For those of you who think I may be picking on my brother, and I am too hard on him, I need to share a little story to shed some light on the situation... I swear I couldn't even make up this stuff if I tried!!!
So, the other day I dropped Brandon off to Rusty and had to go check out some nursing homes for my dad before heading down to the hospital. As I was touring the nursing home, my brother texted me and said to please call him. He had something important to tell me. Well, I forgot to call him. He called me when I was at the hospital and was in the middle of talking with the doctor. I walked away from the doctor to take my brother's call. (Remember: He said it was important!) He proceeded to tell me that he was bored, so he called Budweiser. Apparently when he went to the store the other day all the cases of Budweiser were more than 90 days past the born on date... So, after talking to a rep at Budweiser, they are going to send him a baseball cap and shirt that are not usually available to the general public. At this point, I am just staring at my phone with the doctor standing about 4 feet away from me, and feel like throwing the phone out the window. Rusty goes on to tell me that this should have been a 3 minute conversation but it turned into a 15 minute conversation because it was almost like talking to himself... The guy was sooo cool!!! I asked what was so important that he needed to talk to me about.. He said, "Oh yeah! If you add Budweiser as your friend on FB (he does not have FB) you get a chance to win cool prizes like a tix to some movie opening, apparel, and other random souveniers." I hung up the phone and walked over to the nurse and told her, "If my brother's contact information is on record as someone to call in case of emergency, please take it out of my dad's records."
Deep down, I really do love my brother and he is good with my kids...But if I ever get to the point where calling Budweiser in the middle of the afternoon seems like a good idea because I am bored, please just shoot me!!!
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Friday, January 7, 2011
This is Soooo Not How I saw Myself Spending My 35th B-day
I made a resolution to make time for myself this year, to do things that "normal" people do, to make myself happy, and hopefully have a stress free year. Well, screw that resolution! I know we usually mess them up anyway, just didn't think it would be a week into the new year.
Today is my 35th birthday. I have never been one to really want to do anything extravagant for my birthday, but decided this year I would get a group of girlfriends together, go have dinner, and go dancing. I bought myself a new outfit and was really excited about going out and having "me time." Especially since I have spent the last month at home with my oldest son Brandon, who had his arm broken at school and I am dealing with a bunch of legal issues there. I am stressing about some medical issues that have popped up in my life. This past week was both Jorge and Mark's birthdays. I needed to be able to enjoy myself without worrying about a thing.
Some of you know that my father became ill last year. He has had bladder cancer for the past year, but it is not a major issue in his life. Last year, he went into complete renal failure from a mixture of contrast from a CT scan and his high blood pressure. I almost lost him last year, but he is a trooper and decided he was going to fight and start dialysis because he thought I needed him around. Of course I do, he's my daddy! But I also do not want to watch one more of my loved ones suffer! The road was rough at the beginning, in and out of the hospital. But he was managing OK after that. About a month or so ago, I noticed he was starting to look really bad. He said the cold weather was just affecting him. On New Year's Eve, my mom (they've been divorced 30 years) tried calling him and no answer. She decided to go see him and said he looked like crap. I tried calling him a few times this week, no answer. He called me yesterday morning and said he had woken up late, was late for dialysis, and would call me when he got home. He called me a little later and said he had been admitted to the hospital. Apparently he went to sleep on Tuesday night after dialysis and never woke up until 11:00 A.M. on Thursday. His breathing was very labored and he felt very weak. He has been on oxygen at home for the past 9 months or so. I went to the hospital last night, and he was not very coherent. The nurse (I will call her Mary Poppins on crack) told me he was doing lovely, he just has congestive heart failure (on top of everything else wrong with him.) His numbers were sky high. I gave her my number and asked her to please call me with any change in his condition and came home. I called this morning and his nurse (The bitch from hell) asked for a pin number. I told her I had no clue what she was talking about. She said to get any info over the phone, that I would have to know a pin number that they gave to my dad when he was admitted. I explained that my dad wasn't even really awake when I visited, and even if he was awake, he was in no condition to think about giving me some pin number. I also explained, that I am basically all he has. My brother could really care less about how my dad is doing. She said, we took him down to dialysis, he