What happened to our Moral Compass?

One day, we will all look back and wonder, what happened.  How did we get here?  How did we get so wrapped up in our own "individuality" and caring only about "What's in it for me" that we forgot the shared values of being an American with others desiring the same goals?  Others that have the same dreams to be given the same opportunity to go as far as we can through Liberty and Justice FOR ALL.  How did we actually lose the content of our character and the direction of our moral compass?    

As Americans, compared to other countries founded on a specific "cultural identity" I remember when we adored the melting pot of a whole America, where we learned to appreciate, respect, value and actually benefit from others that are different from us but were united in a common goal and mission.  When we were the beacon of the world that made others aspire to be part of our great political experiment.

How did we end up worrying solely about the unborn but not really caring for them once they joined us in this world?  545 kids in cages still unaccounted for.  For those that don't trust the "local" news, here is the story from the BBC, so you can still see it from the eyes of the world as they gaze upon us.   

It is not about who built the cages but how and why they are being used.

That is clearly not what Matthew 19:14 says.  Again since we are only interested in viewing this through our own respective  lenses: https://www.biblegateway.com/verse/en/Matthew 19:14.  While the words may be slightly different there should be no doubt that the meaning is the same.  That we are all, Children of God.

With the Pandemic of 2020, the most vulnerable is our aging population, not to mention our healthcare workers.  While I am comforted that my parents are not around to be exposed to this disease, which would have definitely taken their lives given their health problems, how can we as a country not do everything we could to protect those lives we value so dearly?  I remember seeing this politician say he would give his life to protect the economy and way of life, and wondering why would we even debate this.  Why did we feel we had to choose one over the other?  This is America!  The nation that put a man on the moon!

As we get closer to this election my hope is that we all look deep inside and remember who we are as a people and what really unites us.  During 9/11, we huddled together and cried over our nation's shared loss of 2,977 lives.  With a pandemic that is currently taking this many lives roughly almost every 3 days, and more than 230,000 of our loved ones so far, as it continues to ravage our country.

America is not about a single person or a specific President.  It is about We the People.  It is about us getting together to take care of each other, to respect each other, to Love each other and what we strive for. To make a more perfect union.  Not that it is perfect but that it can be improved, by valuing everything we contribute to it as a society and as a diverse nation.

Words matter.  Our Behavior matters.  Our Soul matters.  Our Moral Compass matters.  

In my final words, I voted, not just for me and for my own values but to represent the over 3 million US citizens and primarily my family living in Puerto Rico that can’t vote for themselves.  

Mater artium necessitas

According to the UK website phrases.org.uk, the phrase "Necessity is the mother of invention", which they say translates to "Difficult situations inspire ingenious solutions" and appears to have been documented in Plato's Republic, but has also been traced back to it's first Latin use back in 1519.

Back in about 1990, when Dan was about a year old, I was talking with my sister-in-law Denise about how difficult it was to load the car with all of the stuff we had to carry, such as the car seats, diaper bags, extra clothes, and not to mention the 20 lbs. 1.5 year old, who was dead weight when he fell asleep!  We thought, wouldn't it be great if we did not have to lug the car seat and could just put the child in a seat built into the car?  Lo and behold, in '92, Chrysler introduced the built-in child seat for toddlers with other manufacturers following suit.

As an early teen, I was always inquisitive and curious. Wanting to know more about how things worked. I had a chemistry set and tried to make lava spew out of a volcano only to have it just go up in smoke. Literally, with a strong smell of sulfur requiring the windows to be opened for a long while.

Later in my years, not knowing the difference between AC and DC, I took an old car stereo and wired up an AC plug to it and plugged it into my outlet in my parent's apartment. Needless to say, I blew a fuse and my dad's gasket at the same time when the spark burned the wall.

