*Blog was written Monday August 29th, 2011. It references "last night" to meaning Sunday night.
I spent most of the day yesterday organizing things in my room and preparing for another school/work week. Since I’ve returned to school, I’ve been really staying on top of keeping myself organized and not getting distracted with my
health goals. I know that adding school to my work schedule will definitely interfere with my workout schedule since I usually do all my workouts after work at the beach. However, I’m determined to pull through this semester and fit into my jeans I’ve hung above my piano. I hung them above my piano so I can see them everyday and remind myself how much I loved my jeans when I used to fit into them. I need to lose about 25 more pounds to fit into them and I’m sure other jeans and shirts will add to my current wardrobe collection that I can wear instead of hiding them in the back of my closet haha!! The only thing that gets me nervous is that I won’t have time to do my usual workouts so with work and school schedule in hand, I’ve made a workout routine to fit into my busy weeks for the next four months. Let’s hope I can stick to it!!
After I finished organizing my room around yesterday, I couldn’t sleep all night and ended up staying wide awake around midnight. I had been watching a movie earlier in the evening and heard a beautiful song that just made me think of someone. I pulled out my trustee iphone and opened the Shazam Application. It’s supposed to recognize songs you’re currently listening to if you don’t know the name of it. Unfortunately, Shazam couldn’t identify it either. Probably because it is a really old song and not in its inventory. It reminded me of old classical music like that of in Casa Blanca (beautiful movie by the way – one of my favorites). I memorized a line from the song, googled it, and it turned out to be “Time After Time” by Margaret Whiting. I thought it was such a beautiful song. I purchased it on itunes and not being able to sleep, I go out for a midnight drive.
Normally when I cruise around Oceanside at night, I’m usually downtown riding along the 101
enjoying the bright lights of the busy street. Or, if I want it to be a little quieter, I drive south of the 101 and end up at Carlsbad Beach where I park my car, sit on the sand, and listen to the waves hit the shore and watch the stars at night.
I was headed north on the 101 driving along downtown Oceanside when I popped in the song I had just purchased. The slow melodic sound and that haunting voice of hers was pulling at my heartstring so hard (song is posted below). It made me think of someone. Someone I’ve written about here before. Someone who a month ago was asking for another chance. I guess I had every reason to be more cautious this time. I felt so connected to her voice in the song and feeling that at one point I thought I could say everything she was singing to this one person. All the hope I felt and everything I believed just disappeared without explanation. I wish I had the explanation. It isn’t fair to me. And I don’t understand how, just how it could happen again and how can he do that to someone. Especially after always believing him and trusting that this time it was real. I could never hurt someone like that. Never.
So as I slowly wiped my teary eyes, I put the song on repeat and tried to clear my head. I was so in love with this song that I couldn’t stop listening to it. I made a u-turn on the 101 and was headed south wanting to go to the beach. Listening to the song over and over again, the strangest thoughts entered my mind. I thought of myself serenading my nephew/god-son Diego with it. Maybe singing the song at my brother’s upcoming wedding, wishing them the eternal love this song represents. And then a memory entered my mind of my late brother Chava (Salvador).
I don’t know why the song made me think of him, but it did. It was a sweet memory. It was a memory from when my family and friends were celebrating my niece’s Quinceñera when I was 15 years old. I was two months away from turning 16 and I had already celebrated my own Quinceñera the year before. I served as a dama (maid) in her court and she had served as one in
mine as well. I was happy with my Quinceñera. I know my mom did all she could to provide me with one. As well as my older sisters who pitched in and I was truly grateful. But I remember feeling a bit down during my niece’s party. There we all were in a big rented salon with a huge DJ, a limousine, and center pieces that were so much prettier than mine. I never told anyone this, but I felt like all my older sisters put more of an effort into my niece’s party than mine because she was skinny and pretty and I was chubby and weird looking. I know that wasn’t the case, but I couldn’t help feeling this way. I know my niece’s parents (my oldest sister and my brother-in-law) had the money to provide her with everything for her party and my mom did what she could with mine. I don’t blame anyone for my party because I honestly had a good time. Even if it was in my backyard haha!!
But still, I was feeling down, sitting at the head table where all the maids and escorts sit, I was watching everyone dancing having a good time. The salon had an empty room to the side with a half-wall partition where the food was served and since it was empty, because dinner was over, I went in there to be by myself. I had turned off the light, took a chair, and sat in the middle of the room. I remember thinking about my dad and how I didn’t get to have my “father and daughter dance” with him at my Quinceñera because he had passed away four years prior. Then I remembered what my sister Lupe once told me when I was walking down the aisle at the church ceremony. She said “Make a little room for Dad. He’ll be there.” Oh man that made me cry so much that day. But I never talked about it.