has breakfast, and if you want to know anymore, you need to come in here. (Now, my dad was admitted to this same hospital at least 5 times last year, and I was always called with any info they thought needed to be shared. I also happen to live an hour away, so it's not like I can hop in the car and be there in 5 minutes.) I tried calling my dad all day today, no answer. But since I am home with Brandon, I couldn't go down until tonight. My dad called me at 6:30 to tell me that he had been moved to the ICU everything else he said made no sense at all, especially the part about all the visitors in the room (angels?) I rushed down there and visiting hours for the ICU are different, you can only get into there until 7:00. I told the nurse, about how I had tried to call earlier, and was under the impression that he was still in a normal room. She let me in to see him. His breathing is terrible. Some things he said made sense, some things not so much. To be perfectly honest, he didn't "look" bad. He looked tan, and his face looked full (swollen), but he was gasping for air. And he just looked so scared. They would only let me visit for a few short minutes. When I was leaving, I told him I wanted a birthday hug and kiss (we are not a very affectionate family.) I leaned down and kissed him on the forehead and told him he didn't need to fight anymore. I had to tell Jorge and I had to tell Mark it was OK to let go. I couldn't get those words out of my mouth. He knew what I meant though. I didn't cry when I walked out, I actually felt a sense of peace. Then I called my mom (who has his medical power of attorney) and I told her that I was sure that if he gets to the point where he needs to be put on life support, I don't want that. He doesn't either, but from conversations we have had in the past, they both needed to hear me say that. I am ready to let me dad go. I was ready last year when he was so ill, but he kept fighting. His body can't take much more though. Who knows, he might turn around and surprise us all. I mean he is only 61. But then again, Mark was only 3 and Jorge was only 37. Whatever happens, I am ready. Now, I am home, by myself, on my birthday, writing in some crazy blog about my crazy life. Maybe, just maybe, one day things will be normal. One can only hope!
Today is my 35th birthday. I have never been one to really want to do anything extravagant for my birthday, but decided this year I would get a group of girlfriends together, go have dinner, and go dancing. I bought myself a new outfit and was really excited about going out and having "me time." Especially since I have spent the last month at home with my oldest son Brandon, who had his arm broken at school and I am dealing with a bunch of legal issues there. I am stressing about some medical issues that have popped up in my life. This past week was both Jorge and Mark's birthdays. I needed to be able to enjoy myself without worrying about a thing.
Some of you know that my father became ill last year. He has had bladder cancer for the past year, but it is not a major issue in his life. Last year, he went into complete renal failure from a mixture of contrast from a CT scan and his high blood pressure. I almost lost him last year, but he is a trooper and decided he was going to fight and start dialysis because he thought I needed him around. Of course I do, he's my daddy! But I also do not want to watch one more of my loved ones suffer! The road was rough at the beginning, in and out of the hospital. But he was managing OK after that. About a month or so ago, I noticed he was starting to look really bad. He said the cold weather was just affecting him. On New Year's Eve, my mom (they've been divorced 30 years) tried calling him and no answer. She decided to go see him and said he looked like crap. I tried calling him a few times this week, no answer. He called me yesterday morning and said he had woken up late, was late for dialysis, and would call me when he got home. He called me a little later and said he had been admitted to the hospital. Apparently he went to sleep on Tuesday night after dialysis and never woke up until 11:00 A.M. on Thursday. His breathing was very labored and he felt very weak. He has been on oxygen at home for the past 9 months or so. I went to the hospital last night, and he was not very coherent. The nurse (I will call her Mary Poppins on crack) told me he was doing lovely, he just has congestive heart failure (on top of everything else wrong with him.) His numbers were sky high. I gave her my number and asked her to please call me with any change in his condition and came home. I called this morning and his nurse (The bitch from hell) asked for a pin number. I told her I had no clue what she was talking about. She said to get any info over the phone, that I would have to know a pin number that they gave to my dad when he was admitted. I explained that my dad wasn't even really awake when I visited, and even if he was awake, he was in no condition to think about giving me some pin number. I also explained, that I am basically all he has. My brother could really care less about how my dad is doing. She said, we took him down to dialysis, he has breakfast, and if you want to know anymore, you need to come in here. (Now, my dad was admitted to this same hospital at least 5 times last