We Call Him Gary

May 5, 2014

This moment in our lives was written a year ago, in the year 2013. It is so befitting for this-one year later-to start off these series of notes. Daddy calls them written memories...We call them tales of our world....you get the point. Enjoy

June 23, 2013

 Our story is filled with many people that have shaped our lives, from young to old, male or female.  This was due to the frequent times we had to move, since the last day we saw our mother. So far, it's a total of  thirty-five people to this date, that we have lived with. I know it seems like a lot. That's what Daddy told us. We don't think it's that many. Then again, we don't remember most of them either. Daddy does. He's our memory bank. He remembers things we had no idea we did. So, out of the thirty-five-Daddy told us about-eight of them watched us, as to allow Daddy, to go to work everyday and only a few truly became family. Take it from the Perez Family, we know a little something about meeting new people. A new addition isn't always easy. New faces to recognize, personalities to adjust to, attitudes to relate to, mannerisms to identify and all the while, brand new information to automatically process and project. The most recent-of those to influence our lives-is a man, who is referred to by my Daddy as, "a Godsend". I asked Daddy what that meant, he said

"There are events that occur in our lives, which cross our paths with people who will alter that life for the better or worse... a powerful connection, an enemy, a friendly aquatint or just a helping hand. It happens everyday, but every once in awhile, there is a person or persons, who show up, without pretense or warning, a clue or a sign, not an inclination of there being, to manifest an event that will inevitably be....

Exactly what you need, right when you need it.

Passing the point, of those simple, yet at the time, impossible to acquire needs, and gaining ever so close to what, you would also truly desire. That is when you look into the heavens, the earth. Look into yourself and know,....
This is something greater than you and I here. This is a welcomed confusion, an unparalleled requisite, a fundamental revision......
This. Is. A Godsend.
I am truly grateful and utterly speechless to receive such a gift from a total stranger and the fact that he follows and even agrees on how I raise you girls is the icing on the cake. Does that help explain the definition of "A Godsend"?

Heavy, elaborate, overwhelming response as usual.. Thank you for the explanation Daddy...I know you said something about Cake..and a Godsend..all we know is, we call him Gary.

Gary Turzilli is an older, Italian man, early 60's, slightly gray hair, a smile and a pair of glasses on his hairless face. He is like a grandpa; but chooses to be called by his name. He says, he wants to show us, there are people in the world who aren't related and will still lend a helping hand. He would not like to be considered as anything, but a friend. He is the man we are staying with after Brenda locked us out of her RV last month.  He's shorter than Daddy and loves to cook and sing like Daddy, and yes even at the same time. He owns a dog named Ginger, she's the best. She's an Australian cattle hound. Daddy keeps calling her "a dingo" along with the phrase, in a very peculiar, high pitched voice, "maybe, the ding ate your baby". I can tell Daddy loves her by the way he play fights with her and the fact that she sleeps at the foot of his bed-sometimes half the bed. He says "She is not a dog, she is a person." I respond with "No she's not, she's a dog". Covering her ears, he says again, "she's a person, Maritza. You're going to hurt her feelings". Alyssia calls her Gingy(jin-jee). Playing around with her, we stick our hands in her mouth and she knows exactly how much pressure before she can hurt our small, delicate, little hands with her bite. Daddy thinks it's amazing, he says the same about Gary's cooking. Gary says he was a Caterer, back in New York-where Daddy grew up. We believe him.  This man has prepared and cooked all our meals since we moved into his RV-seven weeks ago. Of all the places we have lived, I would have to say Gary's is the only place where Daddy isn't cooking. I haven't seen one of Daddy's signature dishes since we left Aunt Dawn's house. Where are my pastellios, Daddy? Not even a pot of rice? He says soon, we'll see.

Speaking of all this food, I can't wait for brunch at Chaetae AlyMar. Mmmmm.
Have you ever had a crepe? We had them for the first time, when Gary made them for us. They're pretty good, like really thin pancakes he makes from scratch-like his waffles, pancakes, and just about everything he cooks. He also introduced us to a dish, he calls "egg in the hole". Those who have had it, know what I mean. Those who don't....will. The reason I say this, is the restaurant he made in our name serves it, called Chaetae Alymar. It's gonna be big! Every weekend, for the past two weeks, our mornings have been filled with, bananas, blueberries and strawberries. Omelets, bacon and a warm smile, serving brunch in the Florida breeze. Come by....maybe Saturday,  we'll have an egg filled slice of toasted bread, with watermelon on the side Waiting for you.
 
Thank you Gary for all your doing for us and our Daddy. Your the best!

And The Beat Goes On

April 14, 2013

 I had to get Daddy up this morning, like any other morning. I knew for a fact he was awake, I heard his voice as he shushed me, only a little while ago. I said his name nice and loud like I was taught. I can hear him now "Speak up Maritza, so people can hear you!" This was not the case. For some reason loud, is inappropriate, that early in the day. Despite what Daddy would say, we can honestly say "we have trained him well enough-for him to know, If the sun is awake; so are we." There is light shining on everything for us to see. How can you do that, if you don't get up?

"DADDY'" Can I have something to eat."

He turns his head and faced me "Did you use the bathroom this morning?"

"OH!".. Trying to hurry(something Daddy reminds me not to do)..I moved swiftly through the RV that was in it's "bedtime mode"-the couch and the booth style dining area turn into beds-ran to the bathroom back to the bed and pulled close to an already awaken Daddy and said in the sweetest way I possibly could

"Daddy? I'm hungry..."

"GOOD MORNING, MARITZA."

"Good morning, Daddy....I'm hungry.."

Can you wait just a minute? You just woke up."I wasn't thinking about how long it's been since I woke up. I was thinking about how hungry I was as I said again with an elongated first syllable,
 "But, I'm hun-gry".

 "I know. That's why you asked for something to eat."

"Why do you always say that?"
 
"I say it, because I know your hungry, you just woke up"

 "Can I have some cereal?..." 

"Sure, Maritza."

"Can I have it right now?"

"Can you give me a minute?"

"Yes, Daddy..........How long is a minute?"

"Sixty seconds."

"How long is that?"

"One tick on the clock."

"How long is that?"

"A second"

"Why?"

"Alright Maritza, alright. I'm up, and look, Alyssia's up too. Good morning, baby"

"Good morning, Daddy....excuse me? Daddy?"

"Yes, Alyssia"

"Can I have something to eat?"

"You just woke up. Did you even go to the bathroom?

"Oh!" as Alyssia ran off, I looked at Daddy and said "Has it been a minute yet?

"Yes, Maritza it has, help me set the couch up"

"Can I have Cereal?"

"Didn't I answer that question, for you,  already?"

"Yes, but I really want some cereal"

"I know you do!"

"Why do you keep saying that?"

"Why do you keep asking me that?"

-just then Alyssia walks out-the same time Daddy reaches for the honey Kix- and says, "excuse me Daddy?.."

Grabbing our bowls now "Yes, Alyssia?"

"Can I have some cereal?......"

Forget Me Nots

"Don't forget", with his finger waving too and fro. "Don't you ever forget". At this point, in any conversation with Daddy, I have to ask-even when I think I know the answer- "Why, Daddy?" He loves it when I ask why, he says it keeps him sharp and on his toes. Daddy pauses. He gave me that look. The one that says "I have used my brain to construct the best suitable explanation of your questioning, are you ready"
I returned a look that said "attention span countdown in t-minus 20 seconds, are you done?". He laughed as if he knew what I was thinking and said,

 

"You should never forget, what you've experienced, what you have learned and what you have been through. This is the center of our existence, our memory. We use it as a time machine, take a trip to a period in our lives when life was wonderful, or, horrible. We can relive any sensation we have already experienced, smell the ocean, feel the warmth of the first rays of the morning sun on our face, hear the early birds chirping, see the smile of someone you love and remember the kindness of a stranger you met with more love than any family member. We can also go back in the data banks of our minds and relive the horrific moment of torture and ridicule, the inexcusable actions of another human being, the bad choices we might have made and the regret we carry, which eats at us from the inside. Don't forget, we use our memory for simple tasks, like numbers and addresses, names and faces, individuals and their personalities-their wants and desires, likes and dislikes. We can use memory as a tool or as a weapon. As a tool, it can be used to teach us, to mold us and shape us. It is this weight or stone-this massive, immovable, definitive object, in which we can still alter. 

This symbol is the bases of which our character, personality and identity are derived from. As a weapon it can be used as a torture device .A knife pressing against the throat. A weight that can only be carried on your back, gradually becoming heavier, until you are crushed beneath the weight of your own recollection. The strength of memory can bring down the strongest woman, the mightiest warrior or the bravest man. The thought of fear is enough to shake anyone to the core.

