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Alicia del Carmen

May 8, 2011 in Family, Personal with 0 Comments

My mother is a very simple woman who does not enjoy much luxury. She is content with having some Häagen-Dazs mango sorbet in the freezer, cold Kit Kat’s, a marathon of Meerkat Manor or Ghost Hunters on TV, and one of her “furry” kids on her lap purring. Simple, that’s my Mom.  My Mom had me when she was 21 and my brother when she was 26, and during that time she managed to work three jobs in order to ensure that my brother and I had a roof over our heads, clothes, and food on the table. She sold Avon and Mary Kay, worked at a restaurant, cleaned other people’s houses, worked at the radiology naval school in my home town as their part time receptionist, worked as a hotel receptionist (where she met my current Dad), and still found time to teach my brother and I how to read and write and just be decent human beings. She had help of course, mostly from my abuela who watched my brother and I when we were not in school. For nearly six years my Mom was a single mother who did her best and gave us the most love that is possible to give a single human  being.

Before Jesus was born, I remember her coming home very late from working one of her jobs and how I would deliberately stay up late to catch her because I wanted to wish her a good night. Sometimes I would catch her crying because it was all too much for her at times, but she still managed to cuddle with me and tell me how much she loved me. That’s always been the key to my Mom’s live–that no matter how tough things get she will always have myself, my brother and my Dad there to love and support her.

As I grew older I asked my Mom some tough and personal questions– I learned about her harsh childhood and her relationship with my aunts and uncles and my maternal grandfather (she was considered the black sheep of the family), I learned about my real Father and how much of a humongous asshole he is, how she met and later fell in love with my Dad (my step-dad) and how I almost killed her when I was born, and how depressed she was during her pregnancy with me and how shunned she was. Just knowing how she was ignored and taken for granted made me feel sad for my Mom, and I doubled my efforts to make her feel proud to have had me during such difficult circumstances. I know sometimes I don’t succeed, and that I have disappointed her and my Dad plenty of times, but I try my best and I do it so that she knows she made the right choices in her life and that those choices let me to be the best son and man that I could possibly be.

My Mom is an impossibly stubborn person and a hard worker. When she first came into this country, she felt awful that she could only speak Spanish. She did everything possible to learn English. She forced my brother and I to speak to her in English so that she is forced to speak it because she did not want to be a burden and an embarrassment to us when we went out places. She poured over books, listened to tapes, watch TV in English, attempted to read in English so that she could function in this new country. Two and a half years later she spoke English, not the best and rough, but she could get by. She always felt embarrassed about mispronouncing words or not spelling things right, but we always encouraged her to keep at it and we never said “No, its wrong” but “Okay, I see why you wrote it this way, but this is how its spelled” and explained why and so forth.

That stubborness to never fail led her to get her associates in Early Childhood Education, and several other certifications. After many different jobs, she finally found one where she is comfortable and happy to be in, and that pays wells. She pours herself into everything she does, and she never does anything half-assed. She goes out of her way to make sure that everything she does is the best, because she is always trying to prove to the world that she is the best.

She has proved that many times over to me and to the rest of my family. She still continues to be the black sheep of the family. She proved them all wrong by making something of herself, alone, with very little help but with the support and love of her children and her husband. My mother is an  amazing individual. I love her tremendously for being a strong woman, for still thinking like a little kid at times, for her silly jokes and her love of all things cat related.

I love you Mom. Thank you for always being there for me, even when I didn’t want you to be there. Thank you for being my number one fan and for all your sacrifices to get me where I am today. Thank you for being you and for bringing me into this world.

I love you.

My Mom and I at Christmas one year. Her and I have the same squinty eye thing going on. Love it.

The Rolex

May 7, 2011 in Family, Personal with 2 Comments


This morning my parents and I woke up early so that we could get a celebratory breakfast from Iris’ in Dunedin for my graduation tomorrow. I was very excited since my parents have never been there and Iris’ food is delicious, but first we had to make a quick errand stop–or so I thought. Where we went to was the Certified Clock and Watch Shop, the one with the really quirky commercials on TV.

So what were we there for? Oh, just to pick up my Dad’s late ’60s Rolex GMT Master. I thought nothing of it since he has been talking about getting it cleaned and the crown fixed for years, but when we walked in my Dad introduced himself and my Mom to the guy, then he introduced me and the guy smiled and said “Ah! Very well”. He came out with the watch all polished and cleaned, and asked me which wrist I normally wear my watch on. I just looked at the guy and told him it wasn’t my watch by my Dad’s, that is when my Dad just smiled and told me it wasn’t anymore. To say I was flabesgasted by such a gift is an understatement. I was touched, honored and that feeling that I am finally walking and getting my B.A. finally started to sink in. It took a watch that is nearly valued at $7,500 dollars to get me to that feeling, but it was finally there.