year, and I was always called with any info they thought needed to be shared. I also happen to live an hour away, so it's not like I can hop in the car and be there in 5 minutes.) I tried calling my dad all day today, no answer. But since I am home with Brandon, I couldn't go down until tonight. My dad called me at 6:30 to tell me that he had been moved to the ICU everything else he said made no sense at all, especially the part about all the visitors in the room (angels?) I rushed down there and visiting hours for the ICU are different, you can only get into there until 7:00. I told the nurse, about how I had tried to call earlier, and was under the impression that he was still in a normal room. She let me in to see him. His breathing is terrible. Some things he said made sense, some things not so much. To be perfectly honest, he didn't "look" bad. He looked tan, and his face looked full (swollen), but he was gasping for air. And he just looked so scared. They would only let me visit for a few short minutes. When I was leaving, I told him I wanted a birthday hug and kiss (we are not a very affectionate family.) I leaned down and kissed him on the forehead and told him he didn't need to fight anymore. I had to tell Jorge and I had to tell Mark it was OK to let go. I couldn't get those words out of my mouth. He knew what I meant though. I didn't cry when I walked out, I actually felt a sense of peace. Then I called my mom (who has his medical power of attorney) and I told her that I was sure that if he gets to the point where he needs to be put on life support, I don't want that. He doesn't either, but from conversations we have had in the past, they both needed to hear me say that. I am ready to let me dad go. I was ready last year when he was so ill, but he kept fighting. His body can't take much more though. Who knows, he might turn around and surprise us all. I mean he is only 61. But then again, Mark was only 3 and Jorge was only 37. Whatever happens, I am ready. Now, I am home, by myself, on my birthday, writing in some crazy blog about my crazy life. Maybe, just maybe, one day things will be normal. One can only hope!
Monday, December 27, 2010
This Just Broke My Heart in a Million Pieces
OK, so this seriously broke my heart...Ryan does not talk much about his emotions. I went to pick him up at my mom's house tonight, and he had written a song. He got a new keyboard from Christmas, and this is his first song. (He is 8) I asked who it is about, and he said he does not know. I am assuming it's about his dad. He had my mom write down the lyrics for him. The little post it note is the title.
It's called: If I Ever Known Someone Better Then You, It Would Be You
If you leave my soul,
I might feel alone,
And I might feel so sad.
I wish you didn't leave,
What have I ever done,
Just stay with me please.
(repeat three times)
Yes, I know it's only two verses, but again, he's 8. He played the keyboard and made me sing this song. (The music he played was upbeat at least! )
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Mi Gordito.... (Brandon)
Ok, so back to the real reason I started this blog to begin with... My crazy, can this really be happening, wtf kind of life I have... My son Brandon is 12. He's has autism. If you know anything about autism, it's a spectrum disorder and some kids you might not even know are autistic and others are so low functioning that can barely function. Brandon is somewhere in the middle. He is the sweetest child and is very empathetic (which is unusual in a lot of kids with autism). He is my big teddy bear. He loves to cuddle and give me hugs! He can watch a movie once, and then is repeating it back word for word over and over and over again! I can ask him what day of the week any given date is, and usually after about a minute he can tell me correctly...(Shoot, half the time I don't even know what the date of today is, never mind what day of the week a date is going to fall on 6 months from now.) He can work any kind of electronic device, computer, phone, whatever that you put in front of him better than most adults. But, his diet is very limited, his favorite things to watch are Elmo and Barney and when you try to hold a conversation with him, not really happening... He is verbal enough to tell me his basic needs, to talk to me about certain things, to answer questions, but he gets irritated if you start asking too many questions. All kids with autism are different, but many do not know how to lie. (This would be true of Brandon.) And do not know how to engage in imaginary play.
So, this year Brandon started at a new school. I guess we didn't realize how good we had it at the school he has been going to for the past three years. But it was time to move on to middle school. We were told that the middle school in our area would not be an appropriate placement, and that he would be attending a school about 35 minutes from out home that goes from 6th grade to 21 years old. Many kids from the school he had been attending were going to this new school and we took a tour (from day one the place gave me the creeps!), but I trusted that the school was the right place if that is where we were told he needed to go. We had been preparing Brandon all last year that he would be going to a new school, he would be changing classes, getting homework, etc...