 So easily do we find ourselves surrounded by the experiences that should of taught us how to treat people. Instead, we use those experiences to defend ourselves out of fear of being hurt-in any shape or form-again. There could be a memory of misfortune which sparks a distaste towards poverty. A memory of having nothing to eat, sleeping on the floor and only taking one bath a week, which gives you an appreciation of wealth(no matter the size). A moment where you where bed stricken for months and gives you a new found appreciation of fully functional limbs or better yet, being healthy. A memory can alter your perception of any given situation-not because of the action-because of the feelings you have towards it. Understand, people you talk do not know what you are feeling as you voice your thoughts. They do not know how to deal with your feelings. They can only act on the words that they hear and the actions you exhibit. To believe that someone on the outside, can fully understand what you are going through-and vice verse-without being told is absurd and selfish. How can we expect someone to know our personal and individual memories? How could we force our "view" on to a being with memories of their own? How wonderful our memories can be and at the same time how destructive they can become.

 That's why, I will always remind you to never forget. Memory can be used to motivate the masses, persuade a nation or manipulate a single individual.  It can be our handicap, our burden or our greatest source of strength. Those without memory have the luxury and disadvantage of living each day as if it were new. Rediscovering the already explored. Never adding on to what has been learned or passing it on to an offspring. Then again, they can stroll through life without the persuasion of horrible memories and life altering situations and can come to a conclusion, unbiased. Should it be envied or should we empathize the naivety? Who we are and what drives us is fueled by our memories. We create our own reality based on memories. We as human beings were not taught the value of this(you will be). We take it for granted and let memories manipulate our actions towards our self and others. You must never forget... To forget, is to dismiss the knowledge of  years of trials and errors. To forget how it feels or how it makes others feel is an ignorant refuge. Be aware of your past and hold on to the memories. The promise I give to you from Father to daughter is this; I will not forget what it is like without you and what it took to keep my two, pretty little girls in my life. I will not forget the countless homes we had to stay at, to avoid living in the streets, the feeling of helplessness when I knew I had the power to do anything. I will not forget the envy and fear that fill the heads of the inhabitants of this world. I will not forget those who have helped us on our journey and I will not forget to teach you all about it now, so it will stay with you forever to brighten the path that you will walk, later in life. Does that answer your question, Maritza?"

"Yes.....but why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you doing this for us, because you love us?"

With a chuckle Daddy said "Yes, Maritza I do it because I love you. I also do it because-"

"Daddy?"

"Yes?" 

"That answer is good enough for me. I love you too, Daddy"

 

This Is Only The Beginning

March 21, 2013
 

 Sitting alone. Midnight passes, one o'clock rolls around with a quiet whisper. The loudest noise in the room can only be heard....,if you stop and think about it. Two pretty, little angels, sleeping five feet away. Clueless to the future that lie ahead of them. For words to describe it, you would have to catch a lightning bolt in a jar, scratch a caterpillar's knuckles, kiss the man in the moon and hug the sun. The frustration they will encounter will only be equal to the intrigue they will create.

Comments brought to light; become the light. Reinforced, consistently, day to day, night to night, awake or asleep. The belief of God, judgement day and the afterlife, replaced with the belief of empowerment, consciousness, and awareness.  Ignorance, being clueless or oblivious, defected with knowledge, information and wisdom. The ability to create your own reality, untaught to the masses. Explained to deaf ears and busy minds. Embeded in my girls.More trouble than what its worth? Could you put a value on growing up with wisdom instead of orders? Is there value in growing up, being raised to know, what you are eating is not just a yummy treat to reward yourself, or a crutch to hold your heavy and misguided body, but medicine. The earth we live on supplies us with all the medicinal  plants, fruits, and vegetables we can grow.

 

 When this. Obvious lesson is taught to fresh new minds, the metamorphosis become an identity not just an idea. A thought becomes a seed. The seed grows into structure of intimidation. Roots reaching into the core of the earth. A trunk so powerfull, no force on earth can move it, leaves of green, shading and giving comfort to anyone who needs or desires it and branches like arms reaching for the light, which eventually and expectedly bear fruit.

 

 Mimic, Copy, imitate.....learn. Children see children do. Examples are all a child needs. Build it and they will come. To thwart the bombardment of products and commercials, perceived as propaganda. Two precious lives, a year and a half apart, living under the rule of a man who is awake, aware. Where the greatest dilemma is functioning in an undesirable lifestyle of the modern day slave. Possessing the capabilities to co-exist within a society, riddled in submission. So to not disrupt the "unnatural" order of things. The delicate fabric can not sustain the knowledge of lies disguised as truths and truths disguised as lies. It only takes one truth to collapse a mountain of lies. Knowing that is the only way to understand how to be understood. The relentless   arguments, depression, suicide, accomplishment, material adrenaline rush, satisfaction,  politics, sports and religion keep us warm as the temperature rises without question. so goes the tale of the boiling frog.

 TO BE CONTINUED....

God Told Me To Give You This

March 2, 2013

 The morning started abruptly at 6AM with tears and blood. Poor Alyssia, the dry heat from the Quality Inn, in St. Augustine, Florida was the culprit this time-taking into consideration, Alyssia's nose usually bleeds in dry conditions. After the blood subsided and the tears turned into a smile, it was time to check on our "driving house", which by the way, is at Campers World, one mile away from the hotel for repairs. I left the hotel at seven forty-five and started this morning walk. I gazed ahead pass the palm trees that lined Outlet Mall Blvd, as I sipped my coffee, listening to my Dubstep station, on Pandora one, via my Galaxy lll, to find out it was a shorter walk in my head than on foot. Nonetheless, I arrived, discussed and departed. I even managed to get a ride back to the hotel. This wasn't the first time a business offered such a service. I wonder now if this form of hospitality is also given to patrons in Maryland? I never really asked. I got back to the hotel around nine-thirty....only an hour and a half until check-out. After telling Brenda "they might not have a chance to look at it until Monday" I searched the web for an inexpensive hotel. I found through Hotels.com, a great price, of one hundred and nine dollars for two nights, just a few blocks away-across the I95. We packed all our things including a rectangle tub of food we removed from the refrigerator. No power, No refrigerator. I made sure my girls had their sweaters on (a cold front passing was passing through northern Florida) and hit the road. I had a laptop bag containing our "windows to the world" on my back, the tub of food carried in front and Alyssia holding the strap from the backpack. Shane dragged a suitcase on wheels, filled with cloths behind him and a black tote of bathroom, kitchen and children supplies. His mother, Brenda had Maritza by her side, a bag over her shoulder, two blankets and two pillows in her arms. I don't think I've ever seen someone bring pillows and blankets to a hotel, but that's cool. The super8 wasn't far. Walking with a three and a four year old did make it much, much farther.

 

 There is something I have to confess about one of my character defects. When I start to notice events not coinciding with the holographic schematics, my mind has created, I start to become aggressive and insensitive to how others might be feeling and going through at that moment-and it hurts me to say-even towards my daughters. My mind focuses on the equation at hand, analyzes the best route to take. To insure the best "broken down to it's purest form" solution. What I tell myself to ease the pain or to justify the logic on my condition is, work now play later. Take care of your responsibilities, before you enjoy your luxuries. Sometimes I feel the guilt of my girls crying because Daddy's being mean, but through it all-no matter what-my girls love their Daddy and they know-not just hear-that I love them back.

 

We began our walk with a pep in our step and no intentions of stopping. That was until I started to feel my blood pressure rise as my fingers burned, carrying the weight of perishables. Alyssia unable to hold on to my book bag strap didn't help the situation. I started to project my frustration towards her, before realizing what I was doing. Brenda asked if I would like her to carry Alyssia on her shoulders to make it easier. I refused. "What a strong women Brenda is", All the things she was carrying and she still offered. Amazing. I said "no, that's alright, I've got her." I was wrong; about a 1/4 mile into our walk, the pain was unbearable-I couldn't take it anymore. I had to place what I was carrying on the ground, stand still-now holding Alyssia's hand-take a deep breath and try to lower my blood pressure. Brenda, Maritza and Shane were about fifteen feet ahead of us.....when an older gentleman, with white hair, standing about five feet tall, walked towards me and Alyssia. I was raised in Brooklyn, N.Y., so I still haven't gotten used to the hospitality of south. I looked at the man, trying to contemplate his motives, when he waved his hand towards himself and said "come here". I gripped Alyssias hand tighter as I thought "What the hell" and started to approach him.

"Hi" he said. I responded politely with "How you doin?".

"You don't see too many people walking around here"

"We're just walking to the Super8 hotel down the road across the I95"

"Do you need a place to stay?"

"No thank you sir, our RV is at Campers World, about a mile down the road, it won't be ready until tomorrow, so were staying at the hotel for the night"

"Do you need any help" I looked at him, smiled and the first thing to come to my mind was, "would he be able to help me carry this bin of food....I chuckled inside my head and asked him if he could give us a ride.

