A Milestone

Recently I experienced the notion of dread associated with the passing of age. I celebrated turning 40. For weeks leading up to my birthday, I was feeling out of sorts and honestly, just couldn't put my finger on it. I spent some time in my own head trying to figure out why I was feeling so upset. I then realized, it was the onset of a potential mid-life crisis because of the milestone birthday of 40 years old.

I began doing some soul searching about what my life has been so far and am I where I want to be? Am I happy? I think it is in my personality to always want more from myself in terms of hard work and results. But, at this juncture, I don't think there is a way for me to have produced more results. I have repeatedly added to my plate when it has already been full. Said yes to my kids or to their teachers or coaches because I am the one here, the only one to be able to say yes to them or on their behalf.

I looked in the mirror, and deep into my own eyes. I saw smile lines around my eyes and mouth. A few sun spots dotting my nose and cheeks. The same green eyes stared back at me that have always been there. I half smiled at myself. I can only be who I am.

I have hopes and dreams for myself and for my kids. I teach them to have hopes and dreams and to work towards these dreams to make them a reality one day. I tell them anything is possible. I wonder though, is that really true for me?

As I go through my days, I continue to ponder the direction of my life without gazing backward too much. There is no room for self doubt or a senseless mid-life crisis.  Those things will have to wait until I am older. For now, I will keep on living, hoping and dreaming.

GOING HOME

All of the things from when I was young, now as an adult, have the capacity to bring me so much comfort, joy and sense of security. I have spent my life thus far, on a quest to see the world, learn new things, meet new people and experience other cultures; all a deviation from my childhood, a deviation from my roots. I have actively chosen a path of discovery that ultimately chips away tiny pieces of my core being. I find myself grasping on to these things from my childhood (a certain trinket, piece of jewelry, a song, a type of food, a smell, a view) even tighter as I grow older.

I have realized that my childhood comforts are fewer and some lost forever. I long for the days that I can run home when the street lights come on after playing all day in the neighborhood, to a warm and inviting home, where I feel that the world is limitless and my whole life still lies ahead of me, the work has been done, warm food on the table and I have not a real care in the world.

Cassie has returned home to us. I looked forward to her return with excitement and nervousness. I can only guess that she was actually having the chance that most of us adults wish for........ one last chance to return home. 

The Example

Very recently, we were the most unfortunate witnesses to an unnecessary and senseless violent crime. I was attending Justin's first football game of the season. There were a lot of spectators in the stands; some I knew and some I never had seen previous to this. It was a mixed crowd in age and race; some old, some young, some in between, some light, some dark; a grab bag if you will.

Justin's dad and I watch the game, casually chit-chatting with each other about our shared children and very different lives. Justin didn't get very much play time and we were both disappointed. Of course, every parent wants to see their child do well and be successful in all of their activities, and we are no exception. We had a long conversation about Justin being so laid back and how he generally lacks aggression in a competitive arena. We both expressed that Justin could develop a competitive drive and burning desire to win. Justin's dad made a comment about how some of the parents and coaches are way more aggressive than even the kids are. Little did we know that he created an unexpected foreshadowing in our lives. It was but an hour later that we bore witness to a violent crime.

After the game, with Justin's team in defeat, we headed out to our cars. As we left the football stadium the opposing team's coach and an uncle of Justin's teammate began having a heated argument. We were behind  them and within seconds, and right in front of us, the opposing coach was punching and kicking the uncle. It was a clear mismatch. Justin's dad and several other bystanders were encouraging them to stop. As I watched from an uncomfortably close distance, I continued to expect them to stop, to realize the danger to themselves and to us, to act like real men and be good leaders.

The coach was over the top angry at the uncle as he was under the impression the uncle was trying to recruit his player. I wondered to myself, "So what?" Is it really worth the risk to be fighting in this way? In front of all these people and children? On the street? It was almost dream-like, with things happening so fast and with me moving so slow. It was difficult to comprehend the depth of severity to what I was witnessing alongside my 10 year old son.

The fight escalated even again when the uncle was clearly in no position to defend himself and the opposing coach continued to relentlessly punch and kick this man. The uncle stumbled backward after a punch to his left jaw as his legs buckled beneath him. He went down hard. His head smacked the cement with a sickening thud.

Bystanders called for an ambulance and the opposing coach fled the scene. All the witnesses played a role in providing the police with enough information for them to make an arrest same day. The uncle went to the hospital, of where he remains today. I hope and pray for his recovery and for his family.

I wonder to the opposing teams coach, is THIS the example you provide for our youth? Is this really it?

Respect

I remember back to when I was young and recall speaking to my relatives, when I would address them it was in one of two ways. I would either call them Aunt or Uncle and their first name or I would just call them by their first name. For example, my moms sisters were with Aunt Robin and Aunt Shelley or Robin and Shelley. It never once occurred to me that it was not okay to address them in this manner or that it was not respectful.

When I had children of my own, especially with the Pacific Islander / Asian influence, I quickly learned in their culture that children must address adults with respect. I was surprised to learn that there are designated words in Tagalog depicting respect for a family member older than you. The word for older girl relative, with respect, is Ate (sounds like ah-tay) and the boy relative, with respect is Kuya (sounds like coo-ya). With their fathers influence, both of my children learned to speak to adults in a respectful manner, even when addressing others in English. Adult family friends are addressed as Mr. Carlos, Mr. Peter, Ms. Joy, Ms. Stephanie. It was our own little adaptation to the lack of a designated word in the English language. This formality has continued even after the divorce, and I am glad to see it.