He started the new school in the fall. For the first month, he seemed to do fine. He didn't refuse to go to school, no calls about his behavior, things seemed to be ok. Then I went to back to school night...The nightmare began... I meet the teacher who (God forgive me) is DEFINITELY on the spectrum. This is her first year teaching, and they have decided (without informing me) to place Brandon in a brand new pilot program. He was in a self contained classroom with 5 other students. And the rest of the school was changing classes each period. For 45 minutes I listened to this teacher talk about what she planned to do this school year, and basically admit that for the past 4 weeks, they had not done a whole heck of a lot of work. I scheduled a meeting with her to speak one on one. I asked her to show me what Brandon had been working on, and she showed me NOTHING! She said he was a role model to other students because he didn't complain when she had to work with the other students, he just sat at his desk quietly... Ummm, how about giving him some work to do??? I got him out of that class ASAP. He started in regular classes. (This is a special ed school. When I say regular classes, I just mean that he was changing classes, had different teachers throughout the day, etc.) Things seemed to be going ok for the first couple of weeks. No major issues, he went to outdoor ed. Then the behavior issues started. Not to say that we never had behavior issues with Brandon in the past, but NOTHING like this school was telling us he was doing. This was one of my biggest fears sending him to this school. I was told that a lot of kids had behavioral issues and that Brandon may pick up on them. So, for the last month or so, I have been going to meetings, talking with the teachers, and trying to get him out of this school.
Fast forward to Monday about 30 minutes before school got out. I received a phone call from the health room that Brandon had an "incident" in the classroom, the security guard was in there, and that Brandon bumped his shoulder on the sink in the classroom. The nurse told me that they put ice on his shoulder, it was not swollen, just a little red, and that he was telling them that he felt "much better." She told me that she was going to have him come home on the bus, and to just keep an eye on his shoulder. I told her not to move him and I would be there in 30 minutes. I got there in 20. I walked into the school, no one wanted to look at me, the principal and vice principal were talking quietly, and then the principal took me down to the health room. Brandon was laying on a cot, with a sling on, a board under his forearm, and ice on his elbow. (But he hit his shoulder on the sink?) I told Brandon to get up and that we were going home. He could not get into a sitting position on his own. He started crying and begging us not to move him. The principal grabbed ahold of him and tried to pull him into a sitting position and I swear the cry of pain that came out of him was not human. I told her to get out of my way, I helped him up, and started walking out of the school. The teacher came up to me and wanted to chat about what happened. She told me some story about how she was correcting another student, then Brandon became agitated, she came over told him to calm down and things escalated. She had security come in because she "feared for her life". Security grabbed ahold of Brandon, and then Brandon bumped into the sink. And hopefully tomorrow would be a better day. I told her Brandon would not be back on Tuesday and that I needed to get my child to the ER. Took Brandon directly to the ER.
I explain to the doctors at the ER what happened according to what I was told; that he bumped his shoulder on the sink in the classroom after being grabbed by the security. They did X-rays from the shoulder down to his wrist. The x-ray technician walked over to me and made a motion with his hand like he's breaking a pencil and points to Brandon's arm. Then he took me into the backroom and showed me the X-ray. He pointed and said, "That's VERY broken and whoever did it, does not need to be working with children." A doctor walked into radiology, looked at the film, and walked over and started asking Brandon, "Who did this to you???" We went back to the ER room, and the doctor told us that it most likely is going to require surgery in the future, but for the time being, they moved the bone and placed a splint. Ortho doctor told me as we were leaving that the kind of break that Brandon has is called a spiral fracture and is caused by the bone being twisted and to do with that info as I see fit.
I filed a police report on Tuesday and Brandon slept off and on all day. Also left messages and sent several emails to people trying to figure out what I need to do next because it will be over my dead body that Brandon steps foot in that school again.
Wednesday we went to Children's Hospital. As we pulled into the parking garage, he told me, "This is Mark's hospital, not Brandon's." Had more X-rays taken. He was placed in a hanging cast. Need to follow up with Ortho Clinic at that hospital. It's going to be a rough recovery. It's his right arm, and he basically needs me to do everything for him right now. Now I need to figure out everything else that needs to be done....Long road ahead of us...But that is nothing new.