Sitting in that room I remember thinking “Why couldn’t I have had this party too?” I was
leaning back on my chair, in my pink maid dress, with my arms folded across my chest when I began to fight the tears from coming down. I was trying really hard not to cry when my oldest brother Chava sees me through the half-wall partition from the dance floor, comes inside, turns on the light and asks “What are you doing in here?” I answer “Nothing. Just hanging out.” He could clearly see that I had been crying even though I denied it. Without hesitation, he grabs my arm and pulls me to the dance floor to dance with him. He was trying to cheer me up without admitting that he knew I was upset. I’ll never forget that moment. It changed my mood for the rest of the night.
I still think a lot about my late dad and brother. Sometimes, more than I want to. Sometimes, it overwhelms me. Sometimes, I feel guilty when I don’t think about them at all. It’s strange. I sometimes think about writing a book about it. A book about how the mourning process has been and still is. Sometimes I feel like it will never end. And I honestly feel so ridiculous to even write this and say it out loud because it’s been so many years now. It’s been so long. But maybe in all these years I’ve never really confronted the actuality of it. Who knows? I can’t say time will tell because time hasn’t told me anything this far in.
So I ended up at Carlsbad beach and parked my car. I walk onto the sand and sit myself down looking up into the sky. I know this sounds poetic, cheesy, maybe even dramatic, but it’s what I enjoy to do when I wan to clear my head. I have my iphone secure under my right shoulder bra
strap listening to “Time After Time” while looking at the stars and listening to the waves. I’m curiously looking around when I see a huge shooting star fall from the sky. It took my breath away. It was so bright and I felt as if I was meant to see it. I felt as if it was meant for me. I didn’t make a wish on it, like I normally do whenever I see one, but instead I said “Hi” to my dad and brother. Maybe it was them dropping in to say hello. It made me smile from ear to ear. I didn’t stay much longer since it was well past midnight but it felt really nice to feel what seemed like a spiritual connection to those I’ve lost. It's always been said that people in their darkest hour always find hope. I never want to have a dark hour. Even when missing someone puts me there. I just want to have hope. Thank you for reading.
I spent most of the day yesterday organizing things in my room and preparing for another school/work week. Since I’ve returned to school, I’ve been really staying on top of keeping myself organized and not getting distracted with my
health goals. I know that adding school to my work schedule will definitely interfere with my workout schedule since I usually do all my workouts after work at the beach. However, I’m determined to pull through this semester and fit into my jeans I’ve hung above my piano. I hung them above my piano so I can see them everyday and remind myself how much I loved my jeans when I used to fit into them. I need to lose about 25 more pounds to fit into them and I’m sure other jeans and shirts will add to my current wardrobe collection that I can wear instead of hiding them in the back of my closet haha!! The only thing that gets me nervous is that I won’t have time to do my usual workouts so with work and school schedule in hand, I’ve made a workout routine to fit into my busy weeks for the next four months. Let’s hope I can stick to it!!
After I finished organizing my room around yesterday, I couldn’t sleep all night and ended up staying wide awake around midnight. I had been watching a movie earlier in the evening and heard a beautiful song that just made me think of someone. I pulled out my trustee iphone and opened the Shazam Application. It’s supposed to recognize songs you’re currently listening to if you don’t know the name of it. Unfortunately, Shazam couldn’t identify it either. Probably because it is a really old song and not in its inventory. It reminded me of old classical music like that of in Casa Blanca (beautiful movie by the way – one of my favorites). I memorized a line from the song, googled it, and it turned out to be “Time After Time” by Margaret Whiting. I thought it was such a beautiful song. I purchased it on itunes and not being able to sleep, I go out for a midnight drive.
Normally when I cruise around Oceanside at night, I’m usually downtown riding along the 101
enjoying the bright lights of the busy street. Or, if I want it to be a little quieter, I drive south of the 101 and end up at Carlsbad Beach where I park my car, sit on the sand, and listen to the waves hit the shore and watch the stars at night.
I was headed north on the 101 driving along downtown Oceanside when I popped in the song I had just purchased. The slow melodic sound and that haunting voice of hers was pulling at my heartstring so hard (song is posted below). It made me think of someone. Someone I’ve written about here before. Someone who a month ago was asking for another chance. I guess I had every reason to be more cautious this time. I felt so connected to her voice in the song and feeling that at one point I thought I could say everything she was singing to this one person. All the hope I felt and everything I believed just disappeared without explanation. I wish I had the explanation. It isn’t fair to me. And I don’t understand how, just how it could happen again and how can he do that to someone. Especially after always believing him and trusting that this time it was real. I could never hurt someone like that. Never.
