to all of the men who have guided me, inspired me, and helped me become the man I am today.  I am eternally grateful.

25 and Counting

Luisa, 

On May 26th, I was highly encouraged to ask you to the upcoming high school sports banquet by your friend Lucy.  When I asked you, you acted surprised but said yes.  Funny.  Three days later, we went to the banquet and had a very nice time, getting to know each other.  That was 1980.  Five years later, on June 8th, we got married in front of all of our friends and family.  We did not know what was coming, but had spent the last 5 years dating and really getting to understand each other enough that we felt we can definitely do this.  Thinking a like and sharing the same idea of what our future life would be like together and how we wanted to live it.  

Fast forward 25 years, and we have had a lifetime of amazing memories.  We’ve been through some incredible high times and extremely stressful, difficult times.  Wondering how we would make it, for a number of reasons.  At times we have stressed each other out where we both thought we couldn’t do this anymore.  But then we would think of the great times where we would have it no other way. 

Looking back at some of those memories, I think about the beginning where we were preparing to get married, only to get a call from the travel agent, three days before our wedding that United had cancelled our honeymoon to Hawaii due to their strike.  The strike that prompted us to call a month a head of time to confirm that we were still going on, and told by the United employee “oh honey, by that time, the strike will be over with”.  I think about the fantastic trip we had in St. Thomas instead, and how we both got so much sun burn that we had to sleep on separate beds because we were in so much pain.  Good thing it was only for 1 night ;-).  Remember the lady who knocked on our door at 3AM, who was completely drunk?

When we moved into our apartment and you made your first meal.  And the laughter we had cause it did not meet your expectations but I would have eaten it all up without thinking twice.

I think about my first business trip almost a year later and coming back to see you with a brace on your arm.  Wondering if this was how it was going to be.  Me go away and you fall apart!

I think about my trip to PR 4 years later, that also included a side visit to my family.  Calling you in the morning, after several days of being away, only to find out that you were having complications with your pregnancy and had been trying to reach me unsuccessfully.  Rushing home, to be with you.  Five months later to not only see the birth of our first son, but also having moved into our first house at the same time.  While we were excited about these two major milestones, the birth of our first child and our first house, we were also concerned because we were flat broke and could not even afford a Christmas tree!

I think about how we moved multiple times, and then finally ended up in SC.  With you in tears cause you were away from your family for the first time.  Then deciding jointly to have another baby, to be blessed with the ball of fire that came into our lives full of hair, energy and life.  How happy we were once our family was complete!

I think about all of the times that we both have received very bad news due to horrible situations with our families, including the times where we lost those who meant everything to us. And how we were there to support each other in those very painful times.

At the same time, I think about the positive things that we have experienced and how those have made us forget all of our pains. 

The amazing vacations we have taken to Hawaii (we finally went there), France/Spain, Puerto Rico, and all of the trips to Disneyland, Universal and of course, back and forth to NJ and Florida to visit family.  
Holding each other as we watched our kids sleeping, opening their Christmas presents, watching their performances, and seeing them grow up. 

The support you have given me in my career.  The confidence you gave me to continue to pursue my dreams, regardless of the obstacles that were presented by those issues outside of my control. 
How much we laugh together, in the morning, middle of the day, and at night.  Every time.  I swear you will outlive me because of this.

The way we just sit together and talk, hold hands in the car, the way I walk up to you, from behind you and smell your hair and kiss your neck when I come home from work.   

The way you treat my parents, especially now, that we are facing the most crucial test with their health and really do not know what comes ahead of us.

The ultimate highlight of course, being the pride we share at looking at our two sons, whom we have shielded from the challenges we have faced so that they can really take advantage of the opportunity we have provided to them, to give them the chances we have not had, the future they deserve, and the satisfaction that we did our job.  We have followed through on our promise to each other and them, and be proud of every one of their achievements, but also know that we were there to pick them up when needed.  That is indeed our greatest accomplishment and much to be proud of.  But in all honesty, we have done the same with every other child (nephew or niece) that is part of our extended family and have sincerely tried to do what is right.  We definitely set the example of what others should do and how they should behave and act.

After twenty five years, I cannot imagine going on this incredible journey without you and thank God that I did.  I cannot even begin to imagine how amazing the next twenty five are going to be, given how great the last twenty five have been.  Can it really get any better?

I am reminded of the words that we said to each other on the altar, on June 8, 1985 at 3PM and realize that we have definitely lived up to those words.  That they actually defined what we would do and how we would be with each other.

“I, Ralph, take you Luisa to be my wife.  I promise to be true to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health.  I will Love you and Honor you, all of the days of my life.”

I will eternally love you and am grateful for the love we share.

Happy 25th Anniversary My Love! 

Ralph

A selfless act of Mother.

In the next few days, it will be Mother’s Day again.  Which got me thinking about the impact my mother has had on me.  I then started thinking about the mother of my kids, my mother-in-law, my grandmother… and all of the women that I have known over the years and the underlying characteristic they have, that all mothers share.  Let me start by wishing all mothers a very happy and much deserved Mother’s Day.

Prepare yourselves.  This is a long one, dedicated to all of the mothers that have touched my life.  I hope that by doing this, my sons can understand and appreciate their own mother to become better men.