So, this year Brandon started at a new school. I guess we didn't realize how good we had it at the school he has been going to for the past three years. But it was time to move on to middle school. We were told that the middle school in our area would not be an appropriate placement, and that he would be attending a school about 35 minutes from out home that goes from 6th grade to 21 years old. Many kids from the school he had been attending were going to this new school and we took a tour (from day one the place gave me the creeps!), but I trusted that the school was the right place if that is where we were told he needed to go. We had been preparing Brandon all last year that he would be going to a new school, he would be changing classes, getting homework, etc...
He started the new school in the fall. For the first month, he seemed to do fine. He didn't refuse to go to school, no calls about his behavior, things seemed to be ok. Then I went to back to school night...The nightmare began... I meet the teacher who (God forgive me) is DEFINITELY on the spectrum. This is her first year teaching, and they have decided (without informing me) to place Brandon in a brand new pilot program. He was in a self contained classroom with 5 other students. And the rest of the school was changing classes each period. For 45 minutes I listened to this teacher talk about what she planned to do this school year, and basically admit that for the past 4 weeks, they had not done a whole heck of a lot of work. I scheduled a meeting with her to speak one on one. I asked her to show me what Brandon had been working on, and she showed me NOTHING! She said he was a role model to other students because he didn't complain when she had to work with the other students, he just sat at his desk quietly... Ummm, how about giving him some work to do??? I got him out of that class ASAP. He started in regular classes. (This is a special ed school. When I say regular classes, I just mean that he was changing classes, had different teachers throughout the day, etc.) Things seemed to be going ok for the first couple of weeks. No major issues, he went to outdoor ed. Then the behavior issues started. Not to say that we never had behavior issues with Brandon in the past, but NOTHING like this school was telling us he was doing. This was one of my biggest fears sending him to this school. I was told that a lot of kids had behavioral issues and that Brandon may pick up on them. So, for the last month or so, I have been going to meetings, talking with the teachers, and trying to get him out of this school.
Fast forward to Monday about 30 minutes before school got out. I received a phone call from the health room that Brandon had an "incident" in the classroom, the security guard was in there, and that Brandon bumped his shoulder on the sink in the classroom. The nurse told me that they put ice on his shoulder, it was not swollen, just a little red, and that he was telling them that he felt "much better." She told me that she was going to have him come home on the bus, and to just keep an eye on his shoulder. I told her not to move him and I would be there in 30 minutes. I got there in 20. I walked into the school, no one wanted to look at me, the principal and vice principal were talking quietly, and then the principal took me down to the health room. Brandon was laying on a cot, with a sling on, a board under his forearm, and ice on his elbow. (But he hit his shoulder on the sink?) I told Brandon to get up and that we were going home. He could not get into a sitting position on his own. He started crying and begging us not to move him. The principal grabbed ahold of him and tried to pull him into a sitting position and I swear the cry of pain that came out of him was not human. I told her to get out of my way, I helped him up, and started walking out of the school. The teacher came up to me and wanted to chat about what happened. She told me some story about how she was correcting another student, then Brandon became agitated, she came over told him to calm down and things escalated. She had security come in because she "feared for her life". Security grabbed ahold of Brandon, and then Brandon bumped into the sink. And hopefully tomorrow would be a better day. I told her Brandon would not be back on Tuesday and that I needed to get my child to the ER. Took Brandon directly to the ER.
I explain to the doctors at the ER what happened according to what I was told; that he bumped his shoulder on the sink in the classroom after being grabbed by the security. They did X-rays from the shoulder down to his wrist. The x-ray technician walked over to me and made a motion with his hand like he's breaking a pencil and points to Brandon's arm. Then he took me into the backroom and showed me the X-ray. He pointed and said, "That's VERY broken and whoever did it, does not need to be working with children." A doctor walked into radiology, looked at the film, and walked over and started asking Brandon, "Who did this to you???" We went back to the ER room, and the doctor told us that it most likely is going to require surgery in the future, but for the time being, they moved the bone and placed a splint. Ortho doctor told me as we were leaving that the kind of break that Brandon has is called a spiral fracture and is caused by the bone being twisted and to do with that info as I see fit.
I filed a police report on Tuesday and Brandon slept off and on all day. Also left messages and sent several emails to people trying to figure out what I need to do next because it will be over my dead body that Brandon steps foot in that school again.