As a junior in high school, I got my first computer, a Commodore 64, with the cassette tape drive (I could not afford the slow floppy disk, until at least a year later) and would spend hours typing in by hand the hex codes of a game from the Compute magazine I bought so I can learn to program and play a game at the same time. Oh how frustrating it was to transpose the digits in the magazine during the hours, if not days input, only to get an error and then having to go back and re-enter the thing again.

To think that I actually contemplated going to a music college to pursue a degree in music when all along, my calling was to become an engineer. Had I done so, I don't think I would have woken up so many times at night, to scribble something on a notepad that I was dreaming about, so I can remember that thought the next morning.  Even today, I wake up in the morning, mind racing, about a problem I worked on the day before, only to get a good night's rest and the inspiration to solve that which puzzled me for hours the day before.

Thomas Edison once said, "Many of life's failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up."

Today I came across a news article about a new mailbox alert sensor that Amazon is releasing a week from today.  The sensor, which is something they are adding to support their sidewalk wireless service that has been in deployment for the past several years, will tie to the Ring and Echo platforms and notify users when a person opens the mailbox.

It immediately brought back memories of a project Dan and I worked on when he was in elementary school which we called "You've Got Mail", pun intended.

Dan, I guess Edison was right.  We should have never given up.  We were sooo close! What should we do next?

Spread Your Wings

Last weekend, Luisa and I officially became empty nesters.  We moved Nick and Erin to their new place so they can begin their new life.  The following day, Erin immediately started graduate school and Nick started a new job.  My back is still in pain from the heavy furniture we moved up about 34 steps.  This of course, is to remind me of both the hard labor of last weekend and the excitement we had for them starting their new adventure and the next phase of their life together.

I remembered when I moved out of my own parents home to my first apartment right before Luisa and I got married.  The thrill of the new place that I called my own, and the uncertainty of what was to come next.  I remembered flipping all of the lights on in the entire place because I could and then coming to the realization, "Hey, I'm paying for this now.  It costs money." and then shutting off the lights except for the room I was in.

Luisa and I have been waiting for this moment, to begin our own next phase of our life for quite some time.  Not because we were anxious for both of our sons to leave, but because this is what parents are supposed to do.  Put all of their time, energy and focus in their children. Raising them to be independent and to think for themselves but to nurture them with a foundation that allows them to be amazing adults and contributing members of our society.  To take the best of what we have taught them, to learn from where we fell short, and to strive to do better than the previous generations that have come before them.

I have a lot of bird feeders around the house including a humming bird one right outside the kitchen window.  I am amazed at how many birds surround our house and enjoy viewing them as I drink my coffee.  I have a special affinity to the Cardinals and have written about their visits in past posts, reminding me of my parents who lived at Cardinal Woods Way.

In Erin and Nick's new place, they have a very cool patio area and for all of the grief that Nick gives me about how I love the birds, he mentioned that they can get some bird feeders and place it there so they can watch the birds come to feed as well :)

I couldn't help but think of the symbolism of the birds I constantly watch to Nick and Erin leaving their respective homes to start their new adventure and life in a new place.  In a Boston University Blog post, entitled Nature vs Nurture: How do baby birds learn how to fly?, the author wrote:

Nick and Erin, on behalf of both sets of parents, I am sure we have done everything we could to help nurture you, and to prepare you for this stage of your life.  I am sure there are things we could have done differently or even better but I am also sure that what we did, was with the best intentions we had for you, with our mutual interest in giving you everything we could and to help position you to succeed and to better than we have done for ourselves or our parents did for us.

To Nick, when mom and I made a decision to move from NJ to SC almost 27 years ago, it was for Dan and for YOU even though we did it almost 2 years before you were born.  We made the decision to lift up our roots and move to a new place, not knowing anybody, to create a better life where your mom would stay home to raise you and your brother.  To dedicate every second of every day to benefit both of you and raise you both how we thought best.  To position our family better financially, but also to primarily enable us to dedicate more time with you until this point.