"Sure" he said "if I have the room". He turned to walk to his small blue pick-up truck. I lifted the bin and told Alyssia to stay close to me-she did. I looked at the pick-up and said, "I think we can all fit". I called Brenda, Shane and Maritza over, and told them we were getting a ride. Smiles lit up their faces. We packed the back of the blue pick-up with everything we were carrying including Shane and myself. Brenda, Maritza and Alyssia sat inside the front of the vehicle. During the short ride to the hotel, I discussed with Shane, how odd I thought it was for a stranger to ask us if we needed a place to stay. He said "nothing like Southern hospitality". I agreed. After five minutes of driving we reached our destination. We jumped out the back, unloaded our things. Before lifting my pile to carry inside, I put my hand out and asked the gentleman for his name.

"My name is  Joe".

"My name is Antonio. Thank you so much, for the ride."

"It was nothing.

 I picked up the bin and started to carry it to the hotel entrance when Joe and I made eye contact one last time. He smiled, made a gesture to place something in my left hand(which was full at the time) and said something that would stick with me forever.

 He said "God told me to give this to you".


"Thank you Joe."

 I humbly excepting it. He would be insulted if I refused. We all waved good-bye, and thanked Joe again and walked to the hotels front door. We found out check-in time wasn't until two-it was almost twelve-but the clerk would help to rush the process. It seems everyone goes that extra mile when you have children with you or maybe they're just generally nice. I have learned a lot about people, places and also myself. Not everyone is out to get you. Does it really all depend on where you're at? Lost in my thoughts, I forgot I was holding on to Joe's offering. I looked at my left hand and to my surprise and astonishment, Joe had given us, four fifty dollar bills. I couldn't believe it. I looked around as if to thank him again, knowing full well he was long gone. To the white haired fellow named Joe, who taught me "strangers are only strangers, until you say hello",

Thank you.....Wherever you are.


 

 

 

 

 

 

Knock-Knock, It's The Mental Institution

January 24, 2013

Hi! Maritza again. Just wanted to state that, this is written documentation that my Daddy needs a full brain scan. I'm talking about hugging himself all day while surrounded by pillows and the men in white. What made me come to this conclusion? Listen to this. Daddy says keep a foot on both sides of the fence? Why? Where is it and how big is this fence. Is he serious?
So I had to ask Daddy. With a smile(as usual when I ask him to explain something for me) he leads with,

"It's about being opened minded. You have to keep a foot on both sides of the fence. You must know both sides of any situation. Don't knock someone until you put yourself in their shoes. Think like a person without luxuries, and a person with more than enough. Think like a person who can walk, and one who can't. Think like a person who is homeless, and one who is not. A person who can see and one who can't. Put yourself in any particular position, then you can grow to appreciate what you have."

I have tried it and it just, makes me sad.

Daddy continues, "It would help to experience loss and pain, to empathize.....but we'll try to avoid it. Even though it's sad to say, it's a part of our life, our classroom, our teacher. I believe, It would be just as effective to-basically-imagine what it would be like. Break it down to it's purist form. Then the question I ask is, could you handle it? Would you be as strong as you are now? The brain is an incredible thing, Maritza. Never take it for granted. I know I have told you before, to "never say never", but this is the exception.

Never take for granted your five senses, your ability to walk, run, stand, jump, grasp, or stand, the joy of seeing the sunrise; feeling the warmth on your face, the serenity of the sun setting, to cue the calming of night, the walks along the beach, hearing the birds sing in the morning, inhaling the essence of breakfast in your house the moment you wake up. These, and many more are my perks of life. I will share them with you, so you will cherish the capability to hug, talk and listen to someone, laugh, cry and learn from someone, build, grow and prosper all on your own.
It gives your soul depth to consider other people, their situations and how they feel. It breaks that barrier(the fence), the blindness, so you are able to stand on both sides of the fence and see things for what they are, appreciate what ever it is you have! To understand, you must be open minded"

Open minded? Does that make any sense? Wearing other peoples shoes? I just don't get it. Why would anyone stand on both sides of the fence, when it's perfectly fine and acceptable to stand on one side. And when did he break the fence? Will he get in trouble for it? Where is this fence he speaks so highly of? Can I see it? Come on Daddy! I gathered my thoughts and confronted Daddy one more time about the fence and he said

"It's not a real fence, Maritza. It is the fence or wall put up, to block our vision of what is outside our lives."

So, now the fence doesn't exist? How can I believe what you say, when you keep changing the story around. I didn't get my answer; just then-ding dong-the door bell rang. Daddy went to see who was at the door. I glanced at the door. Daddy was blocking what looked like three men. One with a black clipboard tucked under the arm of his designer suit and tie. The other two men were bigger than Daddy, but not as tall. They wore white hospital scrubs and a mean look. I was scared; Daddy wasn't. He spoke to the men as if he knew them; he didn't. Daddy looked confused.

"Someone called the doctor and told them I was mentally insane. Did you call?", he laughed.

"No Daddy. I don't know how to use a phone"

"I was joking Maritza"

So was I.
 

To be continued......

I Don't Remember You, Do You Remember Me?

Hi remember me?
                    I am the youngest of your four children. I was the infant, who didn't have a care in the world. I was the little baby with the dark brown hair and dark brown eyes, just like Daddy. The first day of life given to me, was at Franklin Square Hospital. A hospital, Daddy said "was the better choice between the hospitals", Maritza and I were born in. When I was born I looked angry at the world because of the crinkle in my brow. Daddy calls it "My pretty girl, with the mean look. Born on Friday the thirteenth"-Whatever that means.  He told me when the doctor(a little old lady) cut the umbilical cord, it caused blood to squirt across the room, splatter on the floor, and desecrate a privacy curtain. She asked the nurses around her to "get something to mop this up". I've seen pictures of the curtain.; Daddy making funny faces in them, Do you remember? Daddy laughs when he talks about it. I asked him why? He says "It's a funny coincidence. Blood everywhere, superstitious date, horror movie, and the fact that I have pictures to prove it" A hearty laugh, along with "We will both have a good chuckle, when you're older" followed.

 I am older since we last saw each other. I was using a sippy cup and diapers. I was too small to think about using the potty, let alone by myself. I couldn't dress myself, feed myself, or talk. I was an infant, a baby. I am a big girl now, despite not remembering if I was walking when we last saw each other, or how many words I could say.  What I can tell you is what any three year old could tell you. I am potty trained, know most of my colors, the whole alphabet, and day by day, Daddy works with me to help improve my pronunciation and enunciation skills. I have a wonderful life.  Daddy is my guide and Maritza is my partner.  Even though she speaks for me, bosses me around, and takes up the spotlight, I am so happy to have her in my life. I could ask her anything, and if she doesn't know, I could ask Daddy, he seems to know everything about me and Maritza.  He keeps perfect records and accounts of our lives. He is a man of many words and even more lessons, but I guess you knew that. Daddy told me my first word was "Daddy". I smile when I think of it.

 Daddy doesn't speak much of you, only when Maritza asks. I did overhear, Daddy tell Maritza you were at work and you loved us with all your heart. I know must; every mommy loves their children. Maritza also says, we have two other sisters; Jazmine and India,and your name is Chrissie. The only reason I know this is, whenever someone mentions their mommy, Maritza yells out "my mommy's name is Chrissie!" I don't say a word based on lack of physical evidence. My eyes do have a tendency of seeking out Daddy when such a comment presents itself. My Daddy is my Mommy & my Daddy. I know he will always be there for me. He is confident with his words of discipline and logic. He has a respect for us that demands an echo, which request only the best from us. Daddy has been with me every step of the way in my adventures of becoming a big girl. He held my hand when all I wanted was a sippy cup, and all I kept getting were open top cups(Daddy calls them big girl cups). Daddy walked with me down the unfamiliar path to the potty. Where(I found out through my own observation)every big girl goes when they need to relieve themselves.

In hopes to break us of our pull-ups, Daddy has carried me and Maritza to the potty(separately) every night for the past two weeks. A few accidents, nothing major. Daddy says "accidents happen; it's nothing to be ashamed of". The joy that overcomes us when we wake up dry, is only matched by the feeling of wearing big girl panties all through the night. Don't get me wrong I loved the princess pull-up prints, but it's time to grow up and put(like Daddy says) "my big girl draws on". I don't mind, because my panties have Dora, princess, penguins and flower prints on them. So, I'm adjusting nicely. Thank you Daddy. He says his knowledge is the water poured on his blossoming roses(that's us) for them to grow. I can go on and on about my Daddy; he's all I've known these past years. He has been around for every birthday, every achievement, every bruise and scrape, every tear filled eye, every scary nightmare, and every sweet dream. He has been there to catch me as I fall, guide me as I wander, motivate me when I fall behind, reprimand me when I get out of line, and love me when love is all I need.