Wednesday we went to Children's Hospital. As we pulled into the parking garage, he told me, "This is Mark's hospital, not Brandon's." Had more X-rays taken. He was placed in a hanging cast. Need to follow up with Ortho Clinic at that hospital. It's going to be a rough recovery. It's his right arm, and he basically needs me to do everything for him right now. Now I need to figure out everything else that needs to be done....Long road ahead of us...But that is nothing new.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Why Am I Single???
People ask me all the time why I am still single. What is wrong with me that I cannot find a man? My answer? Why does something have to be wrong with me? The problem with our society is that we believe unless we are all paired up, there is something wrong.
I have not always been single, and to be perfectly honest, the happiest times of my life were when I had a partner to share my life with. Just because I am “single” that does not mean there is something lacking in me that I cannot find a man. I spent the majority of my 20’s married, living in the suburbs, with my 2.5 kids, SUV, two car garage home, living the American dream. Only problem, it wasn’t a dream, it was a nightmare. I had to watch my oldest son be diagnosed with cancer and buried him before I was 25 years old. Two weeks after his death, his younger brother was diagnosed with autism. As much as Jorge and I were alike, we were also so different. Neither one of us liked fighting or confrontations. So, if there was something that we disagreed about we just didn’t talk. (I can honestly only remember one time that we actually argued in all the years that we knew each other.) I wanted someone who I could talk to about what I was feeling, and he did not know how to communicate/share his feelings. I loved being a mother and wife. I loved knowing that when my husband came home at the end of the day, he was coming home to a clean house, dinner ready, looking pretty, and the kids happy to see Daddy. But those happy days seemed to fade away as the years went by. Jorge would work longer hours to avoid coming home. He didn’t want to have to deal with what was really our life. His mom had somehow convinced him if he hadn’t married an American woman, things would have been so much different. (Because according to her, Latinos don’t get cancer or autism or have bills to pay or stresses.) We finally reached the point after having another child that we knew we could not continue like this.
We tried to pretend to be happy for another two years, but finally agreed it was best to go our separate ways while we were still both young enough to find love again. I say again, but looking back, neither one of us was really in love, we just wanted someone there in our lives, we were friends, it worked for us. We sold our house and turned into the typical divorced family with weekend visitations for Daddy. Funny thing is that once we were no longer living under the same roof, we became even closer. Anytime I was happy, sad, and good or bad, Jorge was the first person I would pick up the phone to call and vice versa. Problem was that I was not used to this new found freedom. I had weekends to myself to do whatever I wanted. And that’s exactly what I did. I did WHATEVER I wanted. I partied, I dated, I went a little crazy. I met all the wrong men. I was the perfect mom during the week, and then on weekends I would go crazy. And I paid the price. Some of you may know what I am talking about, and for those that don’t, it doesn’t really matter. Just know that I went through something that I don’t wish to ever go through again, but some good has come from it. I dated a few more men, but always seemed to find the ones that were so wrong for me. It was as if I actually tried to find the wrong ones so that I would not have to commit. They might have been married, bad boys, whatever, it didn’t matter. I think deep down, I didn’t want to get attached to anyone for two reasons. If they weren’t available, they couldn’t hurt me, and secondly, out of some sort of respect to Jorge, I didn’t feel right having another man here in front of his kids. That part is probably more of an excuse though. Even before Jorge got sick, he would always tell me that the one thing that he wanted for me was to find a good man; a man who loved me and his kids.
About three years ago, I decided it was time to grow up. I went back to school, was working again fulltime and things seemed really good for awhile. Then last year, my worst nightmare became a reality. Jorge became ill, and I knew what I had to do. The man who had given so much of himself to me and to his boys needed me. I put everything else in my life on hold and I took care of him. The doctors told him he didn’t have much time, so I brought him home with me so that he could be with his boys. They were his whole entire world! He loved them more than life itself. So, all I could do was try and make him as comfortable as possible so that he had that time with them. We would spend our days just sitting in silence, no words were really needed. I knew that he was not a talker, but I knew he appreciated what I was doing for him. Towards the end, Jorge would tell me every night, “I want you to be happy. You are such a good person; find someone to make you happy. And make sure they are good to my boys.” And on his final day, he reached for my hand, and told me that he loved me and thanked me for taking care of him. (As crazy as it may seem for me to say this, that was the only time I have ever heard Jorge tell me he loved me.)