The excitement in us beginning our empty nest phase is a combination of your mom and I wanting to focus on each other and remind us of what it was like before you guys came into our life, but also for her and I to celebrate what we believe was a "mission accomplished" moment having given our blood, sweat and tears to you both.  To toast many glasses to each other and smile at what we have accomplished.  Yes, though you don't like hearing it this way, but to create our legacy.

Which brings me to the next point.  You and your brother ARE indeed our legacy.  When you are in your new town, with the love of your life, remember who you are, where you came from, what values we instilled in you, what things we taught you and what we deemed important for you to remember and understand.  Primarily the values of Love, Family, Faith, Respect, Honor, Your Heritage and the hard work that came before you that you and Erin will indeed build upon.

This is your chance to spread your wings but also realize that we are just a phone call or roughly 2 hours away from you.  Just like some of the birds that hover over their babies to ensure that they can successfully learn to fly, we will watch from afar as you do the same and are here should you need us.  We love you and want nothing but the best for you both.

Now Spread your Wings and Fly!

Close your eyes

I love watching movies.  For me it is an opportunity to escape from the intensity of my days but also a chance to learn, think and reflect.  One of the movies that did that for me was A Time to Kill which was based on John Grisham's 1989 book.  I actually read the book back then before watching the movie when I had a lot of time on a plane traveling to Asia on business regularly.  Yes the book was better but the movie was very true to the story.

In the movie, during one of the final scenes, the defendant's lawyer gives the closing argument in the case.  (Note:  This is a very intense, descriptive scene and I struggled with placing it in here verbatim but decided it is warranted given the topic of my post.).  The lawyer, Jake Brigance (played by Matthew McConaughey) says: "I want to tell you a story. I'm going to ask you all to close your eyes while I tell you the story. I want you to listen to me. I want you to listen to yourselves. Go ahead. Close your eyes, please. This is a story about a little girl walking home from the grocery store one sunny afternoon. I want you to picture this little girl. Suddenly a truck races up. Two men jump out and grab her. They drag her into a nearby field and they tie her up and they rip her clothes from her body. Now they climb on. First one, then the other, raping her, shattering everything innocent and pure with a vicious thrust in a fog of drunken breath and sweat. And when they're done, after they've killed her tiny womb, murdered any chance for her to have children, to have life beyond her own, they decide to use her for target practice. They start throwing full beer cans at her. They throw them so hard that it tears the flesh all the way to her bones. Then they urinate on her. Now comes the hanging. They have a rope. They tie a noose. Imagine the noose going tight around her neck and with a sudden blinding jerk she's pulled into the air and her feet and legs go kicking. They don't find the ground. The hanging branch isn't strong enough. It snaps and she falls back to the earth. So they pick her up, throw her in the back of the truck and drive out to Foggy Creek Bridge. Pitch her over the edge. And she drops some thirty feet down to the creek bottom below. Can you see her? Her raped, beaten, broken body soaked in their urine, soaked in their semen, soaked in her blood, left to die. Can you see her? I want you to picture that little girl. Now imagine she's white!"

Thinking about recent assassinations of George Floyd and Ahmaud Arbery over the past couple of months, I could not stop thinking about something that jumped out at me.  

One of the early videos that was played continuously was Ahmaud walking into a house under construction the day he was killed.  Luisa and I commented about all of the times she and I have walked the neighborhoods where we lived or pulled over to a house under construction when we were hunting for a house or just dreaming of the kind of home we would like when we first started dating, where we would walk into the house under construction to look at the rooms, the framing of the house, and think about what it would be like to own a home like that or if we would make changes to the layout. As a matter of fact, in recent videos of the same home that recorded Ahmaud, you can see a white couple doing the same thing and walking into the same house to look at the construction. 

