Tag Archives: perseverance

Un Dia a La Vez “One Day at a Time”

27 Sep

My grandmother used to sing this song of worship “Un Dia A La vez” in her sweet low soothing voice and without fail I would close my eyes, smile, and breathe deeply as it never failed to calm me. It was a mantra to live life one day at a time with the hope and perseverance that the next day would be better than the last. My abuelita was a strong, kind, and friendly woman; I have never met anyone quite like her. Seemingly meek in her quiet way but once prompted by a friendly smile, she would sidle up next to you and become your new best friend as she chatted away and rewarded your willingness to listen with the sweetest of smiles and a twinkle in her eyes.

I think back on those days whenever I feel the urge to close in on myself, whenever I want to shut everyone out and live my life in quiet contemplation. I think about how much she suffered, how hard she worked to give her family a better life, and how she never lost that sweet composition. Growing up I thought there must be something wrong with her; she never yelled, she was never upset; she didn’t raise a hand to anyone. Even when my devil of a cousin would do outrageous things that made ME, a five year old, want to smack him silly; she would sigh and sing to him while she held him, rocking him back and forth in her bosom.

Whereas I cannot aim to be as sweet of an angel as she was, I derive strength from her memory, her simplicity in living life: care for your children, smile because it will get better, and devote your life to God by giving hope to others. Her seemingly simple outlook in life is beautiful in its selflessness and I do aim to follow in her example as such.

I take solace in the fact that things have definitely gotten better. So I say to you, there is a lot of pain to be found in life; sadness, tragedy, and injustice abound; but will you live life one day at a time hoping and working to make each day better or will you lay your soul to die when you quit the hope of a better life?

I have hurt inside; we all do, in varying degrees. My pain is no stronger, stranger, or sadder than yours. It is painful to me as yours is painful to you. But the beauty in the human spirit is that I will never give up the pursuit of being a better, happier, kinder, and more helpful human being and in the process, reap the rewards of mending my broken heart and healing old wounds, even when they reopen from time to time.

I hold your hand and I tell you, It Gets Better. One Day at a Time.

Culmination and a new dress??

10 Nov

I was so excited; I would be able to wear a brand new dress for my 5th grade culmination. That’s what they called it a culmination not graduation. It did not matter, I was going to speak since I was being awarded the Vice-Principal’s award and my mom surprised me by saying we were going shopping for a dress.

“We’re leaving in an hour; make sure your room, the bathroom, and kitchen is clean before we leave.” I ran to my room and made sure everything was in place and changed out of my uniform into a pair of white jeans and t-shirt. I washed the dishes and ran around in a whirlwind of excited energy as I imagined what I would get to wear.

Maybe I would find a fancy black dress, simple and fitting so that I looked elegant giving my speech. I could squeeze into my sister’s heels and I would look great! Marla and Kandy would look at me with approval and I would smile slightly as if to show I always dressed that way outside of school…

I heard the engine running and my mom call out, “if you’re not out here in five minutes I’m leaving.” I had to pee but I ignored the urge and dashed out the door and onto the car and we sped away in our white 1984 Jimmy GM. I liked that car, with its red interior, brandishing the same year I was born. My sis and I worked hard to keep it clean both inside and out so that it looked almost new.

We went down Brooklyn Ave (now Cesar Chavez) and stopped at the BofA on Breed St. The line stretched out the door and there was no bathroom in sight. When we finally left and crossed the street to the fashion store I thought I would die and pee my pants. My mother kept passing me ugly dresses to try on that were too big on me but she figured they would last long.

As I was taking off a gray and black jumper that I hated, I felt the painful urge to pee. As my mother kept yelling at me in front of the other customers and the excitement of the new dress long ago dead, I felt a river of urine flow from my legs and over my white jeans and dress. I couldn’t believe it! I stared down in horror as hot tears streamed down my cheeks. I managed to whimper what had happened and I could see that the Japanese store owner felt bad that he hadn’t allowed me to use his bathroom. My mother yelled at me and slapped me hard complaining that she would have to buy the dress now and a slew of insults flew out of her mouth as she pushed me out the door and told me that I wouldn’t be allowed to ride home in the car. “Vete caminando! Haber si la verguenza te quita lo pendejo!”

I tried not to cry and wiped away the tears. As I waited for the light to turn green a woman, a Jehovah’s Witness, placed her hand on my arm and asked if I was okay. I was horrified that anyone would notice the yellow stains on my already tattered jeans and I shook my head and ran off as the cars came to a stop. I walked home in the dark and hated myself for being so stupid, so ugly, and worthless. How could I have done such a thing? I was ten years old and I had piss all over my jeans – making me shiver in the cold. I ran past the veteranos on Breed St, turned the corner on Malabar and ignored the catcalls of the fat old men trying to give me a ride. I contemplated not going back home and walking until my legs buckled under me and my heart gave out and my body could finally lie down in peace forever.

As my self-tormenting and wishful thinking came to an end I was back on Forest Ave walking down to the peach stucco house with my father’s figure leaning on the chain link gate. As I walked closer he opened the door and looked at me with sadness in his eyes; I could feel the tears edging on my eyes and the ball of emotion rising in my throat but I looked away and went to shower. By the time I got out everyone had gone to bed and I gingerly took my dress out of the plastic bag and washed it by hand and laid it out to dry. At least some stains come off with a little soap and water.

Silicon Valle MX

The Mexican tech scene

Lucesitas.com

Inmigracion: Intercambio de experiencias, consejos y preguntas sobre la CITA en CIUDAD JUAREZ

On the Fast Lane with the Flying Monkeys

Taking Life by the Horns and Making it Mine: Bad Ass Student, Professional, and Mother to 3

Bucket List Publications

Indulge- Travel, Adventure, & New Experiences

ChicanaBlogs

Smile! You’ve entered the poet's Blog

Flat-Footed

Surviving Los Angeles one step at a time

WordPress.com

WordPress.com is the best place for your personal blog or business site.