 The reason for this letter is because Maritza wrote one and I don't want to be left out. I see every child around my age with their mommy. I recognize the way they look at her. I see the same glare, watching Maritza stare at Daddy that way. What is that feeling? Why doesn't it bother me? Why don't I care?...Daddy says "you're to young to understand and to young to concern yourself with such trivial question." I looked at him with a sense of security, dependency and trust, every child feels towards their caretaker. I know Daddy is my life and my foundation. We have met and known many people who have come into our lives. Some nice and some not-so-nice. It's hard to recall their names at times; but I will never forget who truly loves me. My life is filled with wonder and amazement. So, you can't blame me for forgetting the absent and unimportant.  I only remember what's important in my life, and with I say "I don't remember you, do you remember me?"

Thin Line Between Genius And Insanity

January 7, 2013

  OK! My Daddy has officially lost his mind. He talks about masks he doesn't own, hats he doesn't wear. "Life is a stage", he says. "We're all just playing a part. Some can switch roles, others can't. Many refuse or don't desire to portray a different part besides their own. They say, "what's the point?". The point is persuasion, manipulation, anticipation, foresight , and Power. Is that a good enough point to stab like a diamond piercing your forehead?". Eww Daddy; we don't say that. "Sorry. I didn't mean it that way". Did I ever mention Daddy's favorite book is The 48 Laws of Power? It is. Daddy says "It's a most magnificent piece of literature; An inspirational belles lettre of non-fictional mastery."  (Whatever that means) Thanks Daddy! There could be clues in this book, I don't know. I could understand Daddy's insanity if I knew how to read. Daddy goes on to say "you have to wear a different mask for every situation. You follow me?" No, Daddy, but go on. "Let me stray of topic for a minute. The English language is a tricky collection of words. Every word holds a powerful meaning; how much emphasis we put on a word determines the weight the word puts on us. You still with me?". Carrying words? Weight? No, but continue.". We, who use this language on a day to day basis tend to mold it. Sculpt it into a form of weapon, an extension of the body, if you will." Do we have a choice? "No." OK.

"We wield this mighty instrument of peace and chaos. We all master the art; some don't acknowledge this gift of communication. Whether it be the practice of many, the ignorance of one, or the butchering of another, we must communicate. We eventually give words an additional meaning not originally intended. Our emotions once again, gain the upper hand, move ahead of the pack, take the wheel, and drive. It's so simple to understand. Yet, so difficult to comprehend. It is difficult to wake a mind up; after years of conditioning. It's hard to explain, when you girls are so young. I can still laugh though, because I will be repeating these words to you in many ways, shape, and forms; it will become second nature for you. The way religion is embedded in the minds of billions. You will have no choice, but to incorporate common sense, logic, respect, and reasoning into every facet of your lives" Hold on. What?

 "Take for instance the word selfish. A great example for the open minded. Self is the noun in the word. It represents the total, essential, or particular being of a person; the individual. Our consciousness of our own being or identity; our ego. -Ish is the suffix in the word. It is appended to many kinds of words; to suggest something typical or similar to. It is appended to adjectives to mean somewhat, appended to numbers-especially times and ages-to signify "about" or "approximately", appended to roots; denoting names of nations or regions, to "be of" a nationality, region, place, or the language associated with a place. So you see, there is nothing bad, harmful or dreaded about the word selfish. We convince our children to share when they are young, to later learn: don't trust or depend on anyone, but yourself. Confusing, like the phrase "don't hide behind a mask".

 "When I say masks. Many would get offended by the word, as if you were "covering who you are to fit in". If I had said "wear a different hat for every occasion", the reception of this thought wouldn't have been misconstrued. It would have been received as being prepared for any situation. If I can get the world to see this simple truth of our observation on reality and how we control it; I could begin to believe we can be more than drones, puppets and robots. We must use every moment to our advantage. Swim with the fishes, long enough. then, break off and take an alternate route. It will only help you to prosper and you will be surprised to know you have followers." Wait one minute. You just spoke of masks, the weight of words, molding, sculpting, weapons, instruments, butchering, driving, sharing, back to masks again, then to hats, fish, puppets and robots, and expect to have followers? I think it's time to get Daddy some serious professional help. Don't you?

I Remember You, Do You Remember Me?

January 6, 2013

Hi, remember me?
                I was two years old when we last saw each other. I have hazel green eyes, brown with light brown streaked hair, and many features in a face that clearly resembles your own. From what Daddy says, the very same look in my eyes, as you did. I am the child who lived in a big family. Two sisters and me. Then, it became three, me, my Mommy, and my Daddy everyday. I am the baby who crawled with one leg on the ground and the other one walking, remember?  The child who made you so proud when we sang our ABC's together. I am the baby who watched my Daddy go to work nearly every single day, while you  took care of me, India, and Jazmine, with Alyssia in your belly. I am your third daughter. I loved the color pink, and spaghetti and meatballs, I was the one who used to stand at the age of one, even though I couldn't walk, yet. My first word was Daddy. I am the baby who he drove to Bay View Hospital, on a stormy July sixth night as you caressed me in your stomach, while telling Daddy it was too far to drive to Franklin Square to have me.  Daddy's first child. The one who traveled on a greyhound bus to Brooklyn, N.Y. alone with him to meet his Mommy, before she died, my namesake in her hospital room when I was only 3 months of age. I spent two years of my life with you and two years of my life missing you.

 Do you remember the first day I walked? In front of Jazmines school? They were having a picnic on Dundalk Elementary's lawn for the 1st graders. I was afraid to walk on the hard surface of floors in our house; fearing the pain of falling. We didn't have carpets and the rugs were to thin. I was introduced to soft grass and dirt that day, the fear was gone. I took a shot; and I did walk. Five consecutive steps that afternoon. Daddy recorded that moment. We watch it sometimes. It's in his collection, along with countless photos and videos of us as babies. Daddy said he doesn't want us to grow up without remembering what's important. People tend to forget what's important, don't you think?  Daddy also says, "only the uneducated can forget what matters most and only the foolish think they can forget." Do you remember how Daddy was? The over thinker? I'm sure you haven't forgot. It hasn't changed-it's even worse. Remember when he said he would read The 48 Laws Of Power to us as we slept? I've heard Daddy talk a great deal about a book called Mastery, the next muse I suppose. I'm happy to have him around, I couldn't imagine life without him.

 We learn so much;Alyssia and I. It is mainly through Daddy's guidance-and a little of my own common sense-that I have come to a few conclusions during my life, thus far..... I am a wonderful person. I am a beautiful human being. I am somebody. I am the future. I am my own worse enemy. I changed my favorite color to red. I love spaghetti and meatballs more than ever. I can count to twenty. I recognize all the letters in the alphabet, pronounce the sounds they make, and I can even write them on our chalkboard or on paper. I start kindergarten in September. I will read before the summer. I still walk on my toes. I have long beautiful hair. I have manners and will correct anyone on theirs. I like to boss other children around. I have feelings. I talk to much. Not enough for Daddy. I love my sisters, I know who they are. I am the daughter of a man who has never left my side. I am great. I have nothing to worry about. I am loved and never will I doubt this. Daddy proves this with his meals-he loves to cook- to fill our stomachs, his deep thoughts to feed our minds, his high level of cleanliness of our cloths, body, and teeth, his humor to refresh our souls with laughter, his singing to boost our spirits, his motivation; to inspire the same, his confidence; so we never second guess ourselves, his light to brighten our future; so we can see the way, and most importantly; his heart.

 It's been so long since I've last seen your face. I ask Daddy where you are and so does Alyssia. All we ever get, with affliction is "Mommy's working. You'll see her someday". Daddy has all the answers except-for some reason-that one. I was wondering if you can look me in the eyes,identical to the pair you see in the mirror, hold both my hands, and tell me...Honestly?
Where you've been and what you've been doing?, where you work and live?, why haven't we seen you?, is Daddy telling us the truth about you working?, when will I see you again?, and what you're thinking as you read this?, I have one more question to ask because I love you.....
Do you remember me? I remember you.

Whats In A Name

January 2, 2013

 When we are born our parent or parents give us a name. Some are planned years or months in advance. Some are thought of at the day of birth, or days after. It is what we are called-our "label"-It is distinct. It belongs to us and only us. We use it everyday, and recognize it, when we hear it. Our name becomes and defines us, motivates and molds us. The way it is said projects intentions. From the very beginning, your name is on your birth certificate, written on your birthday cake, becomes your signature, and at the end of it all; ends up on your tombstone. You might have the same name as someone else, and still, your name feels unique when your Mommy or Daddy calls it; there's no doubt in your mind-they are calling you. We love to see our names in writing, on diplomas, degrees, and trophies. We like to see them in sports rosters, credits, and the spotlight. We love to hear it after the words, "The winner is, I love you, good job, and I missed you so much". The reversal to this is, we would rather not know our name, when we're asked "who did it?" or "who started it?" or when you hear your name called with such a tone, the only explanation is; You did something wrong. Our names are important to us.  Even more so, for adults considering they have had theirs a lot longer than we have. There are many who dislike and even despise their names. Whether they were named after someone they don't respect, named after something they don't like or perhaps they've grown tired of it all together and even have the desire to change it.  A few disregard their name, many embrace it.