With George, the context or should I really say the pretext was that the police were called because he was trying to purchase something with a fake $20 bill.  It reminded me of when my parents moved down to SC when they retired.  My dad was 70 years old when he retired.  They worked until practically the day before they moved down, working full time, while also beginning to collect SS income at 65.  For 5 years, my dad would collect his SS and store it away, preparing for the move so that he could have his retirement.  We were shocked at how much they saved for this.  Having lived in an apartment all of their lives, they were able to purchase their first home by moving to SC.  Within 4 months of moving down, they moved into their brand new home.  In preparation for that big event, Dad gave me the cash that he had accumulated, and I mean cash, because for some reason he thought it was best to just take the cash from the bank in NJ and close his account than transfer it electronically to a bank here.  I took several thousands of dollars to the bank to open the account.  

When I gave the cash to the teller they put it in a machine and one of the $100 bills that dad gave me was fake.  The teller wanted to know more about it, and I was shocked that it was fake having never seen a fake bill.  I told the teller about my parents and where the cash came from.  The teller thought nothing of it, said OK, and confiscated the money. 

What if I closed my eyes and imagined that Luisa and I did not look like how we do and looked like George or Ahmaud?  Or what if George or Ahmaud looked like us?  

It's time for us to reflect on this and understand the undercurrents of what is driving this pain for our brothers and sisters of color.  If we are truly one race, the human race, and are all God's children, created in the image of God, how could it be that this acceptable to any of us, white or black?

It is time for us to take a moment to close our eyes and put ourselves in their shoes.  

Jane Elliott, a former school teacher, known for her involvement in the anti-racist movement, gave a speech to a predominately white audience on Race and being Black in America.  

Now open our closed eyes and let's do something to fix this problem of our own creation for God does not see black or white and loves all of his children.

Why I can't stop crying

My blog posts convey my own personal thoughts and feelings on various topics, primarily my life.  I do not speak for others, but I know I am not alone feeling this way.  It seems like everywhere we turn there is one more reason to be filled with pain and sorrow and in some cases even despair.  

Whether it is the pain we experience when we lose a family member, to the sadness of knowing that we have lost more than 100,000 fellow Americans, not to mention more than that around the world due to Covid-19 in just 3 months, to the unbelievable shock of watching someone getting murdered while gasping for air and the horror of looking at the person, who had committed to "serve and protect", show no emotion whatsoever while he was doing it.  

It seems like we are living a nightmare that we can't wake up from.  Watching a movie we cannot change the channel on.  Living in perpetual grief waiting for the next shoe to drop and scared to see what comes next.  After a brief period of healing at times, we are given reasons to continue crying over our sadness and pain.

Personally, I am losing my faith.  My faith in humanity and how we treat one another.  Not completely understanding how people could be so callous and cruel to one another.  The salt on the wound comes from the comments from "those of faith" who on one hand offer prayer and appear to worry more about the loss of property than the loss of life and the injustice we are all seeing everywhere right before our own eyes.   

I am losing my faith in America and the shared ideals and values of a nation who was once the shining beacon of the world, best described by the words of Thomas Paine in Common Sense:

"O ye that love mankind! 

Ye that dare oppose not only the tyranny but the tyrant, stand forth!...

O receive the fugitive, and prepare in time an asylum for mankind."

To the words from Thomas Jefferson in his National Prayer:

"Bless our land with honorable industry, sound learning, and pure manners.  

Save us from violence, discord and confusion, from pride and arrogance, 

and from every evil way.  

Defend our liberties, and fashion into one united people 

the multitude brought hither out of many kindreds and tongues."

To the plaque from the Statue of Liberty written by Emma Lazarus in 1883:

"Give me your tired, your poor, 

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

To the words of Martin Luther King who during his March on Washington address in 1963 said:

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where 

they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.....

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, 

every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, 

and the crooked places will be made straight, 

and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together...

With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, 

to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, 

knowing that we will be free one day.

When I see how cruel and inhumane our elected officials are in the treatment of minorities and people of color I think of the words of Cornel West, an American author who said: "You can't lead the people if you don't love the people. You can't save the people if you won't serve the people."