My new Rolex

Rolex GMT Master on my left wrist

 

We went home to eat breakfast and what awaited me was this note on the stove with my name on it and it says:

A Legacy for Carlos

How wonderful that you are the proud owner of me, a unique time piece conveyed to you by your father, for he and I have experienced a life full of exciting adventures that include, but are not limited, to the following:

  • In Germany we have gone to the Oktoberfest, drive through the Black Forest, shopped in Wiesbaden and drank in Heidelberg
  • In Ecuador we drove and climbed the Andes Mountains, dined in Quito, drove from Quito through the Tierra de Los Indies Rojo to the Pacific Coast
  • In Austria we drove though the Grossglockner and drank at the Hotel Franz-Josephs-Haus in the Alps, climb the Almen and walked Saltsburg
  • In Italy we traveled the canals of Venice, stayed in Cortina, enjoyed Florence, and drank wine under the Leaning Tower of Pisa
  • We drank Sangria on top of the Hotel Nacional in Havana, saw Hemingway’s La Finca, visited friends in San Francisco de Paula
  • Sailed the BVI’s, drank in Virgin Gorda, anchored at Norman Island and all the coves on Tortola, and visiting the Old Copper Mine
  • Had a ham and cheese sandwich and a beer at the Monte Carlo in Monaco
  • Traveled 49 states including Hawaii and stayed in Kauai visiting Fern Grotto and Hanalei Beach
  • Drove through Mexico with visits at: Island of Holbox, Valladolid, Uxmal, Campeche, Vera Cruz, Posa Rica, Tampico, Merida, Villahermosa, etc.
  • Raced Bermuda, crossing the Gulf Stream, saw whales, encountered storms, and drank Dark and Stormy at the Royal Bermudian Yacht Club
  • Skied Haystack, Mt. Snow and Brody Mt., crossed country skied by Mt. Pico
  • Traveled all the Providences of Canada from the Atlantic to the Pacific
  • Sailed the Historic Hudson River and anchored in the Great Salt Pond at Block Island
  • Sailed the East Indies crossing the fetch between St. Lucia and St. Vincent anchoring in Admiralty Bay at Baqua Island
  • Collected Nutmeg in Granada, purchased in Georgetown and had Christmas dinner with two poor English children
  • Drove through Schnook Pass on Mt. Rainer and then drove down to hop farms

All of these things we have done and more–and now I am your Rolex GMT Master–ready for new adventures.

Its safe to say that I cried a bit and gave my Dad, my hero and who I aspire to be half the man he is, a heartfelt hug.

I hope to add to the legacy and amazing adventures that this watch has been on, and that one day I can sit down all tell my son where this watch has been and that its ready to take on more adventures with him.

A loud family is a happy family: how my family is really weird and how I wouldn’t want it any other way.

June 28, 2010 in Family, Personal, Random Musings with 1 Comment

Mom and Dad at Cricketeer's enjoying a nice Mother's Day lunch

Whenever I want to sleep in on a day I have nothing to do, I am always woken up at a ridiculous time by my parents. Its not because they come into my room and get up, though they do so at times, but because they are naturally loud people at any hour of the day. Really loud. Obnoxiously loud sometimes.

We live on the second floor of our apartment complex and the kitchen is the hub of most activity (like I am sure it is for most families). We enter the apartment through the kitchen door, talk and just mess around in our small kitchen whenever possible. When I usually come home in the late-afternoon, I can sometimes hear my parents from the parking lot which is no more than 50 ft. away. That is how loud they can be in whatever they are doing; whether its my dad cracking a joke or just making one of his patented weird noises or my mother laughing at my dad’s crazy antics or yelling at one of our three cats for being mischievous. Yeah, loud might be an understatement for the level of their voices during normal conversation.

Since I have been brought up in such a loud household I can’t really stand to be around any long periods of silence. I need something to fill the white noise and that usually means listening to loads of NPR and iTunes playlists. At night I either sleep with my headphones and iPod or with music playing from my laptop. I need music in the background. Anyone who has been in the CCE office has heard me playing stuff off from Grooveshark or from Pandora, and whatever is on from NPR. Music is constantly playing. Even when I am out by myself I usually go to places where there is some form of live conversation buzzing around.

To me, this loud environment that I have grown up in means that its full of life. Yes, its not always happy loud noises; like the rest of my family we are hot tempered and can yell pretty loudly. I feel sorry for the neighbors who have heard our arguments. But there’s life, happiness, sadness, laughter, etc. in this very loud household.

Its what I want in my future household. I think back on other loud sounds that bring happy memories: my step-brother’s kids running down the stairs to get anywhere, my mother’s seagull like life, Howard our grey tabby’s meows late at night looking for some affection, laughter whenever my parents or I are making fun of each other.

So many happy sounds.