 There is another form of  designation.  It could either be a shorter version of our name or something we have done to earn it.  They are called nicknames. They could be cute, ironic, obvious, irrelevant or funny. These nicknames-like our namesake-can be acquired during birth. Unlike our titles, it can be attained over time, in school, at work, through family members, through a childhood friend, or they can also be obtained by chance. Nicknames are created because they're easier to say, it's a traditional family by-name, or you gave it to yourself to better suit your likings. Lets face it, how could you get someones attention or how could you make contact with them from across a distance. What would yell out? Hey you? That could mean anyone. Daddy says our names so frequently, through the course of a day, it's almost as if he loves to hear himself say them. If it's not our names loud and clear, it's "pretty girl" or "baby" when he's getting upset.When the aggravation-shows it's smiling face-only towards me, you will here Mrs. Perez or simple baritone. Perez. Never have I heard him call us by anything else...He does have a habit of slipping and calling us by each others name, not frequently, but occasionally.

My question after the knowledge of this; Why do I hear parents call their children by other names? Is it that they don't like the name they gave to their offspring? Maybe, they made a mistake? Too difficult to pronounce? You would think after repeating it for years it would roll off the tongue like a melody. Instead, I hear names that can't possibly be their designated birth-name. A nick-name, maybe?  I've heard it in supermarkets, department stores, and other places parents reprimand. Calling their own creations "Stupid", "Dumb",  "Idiot", "Moron" or "Gay". How about "Retarded", "worthless", or "fat". Daddy doesn't let us use these words, but I'm only repeating what I've heard. Please don't tell Daddy. Ty. It hurts to hear these words; let alone imagine using these words as a description for a human being. Daddy told us we don't use bad words, at anytime anyone? No one likes to be called anything but their name. Even if, its "Tattle-Tail", "Copy- cat", "Meany" or "Greedy". We would rather hear the comfort of a familiar voice calling our name. Someone we love, saying our name with pride, confidence, and certainty. 

My question again is why would a parent call their children these things if its not their name? Are we not a product of our parents or guardians? Are we not their offspring? A chip off the old block? Like father like son? Like mother like daughter? If the apple doesn't fall far from the tree doesn't that imply that anything a parent chooses to call their child is just a description of themselves? If your child was brilliant as a result of your intelligence wouldn't you call him or her that. So it's safe to say, if you call your child stupid, it's in direct relation to your own stupidity?, and isn't name calling punishable by law? So I ask my Daddy. He looked at me; his hands preparing to sign(Daddy talks with his hands) and said " name calling is when there is a lack of vocabulary in a persons mind. When a person is unable to articulate their thoughts. They resort to name calling to escape they're trouble with the English language. It can also be when someone is so aggravated with someone-be it an adult or a child-they make the mistake of letting their temper get the best of them. Some feel regret after they realized what they had done and for some, name calling is all they were taught growing up; it's all they know.". "Did their mommy and daddy teach them to be that way?", Alyssia asked. "Unfortunately, it's sad to say, in most cases, yes". "Why, Daddy?". "That, I couldn't tell you, Alyssia."


 Daddy's eyes looked up from the floor. His gaze now on us; with a deep breath and said "I can tell you this, pretty girls, I will teach you to pay close attention to labels-much like any words you hear-to decipher whether or not they are a basic description, a polite gesture, a humorous term of endearment, a compliment, sign of respect, a display of affection, an insult, disrespect, abusive, or irrelevant. Along with that, comes my duty to educate you on the horrible truth of the untamed, undisciplined, and emotionally denied, the majority of our society's motivational inclination, and their indifference of the whole situation. It will be hard at times; I know. I just hope I can prepare you the best I can, for all this, and yet, it is not my greatest concern. My greatest concern is to train you to be aware of your surroundings, situation, possibilities, advantages, strategy and respect. To hard wire in you, the power and control you have over yourself. It is one of the many ways I can show you, I love you".
"We love you too, Daddy, but you could of just told us"
"I tell you I love you all the time, that's easy. Showing you through example is what makes me Daddy."

Happy New Year, 2013!

January 1, 2013

"Happy new year Maritza!!". "Happy new year Alyssia!!".
What is this we've been hearing all day. We don't remember hearing it before. It doesn't seem familiar. what does it mean?....we ask our Daddy & Daddy said, "the whole world celebrates the coming of a "new year". When the earth makes a full cycle around the sun and so do the people that inhabit it. The earth renews itself. It is once again in the position it has been in 365 days ago. The third rock from the sun and its animals follow a very predictable pattern. We as human beings follow a different path. We have the ability to choose our paths, we can change our pattern from year to year, or keep it the same, if we like. That is why the new year is so important for most. We can look back at all of our accomplishments and all of our mistakes. All the events that have changed our lifestyle, way of living, and way of thinking. A look back as if judgement day was upon us. There is an abundance of treasure in the gift of memory. Every moment is a gem, from the most common, everyday lessons, to the rarest, valuable forms of education through our hardships. Avoiding the past, is to be ashamed of it. Yes, we should never dwell on anything, instead, we should observe. Be our own observer. We must learn from example, and what better example then the one we have lived through this past year. The one we had front row seats for, all year long. The "new year" is first, a celebration of the old, a fantastic capability to look back at it all. To know you made it. To have all that behind you. Ready for a new.

 The word new-from what we know- is a clean, refreshing Like our new coats or our new boots. Or, better yet our new Christmas toys. So when we hear about a new year we want one too!! Daddy says "it's not like that but it's something like that." Huh? He said "it's like it's brand new. A new perspective, outlook, beginning, and hopefully attitude. Like a new toy right out off the box." Then we wanna see it. "You won't be able to physically see it" he said. "The new year is like an imaginary clean slate, which you can do what you will. Or, you can leave it in the box and wonder as you stare at it through the plastic.". "Can we play with it?", we both asked. "Not really, but if you think about it; yes you could probably play with it"-"So can we?", we asked abrubtly. Daddy chuckled, paused and said "you will get your chance. Unfortunately. you won't know if you played with the new year until it's over". With a bit of confusion in our minds we replied "That's not fair"Daddy quick with his words said, simply "Life's not fair girls. I'll teach you that". Observing the frowns on our face, he then added "It will be a ride to remember. My slate is like most. Filled with plans and maps on how my hopes and wants will unfold in the new year. The joys of spring. The energy of summer. The fun days at the beach, the pool, and the parks. Relaxing by the water, having a picnic, and the fact that I have my two girls with me, is the major plus to any year; and let's not forget you start school this year, Maritza". "Schooooool, yeaaaa......does this mean I won't see you and Alyssia all year long", I asked with concern. "No, it doesn't. You will be with us the entire year, from beginning to end". A sigh of relief expelled from my body as Daddy went on to tell us. "There are some who make the most of the "new year" and some who don't. There are those who are a victim to life's  circumstances & there are those who are a victim to their own circumstances. Those who will not let themselves remain a victim; work on change. It is a daunting task. It takes a lot of effort, time and dedication. Too much at times but we get through if we try. We look to the NEW Year as a way to give us that incentive and motivation to change. Even if it's minor . It's a lot to take in so look at this year 2013 as if you were sitting in a new car and Daddy was driving....
Buckle up. Sit back and enjoy the ride."
That's what will do and that's why we love our Daddy.
Happy New Year!!!!
We can't wait to see it.

I Now Know

     I Now Know                                                     

There is someone out there, who won't face me?
I just don't know.
There is someone out there, someone besides me?
I just don't know.
There is no-one out there, maybe its just me?
You never know.
There is no one out there that will replace me.
This, I do know.

Until that no-one becomes your everything, mind, body and soul.
You stop and drop everything, kindness, caring, and growth.
It didn't happen quick, or fast as some would say.
The process was a slow, natural, form of decay.
I was once that sparkle in your eye. The beat in your heart,
The reason you cried, when we are apart.


When did my face not make you smile.
When did loving me, cramp your style.
When did my hugs, not fill you with love.
When did you stop, the beyond and above.
When did my giggles, not make you laugh.
When did my efforts, not make you glad.
When did my trophy of number one,
become second place.
When did unconditional love,
become a race.

It's when I was no longer, your rush and your high.
Your drive, your desire, your reason to survive.
Your reason to leave in the middle of the night,
Your reason to give me your very last bite.
Your reason to spend your very last dollar,
because I needed milk, medicine or diapers

Now there's someone else, I see them standing there,
Who is it I wonder? Who has captured your stare
Who is this new twinkle in your eye?
Your reason for living, your reason to die.

There is someone out there who won't face me.
This I now know
There is someone out there that has replaced me.
Please let me know
Who that someone is? Why won't you introduce?
The answer for that is, I'm to young to know the truth.