The past days and weeks challenge everyone of us to reflect on what are clearly the injustices and inequalities all around us. While some of us are lucky and blessed to be able to work from the comfort and safety of our homes due to Covid-19, others are taking risks not just to go out to work but to protest over the senseless killings of George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor and countless others.

The Smithsonian magazine in an April 2018 article said that in the 10 days following King’s death, nearly 200 cities experienced looting, arson or sniper fire, and 54 of those cities saw more than $100,000 in property damage. 

I do not condone or call for rioting and looting but we all have to come together to denounce the blatant racism and unfair treatment of people of color and minorities in general. This is not who we should be or can be and it is going to take every one of us to do something about it.

We need to inspire hope, give love, and promote change for all of us. Not just a select few.

In Matthew, Chapter 18, in the Parable of the Lost Sheep, it says: 

"See that you do not despise on one of these little ones, for I say to you that their angels in heaven always look upon the face of my heavenly Father. 

 What is your opinion? If a man has a hundred sheep and one of them goes astray, 

will he not leave the ninety-nine in the hills and go in search of the stray? 

 And if he finds it, amen, I say to you, he rejoices more over it than over the ninety-nine that did not stray. In just the same way, it is not the will of your heavenly Father that one of these little ones be lost."

For those that like to say All Lives Matter, well if you are truly a follower of Jesus, it is time to acknowledge that Black Lives Matter.

Raised by my father who basically taught me to "Say what I Mean and Mean what I Say" and with a mother who's attitude was "don't be so mean", we need to stop being given reasons to cry.

My Guardian Angel*a

Today is the first anniversary since we felt the warmth of your hand, the softness of your face as we caressed it, took in your scent as we hugged you and kissed your cheek, looked into your eyes as we saw you staring, though sometimes not really back at us.  365 days since you were called home.

More than a year since I called your name, "Angelita", and heard you respond with "uh huh" like you normally did.

As the 12th month anniversary of your passing got closer, I thought about how this year was not as painful as watching you go through what you went through, the last precious years of your life.  Even though you were not here and all of us have missed you dearly, the thought of seeing you one more day live a life you did not deserve brought more pain, anger and sorrow than your absence.

I thought about how you were finally free from the grip of the Alzheimer's disease that robbed you of your happiness and soul.  The feeling, deep in my mind and in my heart of how lucky I truly was to have you as a mom, is helping me deal with the anger I had built up all of these years as I saw you wither away from the shining light you once were.  At that moment when you left, I was overcome with a sense of peace, though if only for a short while, of finally seeing you not suffer anymore.  That feeling took priority over the fact that it would be the last time we saw each other in person, and from that moment, rely on the vast amount of pictures and videos that we have to remind us of our time together.

Last year, we physically lost you the day before Mother's day.  I remember the emotions we were all going through, were tempered with the sense of relief in not seeing you suffer any more and the beginning of the arrangements for your service.  This year, the anniversary of your passing is the day after Mother's day and the pain feels much more raw. 

Angelita, even though I am still healing from the deep wounds of those painful years, and have Luisa to thank for constantly reminding me of what we had and how special you truly were, I absolutely know that you are in a much better place.  With Dad, your father, brother and all of the others you once knew during your time on this earth.  That you finally, after 72 years, got to be with your own mother whom you yourself lost when you were only 6 years old.  An incredible mother who did not have one to guide you during your own life but just knew how to be one.

As we go from remembering the day you passed away and the length of time since then, to relishing in the happiness of the time we had with you, we will continue to heal with the disappearing pain.

I know that while I may not be able to physically touch you, you will forever be hovering over me and reminding me that the pain is temporary and that you are and forever will be, my Angel.

Years ago, I asked Nick to write a song about Mom to capture what we were feeling and going through as a family.  I could not have written the lyrics better myself.  It has been said that people wear their heart on their sleeve.  That must have been the case for Nick to capture not only what I was feeling but who you really were.