Three weeks after Jorge died, I met someone. It was almost as if it was fate. He was perfect. (Ha! Ha! Ha!) Well, at least he was the opposite of anyone I had ever dated. For a short time I was really happy. Confused as hell... but happy to have someone in my life who at least appeared to be someone who I could see myself being with. He was single, good job, didn’t drink, smoke, swear, no vices…We would go out; we would stay in and just be comfortable in our sweats watching movies, watching football, cooking dinner, normal things! Then one day he just disappeared with just a text message saying he was on his way to Florida. WTF??? Those of you that know me know the rest of that story and why he was so dysfunctional anyway, it was still a blow to my ego as far as men go though. So, once again, I was back to being all by myself.
There is one more man I should mention. He is someone I met about three years ago; around the same time that I decided I needed to screw my head back on straight. Over the last three years, we have seen each other when time permitted. We both had a lot of things going on in our lives. Regardless, I always seemed to have a special place in my heart for him. Right now we both have a lot of issues that we have to work on in our separate lives and it’s not the right time to try to start a relationship together. I know for me personally, as far as I have come, I still have a lot to work on before I will be ready to be with someone else. And the two most important people to me are my children. I need to put them first when considering my future. It does give me hope though knowing that there is someone out there that makes me feel the way he does. He makes me smile, makes me laugh, makes me feel so safe whenever he puts his arms around me, his voice still gives me butterflies, and yes he drives me crazy (and not always in a good way! LOL) Even if things don’t work out in the future between the two of us, I am happy knowing that he will always be my friend. And it gives me hope that if I can feel that way about him, I am sure there is someone else who will eventually come along to make me feel that way too if we decide down the road we want to remain friends. So, why am I single? It’s because I have matured enough to know that just because I have a boyfriend/husband/lover/whatever that does not make my life complete. I need to be happy with myself before I can be happy with someone else. What do I hope happens in the future? I would like to finish up my degree, find a job that is rewarding not only financially, but emotionally. I want to see my children accomplishing whatever goals they set for themselves, and I wouldn’t mind having that special someone that comes home at the end of the day gives me a big hug and kiss, talks to me about how their day was, be able to sit down and enjoy dinner as a family and at the end of the night, be able to lay in bed, with their arms wrapped around me and tell me that they love me! For right now, I will settle for sharing my bed with an eight year old and his puppy who keep trying to hog the covers! And and eleven year old who loves me more than life, especially when I share my French fries with him! LOL
I have not always been single, and to be perfectly honest, the happiest times of my life were when I had a partner to share my life with. Just because I am “single” that does not mean there is something lacking in me that I cannot find a man. I spent the majority of my 20’s married, living in the suburbs, with my 2.5 kids, SUV, two car garage home, living the American dream. Only problem, it wasn’t a dream, it was a nightmare. I had to watch my oldest son be diagnosed with cancer and buried him before I was 25 years old. Two weeks after his death, his younger brother was diagnosed with autism. As much as Jorge and I were alike, we were also so different. Neither one of us liked fighting or confrontations. So, if there was something that we disagreed about we just didn’t talk. (I can honestly only remember one time that we actually argued in all the years that we knew each other.) I wanted someone who I could talk to about what I was feeling, and he did not know how to communicate/share his feelings. I loved being a mother and wife. I loved knowing that when my husband came home at the end of the day, he was coming home to a clean house, dinner ready, looking pretty, and the kids happy to see Daddy. But those happy days seemed to fade away as the years went by. Jorge would work longer hours to avoid coming home. He didn’t want to have to deal with what was really our life. His mom had somehow convinced him if he hadn’t married an American woman, things would have been so much different. (Because according to her, Latinos don’t get cancer or autism or have bills to pay or stresses.) We finally reached the point after having another child that we knew we could not continue like this.