It is  now, that I'm older, I'm not that little kid.
I know what happened, and I know what you did.
I couldn't give you the answer for the why? or for the how?
The same went for you with your "Not here, not now".
I asked you long ago to prevent the way I am feeling at this moment
I couldn't forgive that someone, No room for atonement.
I couldn't believe it took this long for me to come up with an answer,
More like the many reasons, you headed towards disaster

I finally found out the name of that someone you loved
That someone who took away, your spirit and your love.
But, that someone's not a person, No, not a person at all.
That someone is drugs. And I do,
forgive you for it all.

-Anonymous

10/5/2011

Daddy, Can I Talk With You?

``November 9, 2012


  You know the feeling when you're trying to get your point across or finish your sentence and someone constantly interrupts you? The agony the brain feels when it is done processing information and comes to a conclusion, and you're not allowed express it? I feel it everyday I come into a battle of wits with my Daddy. It starts of slow and easy then erupts into a all out war of the minds. At the height of our quarrel, it is sufficient to say, I do not posses the capacity of knowledge that he does, and I may not have lived as long as him, but I want to be heard! Daddy claims, he knows what I am about to say from the first couple words and a close observation of my body language. OK, that's fine, but I want to hear my sentence from the first word to the very last. I don't want to lose my train of thought even for an instant. When that happens, I begin to direct my anger at him, instead of the reason for my anger. I begin to lose my grasp on the conversation, confusion sets in, I start to doubt my own words, shortly after, my mind. I want to be confident like his assertiveness towards Alyssia and I. Speaking of which, I could only imagine the moment Alyssia and I, team up and utilize the very skills, confidence, common sense, and deductive logic used to raise, discipline, sculpt, and train us.

 There's a phrase Daddy's been using for the past couple of months? He says something to inform us of his grasp on the situation, then ends with "It's because I smart". We have been taught how to speak, so we know that sentence is inappropriate. Me, being the smart one(not to mention the only one between Alyssia and myself to articulate our words) I would tell him "It's not, I smart, It's I'm smart" After numerous attempts of correction, he gets the hint and follows with a corrected "I am smart". It took some patience, something Daddy says we do not have, I beg to differ. We have as much patience as the next kid. Still, Daddy says we should practice having patience more often. In return, Daddy should make it a point to practice the same, but I'm wouldn't say that directly to him. Out of respect and all, a characteristic learned by example. Much like hearing us out, letting us finish our sentences, anger, serenity, passiveness, frustration, aggressiveness, and politeness, right?  "Monkey see, monkey do. What I see you do, I do too!"  We soak it up like a sponge and squeeze out what we don't need and retain the rest.  My question, is it his personality that hinders his ability to hear us out or is it his "parenting skills" hard at work? I haven't quite figured that one out, yet.

  Daddy's parenting skills are resilient, unyielding and relentless. Here's a tiny tidbit of information to help you to understand his ways. Daddy always ask us a question, and when I say that I mean, when he notices us doing something we need correction or guidance on he will ask a Question. He has been like this since I've known him. He would ask us "Why would you?", "How could you?, or "Are you supposed to be doing that?" Rarely, do we receive a demand or an order and only when he reaches his boiling point, but he does well at keeping his composure and asking questions. I asked him "why?", and his reply was "I ask because I want you to realize(one of Daddy's favorite words) what is going on, I want you to be aware(another one of Daddy's favorites) of what you girls are doing. Anyone can belt out commands in hope that you listen out of fear. I want you to be aware (there's that word again) of your actions and their consequences."

 One evening, halfway through our dinner, without any food in my mouth(I know how he gets), I said "Daddy, can I have more,  when I am done eating? Daddy finished chewing, swallowed, and asked with a crinkle between his brow and a look that could kill "Why are you asking for more, when you haven't even finished whats on your plate? That's called being greedy" I replied with my "newly invented way" of beginning a sentence when I talk to him, "But, Daddy! I was just asking for more because"- Daddy interrupts with "I asked you, why would you ask for more and you're not finished with what you have?"-"But Daddy! I was asking because I"- again he silences me. His voice is stronger and deeper than my tiny voice, even though I've learned how to project it more. "Why don't you concern yourself with what's in front of you?" he said again with a question "But Daddy"-an echo with bass, follows "But, Daddy?" His words are not yelled out or said out of anger. They are confident, and overpowering, with each sentence, the instinct to reply becomes overwhelming to the point of overbearing. "You don't have to begin every sentence with, but Daddy."

 Daddy is quick with his words, to get a word in edgewise is an accomplishment that I had to achieve at this very moment in our discussion. I looked at him across the table and said "Daddy!!" I didn't yell(that would infuriate him),"Can I talk with you?". "Sure " he replied. "Go ahead" I stared him in the eyes as I told him "The reason I wanted more is because it's so good and I don't know if there is going to be any left" He looked at me with a laughter behind his words and said in the form of another question "What if you aren't hungry after you're done eating? How about we wait until you are done, and if you still want more, I'll get you more. Does that sound good to you?" "Yes, Daddy" I said, then he returns with "good, now wasn't that easier?" With a mouth full of food, I shook my head yes. In my mind I was thinking the same. "If he was referring to the fact he finally listened?", Yes I would have to agree. It was easier. So, I've come to the conclusion, that I have to be as persistent as Daddy is, when it comes to teaching him how to listen.  To me.

Letter Addressed To Heaven

                                                                                                                                     November 6, 2012


Dear Mommy,
       
    The most wonderful thing happened yesterday. It's the kind of event you would gather everyone you love and celebrate. It would be considered the party of the century. Barbara would be there with Lucinio and Sammi, the tears pouring from Barbara's eyes. Normally I would crack a joke, in hopes to change her mood, but those were tears of joy and you know, when it comes to those types of tears, the best thing to do is to let them flow. Ben would be there... wearing a smile from ear to ear, with his arm over my shoulders, telling me that he never had a doubt, while eyeing my friend Katie. Katie has done so much for the girls and I. Many holidays would not have been, if it  wasn't for her. She has shown me, not everyone gives for the sake of what they hope to gain in return. The Woodley's would be there, Dawn, Stephen, Leo, Skyler, and Mom. Mom is Stephens mother, Her and I partake in conversations you and I would engage in, if you were still alive. How I enjoy the talks we have. Dawn would be crying too. She's as emotional as any mother would be. Even more so, since witnessing most of the scenery on the road I had to endure to get to this point in my life. I know her sister Tina would be there to lean on. She is good peoples like that. Another family attending, that  I am grateful to call my family is The Johnson's. Kenny, Jackie, Lil' Kenny, and Julia. Kenny is my Baltimore brother, him and his family have created so many memories for the girls and I. Memories that will stay with us forever. Grandma and Grandpa would be there, Tia, Jason, Yahaira, her husband Robert, and Jose Raul, all the way from Puerto Rico. Tia and I spoke on the phone, not to long ago. We had the longest conversation I have ever had with her. It reminded me of all the years we missed out on family and despite all those years, I was shown family will reach out a lending hand in times of need.

There are others I didn't mention that will be there too. They, like everyone else, would get the chance to meet my guest of honor. The women who is responsible for all this. The women who deserves all the credit. The women who not only taught me right from wrong, but also showed me by example, how a women should treat herself and her children.... That women is you, Mommy. You would be by my side, as I introduce you to those who, Maritza, Alyssia, and myself, call family. The people who made it a little less unbearable to be so far away from home. We would all be there to celebrate. Celebrate the day I gained full and sole custody of  my two beautiful angels. That's right Mommy...full and sole custody of your grandchildren. I know you would of preferred it this way. Every child deserves to have their mother in their life, especially little girls. I tried all that I could, and learned in the process, you can't force someone to put another before themselves, to take responsibility, or to be a caretaker. The process was long, frustrating, and heartbreaking, but with all that you have shown me, I made it through. There were times when all I wanted was for you to be there, like the day I found the text that proved to me "the mother of my children" was cheating on me. I imagined you coming to Baltimore, packing her things, putting them on the porch, and telling her "If you didn't want a family, you shouldn't of opened your legs! You Gotsta Go!!, and don't worry about the girls, we'll take it from here" She would get the point and I wouldn't feel so helpless.

 Now I just want you here, to see what I have become and most importantly what Maritza and Alyssia have become.  They are my perfect little girls. I am grateful for the chance to raise my girls, everyday, in my image. Nothing in the world, gives me more pleasure, than hearing their voices, answering their questions, and holding them, in my arms. I could not fathom the thought of "weekend visitation" and "Part-time parenting", much like the thought of raising my girls without your guidance. When you passed away, you took with you, my advice and help center for raising children, my back-up memory banks of my life, and the best grandmother my girls could have ever had. I would give anything to have seen the expression on your face or to feel the embrace of your hug, when the judge granted me the ability to raise my girls, with less uncertainty and more clarity. Their lives are in my hand, Mommy. The way Barbara, Ben, and my life were in your hands. People I know ask me "how do you do it?" I look at them in the eyes and say "I don't really know how I'm doing it", as the conversation fades, I come to the same conclusion every time. You did not struggle to show us you loved us. You did not stumble over your words as you told us "I love you". You did not question your parenting skills, or doubt your intentions. You never made us feel like we were unwanted and not once have you ever implied or told us "you hated us" You loved us from the bottom of your heart to the height of your being. Life was difficult, yes, but loving your children was easy, second nature. It is because of that attitude and outlook on life, that reminds me of one thing from my childhood......."It doesn't matter how much money you have or what horrible situation you might be going through, all you really have is each other"

Thank you, Mommy. Thank you for showing me how to love, how to care, and how to cry. Thank you for making me different, making my girls the bud of everyone's compliments. Thank you for my childhood, my memories and my example to follow. Of all the things I thank you for , I now know on this day, the most important.....I want to thank you for showing me how to be a Mommy. I love you and I will write again soon.