In the lyrics, Nick wrote:

"...And when it's finally over, I'll find a way to get by, I know that Heaven will welcome you.. because that is where you are from...."


 

During these past several months, as we live through this surreal moment in our lives during this worldwide pandemic, our family has discussed what it would have been like had you still been around in the frail condition you were in, and if one of us were to get you exposed to this awful disease.  How we could have continued to care for you the way we did, without putting you through even more harm than you were already in?  God had other plans when he called you home.  With enough time for us to begin to heal our souls and breathe again before reminding us of how frail we all are and how much we really need family.

I love you Mom and thank you for the life and unconditional love you gave us all.  I know you will continue to be my guardian Angel.

A Special Thank You to Nick and his former Remind Me Later bandmates Mark, David and Luke.  Angel is an unreleased track that will forever be the song that reminds me of how we all felt.

A Mother's Day Message for My Sisters (Mother's Day 2015)

5 Years ago, on Mother's Day, I wrote this message for my sisters.  Facebook reminded me of this memory and I have captured it here in this blog to save it.  This year, the second Mother's day, without Mom, was painful but this memory helped remind us of why we went through what we did. 

For our dear Mom.

---

Evelyn, Carmen, and Annie. This is an open letter to the three of you on Mother's day.

Each one of you deserves to get pampered today for everything you have done for your own individual families. You have each brought to this world and raised amazing and beautiful children, some of which are already adults with their own children or will in the not too distant future be crossing that path of life as well. You have shown them how to be a mother, how to love, to be strong and how to be there when they are going through their own challenges in life, whether it was losing a game, missing that pitch, breaking up with their "first love", struggling with homework, or everything else in between with your own individual touch. They should honor you for being there always and I am proud to call you my sisters and love your children as if they were my own.

Today though, in addition to your celebration of this occasion, my special request to each of you is to remember where the root of that unconditional love comes from. Our own mother. Each one of us can recall every time that we came home late from a party and no matter what time it was, there she was by the window and opening the door to let us in because until she was sure we were home safe, she could not go to bed. Every time we fell down, she was there with her alcohol and Mercurochrome (which was outlawed in 1998 actually – Annie I think you may have been spared this poisoning act), washing our clothes – originally on a washboard as I remember, preparing breakfast for us in her “bata” and when we would come home, there was always a full home cooked dinner ready. It didn’t matter if it was 4PM or 9PM. There was no exception to that prepared meal, even though at times we would come home and there were 3 or 4 other children she was taking care of at the same time so her and dad could make ends meet. 

She is, and has always been, the source and inspiration for who you are today. She never once expected anything except your love back to that unconditional love a mother has for her children. She was the epitome of a humble servant never asking for anything, or stating she was entitled to a vacation for all of the hard work she put into raising us. She welcomed our spouses as a member of her own family, and better yet, took our kids into her arms as if she were going to lead the task of raising them. Her joys in life were simple. Family and her only “tv show” All My Children. Even the show name is indicative of her true purpose in life.

We have to continue to pursue with the same tenacity she had for us, to help her through her most difficult and un-humanizing time of her life. To show her that she is not alone, though she may feel like it. That she is loved beyond compare. To treat her with the tenderness she has shown for each one of us. We have to be there for her, like she was there for us, and put aside our thoughts of how many times we have done something or if it is my turn or yours. It is the least of what we can do. As the first born in the family, and the only son, I thank you from the bottom of my heart, while I know is not necessary, for everything you are doing for her, along with my own wife Luisa. This is the time we have to rise to the occasion and show her that she deserves to be given back everything she ever gave us to get us to this point, and even more. Today, think about what the true definition is of Mother’s day, and I can assure you that one image will immediately come to mind. Our own loving, dear, and forever amazing mother, Angela. 

Happy Mother's Day to you.  I love you.