We tried to pretend to be happy for another two years, but finally agreed it was best to go our separate ways while we were still both young enough to find love again. I say again, but looking back, neither one of us was really in love, we just wanted someone there in our lives, we were friends, it worked for us. We sold our house and turned into the typical divorced family with weekend visitations for Daddy. Funny thing is that once we were no longer living under the same roof, we became even closer. Anytime I was happy, sad, and good or bad, Jorge was the first person I would pick up the phone to call and vice versa. Problem was that I was not used to this new found freedom. I had weekends to myself to do whatever I wanted. And that’s exactly what I did. I did WHATEVER I wanted. I partied, I dated, I went a little crazy. I met all the wrong men. I was the perfect mom during the week, and then on weekends I would go crazy. And I paid the price. Some of you may know what I am talking about, and for those that don’t, it doesn’t really matter. Just know that I went through something that I don’t wish to ever go through again, but some good has come from it. I dated a few more men, but always seemed to find the ones that were so wrong for me. It was as if I actually tried to find the wrong ones so that I would not have to commit. They might have been married, bad boys, whatever, it didn’t matter. I think deep down, I didn’t want to get attached to anyone for two reasons. If they weren’t available, they couldn’t hurt me, and secondly, out of some sort of respect to Jorge, I didn’t feel right having another man here in front of his kids. That part is probably more of an excuse though. Even before Jorge got sick, he would always tell me that the one thing that he wanted for me was to find a good man; a man who loved me and his kids.
About three years ago, I decided it was time to grow up. I went back to school, was working again fulltime and things seemed really good for awhile. Then last year, my worst nightmare became a reality. Jorge became ill, and I knew what I had to do. The man who had given so much of himself to me and to his boys needed me. I put everything else in my life on hold and I took care of him. The doctors told him he didn’t have much time, so I brought him home with me so that he could be with his boys. They were his whole entire world! He loved them more than life itself. So, all I could do was try and make him as comfortable as possible so that he had that time with them. We would spend our days just sitting in silence, no words were really needed. I knew that he was not a talker, but I knew he appreciated what I was doing for him. Towards the end, Jorge would tell me every night, “I want you to be happy. You are such a good person; find someone to make you happy. And make sure they are good to my boys.” And on his final day, he reached for my hand, and told me that he loved me and thanked me for taking care of him. (As crazy as it may seem for me to say this, that was the only time I have ever heard Jorge tell me he loved me.)
Three weeks after Jorge died, I met someone. It was almost as if it was fate. He was perfect. (Ha! Ha! Ha!) Well, at least he was the opposite of anyone I had ever dated. For a short time I was really happy. Confused as hell... but happy to have someone in my life who at least appeared to be someone who I could see myself being with. He was single, good job, didn’t drink, smoke, swear, no vices…We would go out; we would stay in and just be comfortable in our sweats watching movies, watching football, cooking dinner, normal things! Then one day he just disappeared with just a text message saying he was on his way to Florida. WTF??? Those of you that know me know the rest of that story and why he was so dysfunctional anyway, it was still a blow to my ego as far as men go though. So, once again, I was back to being all by myself.
There is one more man I should mention. He is someone I met about three years ago; around the same time that I decided I needed to screw my head back on straight. Over the last three years, we have seen each other when time permitted. We both had a lot of things going on in our lives. Regardless, I always seemed to have a special place in my heart for him. Right now we both have a lot of issues that we have to work on in our separate lives and it’s not the right time to try to start a relationship together. I know for me personally, as far as I have come, I still have a lot to work on before I will be ready to be with someone else. And the two most important people to me are my children. I need to put them first when considering my future. It does give me hope though knowing that there is someone out there that makes me feel the way he does. He makes me smile, makes me laugh, makes me feel so safe whenever he puts his arms around me, his voice still gives me butterflies, and yes he drives me crazy (and not always in a good way! LOL) Even if things don’t work out in the future between the two of us, I am happy knowing that he will always be my friend. And it gives me hope that if I can feel that way about him, I am sure there is someone else who will eventually come along to make me feel that way too if we decide down the road we want to remain friends. So, why am I single? It’s because I have matured enough to know that just because I have a boyfriend/husband/lover/whatever that does not make my life complete. I need to be happy with myself before I can be happy with someone else. What do I hope happens in the future? I would like to finish up my degree, find a job that is rewarding not only financially, but emotionally. I want to see my children accomplishing whatever goals they set for themselves, and I wouldn’t mind having that special someone that comes home at the end of the day gives me a big hug and kiss, talks to me about how their day was, be able to sit down and enjoy dinner as a family and at the end of the night, be able to lay in bed, with their arms wrapped around me and tell me that they love me! For right now, I will settle for sharing my bed with an eight year old and his puppy who keep trying to hog the covers! And and eleven year old who loves me more than life, especially when I share my French fries with him! LOL
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