So as I slowly wiped my teary eyes, I put the song on repeat and tried to clear my head. I was so in love with this song that I couldn’t stop listening to it. I made a u-turn on the 101 and was headed south wanting to go to the beach. Listening to the song over and over again, the strangest thoughts entered my mind. I thought of myself serenading my nephew/god-son Diego with it. Maybe singing the song at my brother’s upcoming wedding, wishing them the eternal love this song represents. And then a memory entered my mind of my late brother Chava (Salvador).
I don’t know why the song made me think of him, but it did. It was a sweet memory. It was a memory from when my family and friends were celebrating my niece’s Quinceñera when I was 15 years old. I was two months away from turning 16 and I had already celebrated my own Quinceñera the year before. I served as a dama (maid) in her court and she had served as one in
mine as well. I was happy with my Quinceñera. I know my mom did all she could to provide me with one. As well as my older sisters who pitched in and I was truly grateful. But I remember feeling a bit down during my niece’s party. There we all were in a big rented salon with a huge DJ, a limousine, and center pieces that were so much prettier than mine. I never told anyone this, but I felt like all my older sisters put more of an effort into my niece’s party than mine because she was skinny and pretty and I was chubby and weird looking. I know that wasn’t the case, but I couldn’t help feeling this way. I know my niece’s parents (my oldest sister and my brother-in-law) had the money to provide her with everything for her party and my mom did what she could with mine. I don’t blame anyone for my party because I honestly had a good time. Even if it was in my backyard haha!!
But still, I was feeling down, sitting at the head table where all the maids and escorts sit, I was watching everyone dancing having a good time. The salon had an empty room to the side with a half-wall partition where the food was served and since it was empty, because dinner was over, I went in there to be by myself. I had turned off the light, took a chair, and sat in the middle of the room. I remember thinking about my dad and how I didn’t get to have my “father and daughter dance” with him at my Quinceñera because he had passed away four years prior. Then I remembered what my sister Lupe once told me when I was walking down the aisle at the church ceremony. She said “Make a little room for Dad. He’ll be there.” Oh man that made me cry so much that day. But I never talked about it.
Sitting in that room I remember thinking “Why couldn’t I have had this party too?” I was
leaning back on my chair, in my pink maid dress, with my arms folded across my chest when I began to fight the tears from coming down. I was trying really hard not to cry when my oldest brother Chava sees me through the half-wall partition from the dance floor, comes inside, turns on the light and asks “What are you doing in here?” I answer “Nothing. Just hanging out.” He could clearly see that I had been crying even though I denied it. Without hesitation, he grabs my arm and pulls me to the dance floor to dance with him. He was trying to cheer me up without admitting that he knew I was upset. I’ll never forget that moment. It changed my mood for the rest of the night.
I still think a lot about my late dad and brother. Sometimes, more than I want to. Sometimes, it overwhelms me. Sometimes, I feel guilty when I don’t think about them at all. It’s strange. I sometimes think about writing a book about it. A book about how the mourning process has been and still is. Sometimes I feel like it will never end. And I honestly feel so ridiculous to even write this and say it out loud because it’s been so many years now. It’s been so long. But maybe in all these years I’ve never really confronted the actuality of it. Who knows? I can’t say time will tell because time hasn’t told me anything this far in.
So I ended up at Carlsbad beach and parked my car. I walk onto the sand and sit myself down looking up into the sky. I know this sounds poetic, cheesy, maybe even dramatic, but it’s what I enjoy to do when I wan to clear my head. I have my iphone secure under my right shoulder bra
strap listening to “Time After Time” while looking at the stars and listening to the waves. I’m curiously looking around when I see a huge shooting star fall from the sky. It took my breath away. It was so bright and I felt as if I was meant to see it. I felt as if it was meant for me. I didn’t make a wish on it, like I normally do whenever I see one, but instead I said “Hi” to my dad and brother. Maybe it was them dropping in to say hello. It made me smile from ear to ear. I didn’t stay much longer since it was well past midnight but it felt really nice to feel what seemed like a spiritual connection to those I’ve lost. It's always been said that people in their darkest hour always find hope. I never want to have a dark hour. Even when missing someone puts me there. I just want to have hope. Thank you for reading.
2 comments:
Woowwww, se me salieron las lagrimas prima, buen trabajo. Love you cousin, aunque estemos so far but reading all your blogs its just like your next door.
Take care primita linda. bye.
(((Chino)))
Jesi,
Once again, I enjoyed your blog. All I can say is that you need to write what you feel about the loss of your father and brother. I lost my grandma 12 years ago, and I still feel I haven't mourned enough. As you said, time doesn't tell you anything; it's your writing, your feelings, your perception about specific events are the ones that tell you exactly what is going on... sometimes, very surprising revelations occur. I would love to read that book you're thinking in writing. Go for it!
Love,
-Jorge
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