                                                                                                        Missing you dearly,
                                                                                                                  Andy

Raising Us Is Not A Part Time Job.

November 12, 2012


 Wake up, bright and early, seven, eight, even nine, depending if our cousins, Leo or Skyler, wake up before we do. Aunt Dawn is usually up before we all are. She's the Mommy of the house. We don't quite understand or concern ourselves with, why our mommy isn't around, yet, but we do know what a mommy is.  Sort of like Daddy, except soft, gentle and squishy. Especially in the booby area. Daddy says "men don't have boobies, we have a chest." OK, Daddy, they're still boobies, just not as squishy. After we all wake up, it's time for breakfast. Aunt Dawn makes the breakfast and lunch, Daddy makes dinner. This is our normal routine. It changes from time to time, and that's OK. When we are done eating-it's upstairs to brush our teeth. Joined by Skyler (Leo on weekends) we scrub our teeth to a "Squeaky clean" Daddy says, as he rubs his finger along his front teeth, to prove to us they really do squeak. The same way you check if plastic is truly clean. Something random, Daddy taught us.

  "Learning time" as Daddy puts it, is a time period between the hours of 9am and lunch time. We sit in the living room and watch sprout, Nick Jr., or The Letter Factory. Daddy loves The Letter Factory. He says "If you can remember all the sounds the letters make, you are ready for me to teach you how to read" I think I'm ready. We love to watch TV with Daddy, and to tell you the truth, I think Daddy enjoys it more than we do. You should see him. Let's take Team Umizoomi for instance, when they asks us a question, Daddy pauses(He waits till the very last second, maybe it takes him that long to get the right answer) then he shouts out the correct answer, every time. He's really good at it. He has never been wrong, amazing, right?  Why wouldn't we want to be just like him? We are encouraged by this and answer along with him, whenever possible. Whether we get the question right or wrong, Daddy still cheers us on. Daddy's favorite line now a days, with his thumb in the air, is "GOOD JOB!" Alyssia picked up on it, and is now saying it to Daddy. Every time he does something for her, it's "Good Job Daddy" with her little thumb way up in the air.

 When the morning reaches the afternoon, we prepare for the day ahead. We put on our cloths, brush and style our hair, and sit in the dining room to eat lunch. Daddy usually sits at the table with us. He says eating meals with us is a sure fire way for us to observe and practice proper etiquette. "Respect, common sense, and logic" Daddy's favorite words. Our favorite words are, playtime, snacks, and lets go outside, just to name a few. If it's nice outside, we get to go play out front. Lately it has been too cold. No worry though, we have plenty of things to do. Coloring is one of our favorite. Sometimes, Daddy colors with us. His pictures look so beautiful when he's finished. I want to ask him "how do you color so perfectly in the lines?". Instead, I just take a peek.You can learn so much, just by observing. The same can be said for sitting back (preferably with Daddy) and watching a movie. Daddy doesn't seem to know what is going on in the movie, though. He always asks us "What's going on?","What just happened?", or "How do you think the main character feels, right now?". Aren't you paying attention, Daddy? Still, we are more than gladly to clue him in. We appreciate the time he spends with us, because most times he is either cleaning cloths, washing dishes, or cooking.Very busy man, our Daddy is. He rarely sits down. When he does, it's not for long.

 Dinner is served. The meal consist of a meat, starch, and vegetable. We have our drink after we're done, and a snack after that. This is the last we get to eat or drink for the day. Not to long after dinner, we partake in the ritual of cleaning our body and teeth. Everyday, Daddy is there, to help us with our daily routine and activities, and everyday we learn to do a little more, without his help. Keep in mind, we still manage to get Daddy to wipe our butts after we poop, despite our urge to be independent. Think about it. If you could have someone wipe your butt once in awhile-you would too. Who wouldn't? Just like, who wouldn't want to be played with, read to, tickled, kissed and tucked in before they were told goodnight, by the person they love most? It's the pinnacle of our day. We look forward to it and we wouldn't trade it for the world. Daddy always says "To end a day with a smile is to be truly blessed". Well Daddy, if you are the reason why we smile and the reason we end everyday, seeing your face......Then yes, Daddy. We are truly blessed.

Never Take It For Granted

October 23, 2012

Daddy wrote us a letter, again. He told us, whether we are together or apart we will always be in his heart and mind, forever. We love our Daddy. We tell him everyday and he tells us the same. I wonder if everyone is as fortunate as we are. Of course we can't read it yet, but that doesn't mean you can't read it for us, and for that we thank you.

To Maritza & Alyssia, my air, my mind (for without it, I could not live),

 The day is fast approaching, when we must leave this place. The place where you two were born and my life was given true meaning. You wont realize this until you read this letter, and by then it will just be a memory of a time when you were too young to remember. A time that will only be spoken of when we talk about the family we left behind. I wish we could take The Woodley's & The Johnson's with us. Come to think of it, we will. They have seen you's grow, they remember you as infants, and most of all, they have loved you as their own. I will always remind you of the family you have in Baltimore. I will always pay respects to the city that gave me my two princesses, my angels, my shining stars, even though I have been through more turmoil and disgust in the past three years in Baltimore, than all my twenty-seven years in New York City.

 In this day and age, most men don't raise their children or get the chance to raise their children, like I do. The fact is, most don't want to. For those that do, it becomes difficult for both the father and the children. The child begins to live in two worlds. The mothers (the majority of the time) and the fathers (one or two weekends, if he's fortunate). The mothers word in this world is law. I fear it everyday. Maybe, that's why I don't take for granted the privileges that I have, of being in you lives, day in and day out. Not a moment goes by that I forget my luxuries. The meals I prepare for you, I know what you don't like and which foods are your favorites. I cook like my mother, because I enjoy my little kitchen helpers by my side, and microwaving a dinner doesn't create moments, it takes them away. Luxuries like washing your cloths, from your pillow cases, to your socks, stuffed animals and blankets. I know which ones are yours, Maritza, and which ones belong to you, Alyssia. Luxuries like clipping your nails, brushing your teeth, and yes, even wiping your butts after you use the potty. Brushing your hair, giving you baths, and keeping you clean. I love putting lotion smiley, sad, angry, and surprised faces on the back of your hands, and the tops of your feet, right before the tickle monster comes after your dressed to go to sleep.  I enjoy and respect most importantly, educating, nurturing, and guiding you. My wisdom will become your knowledge.

  Sometimes Maritza & Alyssia, I can't help but feel this unexplainable feeling in the pit of my stomach. If I had to try. I would have to say, anxiety mixed with uncertainty, dipped in panic, rolled in torment, and baked in an oven of outrage. I worry that what we have wont last forever. That in an instant our situation will change and you will be taken away from me. Society can be cruel that way. I can lie and guarantee you the world and everything in it, but that's all it would be, a lie, if you are not raised by me, live with me, or enjoy life with me. The world has no idea what I am trying to establish. What I am trying to accomplish. Long before you will read, and fully understand this letter. You will understand, I am not working vigorously to keep you alive (that's simple). I am not struggling to guarantee your safety (that's a given). I am not frustrated on giving you my attention(that's easy). I am not skeptical of your future (what I do, while you are a child, is were my focus lies). You will understand, I am aware. I am coherent. Apprehensive of  my morals, creativity, compassion, inspiration, loyalty, curiosity, rationality, my emotions, my life, and my ability to process information. You will know this, my babies, my daughters, because I will instil this deep in your heart, mind, and soul. The world is a scary place, but so is the dark without a flashlight to shine the way.

 I will be your light, your guide, your strength. Your tissue to catch your tears, your pillow to rest your head. I will be your cheerleader on the sidelines, no matter the score. I will step back to let you fall, because falling helps you to learn, to pick yourself back up. I will commend your accomplishments and also your mistakes. I will be that ear you need to tell your story, that hug you need when you feel angry. I will be your father with a stern and confident position, and at times your friend, so you could understand any situation. I know that sometimes you wont like my decisions, but I hope these letters I write will help to ease your confusion. I don't know what the future holds and I don't care, because right now in my life I have two of the most beautiful, caring, loving girls that I have ever known. I look at my life and wonder, what I have done to receive the hell that life is serving me now, but then I look at my life with you two in it... and I got exactly what I deserved.
Thank you, my Daddy's little girls. I promise you I won't let you down.