My memory at times, does not do me justice and I have forgotten things that I wish were recorded in things like pictures and videos.  Especially of my earliest childhood years.

My mom is a very quiet, non-aggressive and the most non-confrontational person I know. She goes way out of her way to avoid discussions on topics that will create friction for fear of the pain and suffering that it will cause.  Even if it is something that has nothing to do with her.  To say she sweeps things under the rug is an understatement.   To give an example, she and my dad go to the doctor’s office pretty regularly and have been known to wait for 1-2 hours either in a waiting room or in the examination room, while the doctor is running from patient to patient, and according to my dad, has forgotten they are even there for a visit.  When I ask if they want me to say something my mom is quick to say “No, please don’t.  I am sure he is busy with other people and I don’t want him to get mad at us.  It’s not a big deal.”  Of course it is a big deal to my dad and it is a major pet peeve for him.  :)

As I was preparing to write about this, I started to think back of some of the memories I have of my mom, such as when I was about 6 years old and came home crying because I had fallen outside and scraped my elbows and knees. She was the one that would treat those with alcohol and iodine.  Ouch.  It stings even as I write this.  Or for those birthday memories that I have where we would actually share a birthday cake, but only my name was on it.  You see, Mom and I share birthdays.  My dad loves to say, and reminder her every year, that I was a birthday gift for her from him.  To which she would immediately reply, “yes, and she remembers that she was in the hospital on her birthday, because of this “gift”.” 

In my house, as in a lot of Spanish homes at that time, at least those that I was familiar with, the father was the bread winner and the mom was the care giver.  Mom worked just as hard around the house, cooking all meals, doing the chores and babysitting. I think  most of the town’s kids were raised by my mom.  I still remember her kneeling down, washing our clothes on a washboard in the tub. 

Mom was the go to person for everything.  To some extent the same applies today but I do believe that fathers are much more involved in parenting so the lines have definitely become more blurred in this regard. 

I remember Mom sitting next to me in bed, teaching me how to pray, or feeding me Lipton chicken soup when I was sick. 

When I was about 11, my Mom’s dad, my Grandfather who used to live with us, passed away.  I remember bits and pieces of things he did around the house or the times I spent with him.  But the thing I remember most, was actually when my Mom came home from the hospital with my Dad, after my Grandfather had just passed away and seeing my mom crying as she walked up the stairs saying to me “Se no fue Rafy, se murio” which means, “he left us Ralphy, he died”.  I tried to think about how she felt about this and tried to support her even though I was devastated myself.

When I was in fourth grade, my Mom went with me to school to sign me up for band.  I wanted to be a drummer and needed my parents permission to do this.  I also needed $10 so that I can get my drum pad kit.  Mom came with me and I remember her taking the money out of her purse to pay for it.  I was excited as heck to be doing this. 

Years later, when I was in 10th grade, our band had a concert and not only was Mom there but the person who would eventually become my wife, and the mother of my kids was there as well.  The concert was actually for Mother’s day.  We were given a flower from the band to give to our Moms and I did.  I did not have one for Luisa at the time and I remember thinking about whether I was doing the right thing giving it to mom or should I give it to my girlfriend.  This was the first of many conflicting decisions over time.  I ended it up giving it to Mom.  What also made the decision much easier was that Luisa said it was ok with her for me to do so.

Later on, as I continued to date Luisa, we would go out dancing or to the movies or I would come back late from her parent’s house.  No matter what time of the night I would come in, I recalled walking into the door and seeing mom, in her robe, waiting for me, making sure I got back in time and was safe at home.

I remember moving out of the house and into my first apartment and remember my mom crying because I was leaving.  This was a few months before I married Luisa.  Funny thing was, I moved less than 10 minutes away and would still get to see mom almost every day.

I eventually moved out of state, and finally, after several years, convinced my parents to retire and move down with me.  I go over there several times a week to see my parents and love walking in and seeing the expression on Mom’s face when I walk in.  You know, it’s one of those things when you walk up to your dad, and you get a hug but it is like one of those “hey son” moments.  But when I hug mom, it is like “hi baby”.

Now that my mom is dealing with Alzheimer's, those hugs mean the world to me.   How she hugs and kisses me.  How she can still see and recognize me is something that just tears into my soul.  Sometimes I sit and stare are her, just to see if I can figure out what is going on in her mind, while I see her staring into space, wondering what she is thinking.  Of course, waiting for her to ask me if I want hot chocolate, no matter what the temperature is outside :) which she does this every time I go over there.

When I start thinking about all of the other women, such as my mother-in-law, my grandmother, my wife’s grandmother and especially my wife, I cannot but help to think about the same characteristic and traits they all share.

The selfless way they put everybody ahead of themselves.  It is unfortunate that we scramble on Mother’s day to say thank you for everything mothers do for us.  It needs to be something we do EVERYDAY.  But at least on Mother’s day, on behalf of my boys and myself, I say to my wife, “Happy Mother’s Day”.  But from the depths of my heart, I say to my Mom, Thank You.  Even though you lost your mom when you were only 3 years old and did not have one to help you grow and teach you about how a mother is supposed to act and what role they play in our lives, you did what came naturally to a mother.  For this, I will be eternally grateful.

Happy Mother’s Day.