Respect must be earned and it always must be mutual. Yet, I think in some small way, it is important for children, at least mine, to view the world around them with a small degree of humility and with some sense of respect for those that came before them. At least I like to think they have the capacity to honor others with their words.

In a world where honor and respect appear to be on a sharp decline, and selfishness and dishonesty prevail, let one small word of respect be like a candle in the breeze. May it have the capacity to shine in darkness and may it spread, one person at a time, to help make us all better people.

To Run

Relationships, as with everything in life, is truly about the learning process. As with the age-old adage, when you fall, you have to get right back up. If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. From birth, everything in life is a constant state of learning, growing, relating to the world around us and seeing how we fit in, discovering things as well as ourselves.

It is with great sadness when I see dear friends having to experience the same heartbreak and pain associated with the end of a marriage. Sadly as well, this experience is not ever something I would wish on my worst enemies. I don't think anyone needs to know first hand the level of heart bursting despair that comes with betrayal, rejection and an impending and final END. Although many people before me experienced divorce and many will come after me as well, each one of us must learn from our experiences so we can recapture our lives and ourselves.

Divorce is not limited to an age range or by skin color or cultural decent. No one group of people is immune either. The life altering and sometimes life-shattering event could strike at any moment and sometimes without clear cause.  

So, as it seems to be in life, when we stumble or fall, we may need to lie there for a moment to let the worst of the pain pass. And, as we are ready or strong enough, we can pull ourselves back up. Perhaps onto unsteady legs, we can remain momentarily. Until at some point we are able to walk forward again, until we can run. So, I wish for my friends the ability to, with time, run again. Until that time, please know a helping hand is there to pull us up, steady us, walk with us and perhaps run beside us. I am so thankful for my family and friends that have seen me to this point in my life where I am now; running

A Tiny Bit

I live in San Diego with no immediate or extended family aside from my two children. The closest relatives are approximately a two hour car ride, one way, with zero traffic. Needless to say, I am kind of on my own. That wasn't always the case. There was a time when my parents were local as were my husbands parents. (Now ex-husband) We enjoyed all the benefits of having family so close especially their participation with the kids, their activities and special occasions.

So I came to realize this past President's Day that I really missed having my own family close to me. Not that it could ever be the same as my mother passed away several years ago. But, I longed for them nonetheless. My son Justin spent his two days off from school during the day with my ex-mother-in-law. Please keep in mind that she is absolutely the sweetest, nicest lady ever and she adores my children and they without question adore her.

At the end of day two, I found myself driving to her house to pick up Justin and was fighting with myself inside my head about offering her money for having watched my son. Of course I should offer, right? She did ME a favor and I am nothing to her. She spent two days of her life helping me to stay employed. On the other hand, will I offend her if I give her money? Does she consider us family still? I walked up to the door still undecided and she opened the door and without thinking I said, "Hi Mom!".  She warmly smiled and invited me in, as she has always done for the entire length of my knowing her.
I surprised myself in accidentally calling her mom. By her nature, and as a part of her culture, family is a loose concept and she warmly hugged me.

Ultimately I offered her money for having watched Justin, it seemed like the right thing to do. But I wondered to myself about when you are no longer legally family, does those extended family ties become broken as well? In my divorce, I divorced her son. Does it mean I divorce the extended family as well? I would like to adopt the Filipino concept of family where neighbors, old friends and maybe ex-mother-in-laws can be a sort of extended family. At least for me, it seems to make this beautiful, very large city I live in seem just a tiny bit smaller, a tiny bit warmer and a tiny bit more accepting. 

Her Eyes

What's the old saying?  "If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, it's yours. If it doesn't come back to you, it was never yours to begin with." I think of this phrase often now that Cassie is in Italy. I remind myself constantly that in loving her, she is not a possession, not mine to hold on to. We can not own someone else. Although I frequently kid that my children are my people, I merely intend it in a figurative manner.....as a means of conveying 'tribal belonging'. I have let her leave my side, but never my heart.

The absence of my first born has left a void. I can back fill that emptiness with things to do, as those are abundant yet I am reluctant as I realize that it will only stifle my feelings.  And although I feel a great sense of loss at her lack of presence, I am more happy and excited at her opportunities in Italy than I am sad for myself. I am eager to hear about her exploits and her perspective and vision of the world. I imagine that she goes into the experience with a greater sense of personal pride and cultural respect than the average 16 year old would, strictly based on her own mixed heritage.

I often wish to go back in time, even just a couple of years, to regain lost moments, to have a chance to spend more time with them, so I can hug them more, listen more, talk more, just be together more. I am compelled to hug Justin more frequently now and I find myself holding on just a little bit longer. . . .noticeably hesitant to let go. I fear that I will open my eyes and it will be he that is trekking off to Italy or another foreign country or college.

I can not hold onto them with a tighter grasp. I must let them be the people they are meant to be. With a sad heart and sense of loss, I support Cassie in Italy and all of her life endeavours and I hope she returns to me from time to time so I can see through her eyes the amazement and wonder of her world.