 

Roll Models

October 23, 2012

 We have seen many people in our lives come and go, some we remember, most of them we don't. The only person that matters and never will be forgotten, is a person raising children and not spoiling them rotten. It's easy to give in and forget about discipline, where would that lead us, in this world that we live in. Full time, Part time or no time will be remembered by your children, when they are out of control, you're confused, because you can't think of a reason. Not concerned with a moment or a minute of their time, you think keeping them alive will do just fine. Attention is what any child on earth is out to seek, have you ever spoke with your child just to hear them speak? Their mind and their thoughts all come from you, don't ignore the slightest idea and pay attention to their view. Parents tend to think that a child can raise themselves, when all they look for is knowledge that you project from yourself. If the projection is baron the next step is the truth, a child will learn from someone even if its not you. When your child sounds foreign, peculiar, and bizarre, it's because you didn't think it was important to take it that far. Manners, politeness, well spoken, and clean, is definitely not something you can learn from the streets. We watch you and copy, whatever it might be, from your laziness, motivation, and everything that you eat. Confidence, insecurity, how strong, or how weak, the way you read to us, or don't, our bedtime stories. Your accomplishments, your triumphs, your blaze to glory, your downfall, your failures your incredible stories. Why do we mimic, copy, and repeat?, the fact that you're the parent is all the reason that we need. When we grow up and all you hear is praise, it says you did a great job raising your children that way. When all you here is negativity about how your child acts, it's because when they were young you would give them nothing to give back. A child is your sculpture you share with the world, whether it be strength in a boy or kindness in a girl. We see how easy it is to just give in, but wouldn't you drown if you weren't taught to swim? The world is watching, you wont realize until we're older, why we can't deal with all weight that rest on our shoulders. Ever wonder why a singer gives birth to a child that can sing, or a magician creates magic within they're offspring. An actor and attention, creating a life yearning fame, an athlete, a model, do it just the same. An intellect, a scientist create children who explore, how about an alcoholic, or an addict, need I say more. Now keep in mind there are those, an exceptional few. Who grow up and learn whatever their parents did, don't do. To the majority of us kids that want to be like our parents, don't set a bad example that would leave you embarrassed.  To those parents out there without a worry or a care., think of all the other parents that actually do care. You wont because that's you, and your child will be the same, nothing you could do when your child is too far and out of range. You lay fault and point blame never taking responsibility, it is that attitude you pass on intellect or stupidity. You will understand what has to be done, when it's much to late, it's easier to teach a child when they have a clean slate. So do what you can and so much more, depending on you we can be sweet, or rotten to the core.

They Call Them Eskimo Kisses

October 13, 2012


One month from now. The labels come off. I can not be accused of being a little girl. I will demand the respect given to Maritza. I will be a three year old. The change will take place now, I am aware of my sophistication, responsibility, and power. I've seen it, watched it, became a season ticket holder to the show that was my sister, Mrs Maritza Perez at age three, enough said. It's my turn. I have my hardships, right now with speaking. Difficulty saying my R's, L's, S's, and anything that starts with a C, K, or Q. It must be funny, though. I hear Daddy laugh sometimes. He says "It's cute, you struggle with the S and L, and they're in your name." Keep that sense of humor handy, for when we are plotting against you. Harmless playtime becomes plot-time. Maritza and I fully comprehensible to each other, turning "dealing with Daddy" into a science. I'm getting to that stage. Playing catch up with my big Sis is speeding the process. So when I does, sooner than later, its a wrap. .

 Nowadays, Maritza steals, well not steals my attention from Daddy, more like distracts him from, the sweet and precious, fierce and ferocious little girl who is.........Alyssia Perez. The second daughter. Everyone knows this, It's a fact. Another fact is,  I deserve the same amount, 50/50, right down the middle, treatment. I am happy to say, Daddy does an "alright" job dealing with Maritza not sharing. I mean treating us equally. Though, he seems to talk to her more than he does me. It's like a constant barrage of word after word, with them two. First Daddy, then Maritza. Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, then Maritza again (Daddy loves to talk). Still, he doesn't talk with me like that.  I stand on the sidelines. Listening to them "engage in conversation".  It must be great to share something special with Daddy.

 I thought about it all day. What do I and Daddy share between us? Everything he does with me, he does with Maritza. I was at the dinner table, with Maritza across from me. I couldn't get it out of my mind. Daddy gives Maritza a little more food on her plate, than on mine. OK , she's older. Besides that, nothing different. She has a fork, so do I. She has a spoon, again, so do I. We are done with dinner and a snack. It's off to the bathroom for a bath. I contemplate while Daddy puts shampoo and conditioner in Maritza's hair. He uses more for her because her hair is longer. Understandable. We use different toothpaste. I use the princess bubblegum flavored toothpaste, Maritza uses Daddy's mint toothpaste. I don't like the taste of mint. She does. Nothing special. We receive the same treatment....so was there nothing Him and I shared? I was at a lost. It was bedtime. I gave up my search. I climbed in to bed with a gloom that would beg Daddy to ask "What's wrong, Baby?" All the words and sentences rolling around in my head and "Nothing, Daddy" was said. Daddy replied with "It's OK, You tell me when your ready". He tucked me in then leaned in to kiss me. I grabbed both sides of his face, rubbed my nose back and forth against his nose and gave the sides of his face back. Nothing special, we do it all the time. Daddy went to Maritza, tucked her in, gave her a kiss and hug goodnight, and before he could pull away Maritza asked "What were you doing with, Alyssia?"
"Saying goodnight to her."
"No, the thing you were doing with your noses."
"Oh, they're called Eskimo kisses"
"Can you do that with me, Daddy?"
"Sure." 
Maritza smiled, that made me smile. When Daddy was done he came back to give me my goodnight hug. He smiled, kissed me on the cheek, gave me another Eskimo kiss(I know what they're called now), and said "I'm glad to see you smiling. Goodnight baby, I love you."
Goodnight, Daddy. I love you too....


I do share something special with Daddy after all. Go Team Alyssia!!!

When Did Politeness Become Funny?

September 26, 2012

 Laughter is what our Daddy calls "The key to eternal youth.", and we've seen Daddy Enjoy a good laugh. Maybe, that's the reason why he looks so young. (your welcome Daddy). He says "A day you haven't laughed is a day you haven't lived."  Daddy laugh's when he's happy, he laugh's when he's angry. They don't sound the same, but they're still a part of what you would consider, a reaction to something being "funny". Daddy has his chuckles of disbelief or amazement. The ones heard when we do something to make him proud or when we're trying to out wit him. Daddy has his few moments of loud roars of uncontrollable laughter, tear filled eyes, and lungs gasping for a break. Like when he's watching South Park or Family Guy, but usually it's when he's with our Titi Barbara or Tio Ben. It's simply incredible. When they get together and joke around, what joy and happiness. Like two best friends. It is truly a sight to see. Daddy also can't contain his laughter after seeing someone fall. We don't know what it is, that he finds so amusing. Pain is a joke? Sometimes he laughs when we fall. Not the serious ones, he comes running to check us from head to toe, for those. It's just the ones' that happen when we take his warnings for granted, like running in the house. He says it's better to laugh and pick yourself up, then it is to cry about it.. I still find it strange. Another situation I found peculiar, was the day Daddy laughed at a remark, purely intended to express my politeness.

Daddy was talking on the phone and he asked me if I would like to talk with Tio Ben.  At the same time, I was playing with the bikes and three wheelers down stairs, while Daddy was washing our cloths. We don't often get the chance to play downstairs on the count of Daddy's fear of us being down there unattended. I had to enjoy every minute I could. So, when Daddy asked me if I wanted to speak with Tio Ben, I told him in a sweet, calm, confident tone "I don't want to talk to him right now, Daddy. No thank you...."
After a live lesson of what a "hearty chuckle" looked and sounded like, Daddy relaxed and told Tio Ben what I said. He told me Tio Ben said "It's probably too early for her." I heard Daddy tell him "That's not the the reason why. The reason is because she doesn't want to give up her spot on this bike she had her eyes on, when she got down here".....
Daddy was right. He usually is. He likes to keep others well informed of the truth. I thought I was being very adult. Daddy did thank me for being so polite. He said the reason he laughed was because he didn't expect me to answer in such a way......Well Daddy, you should expect what you teach us to be used in our everyday lives, and I'm glad I could return the favor and make you laugh, for a change.

Fire-The Third Element

 September 26, 2012

Chapter 

1

 The Five classic elements. We hear about them all the time. Well, maybe not the fifth. We interact with them on a daily basis. It is apart of our lives. We could learn about them in school like most....or we could learn about them from our parents. In our case, from our Daddy. He says we can only enjoy them (like anything) in moderation.

Lets start with fire. Daddy has shown us fire. Fire, which helps us cook our meals together. We love it when Daddy asks us to help make the foods we eat. It gives us a sense of accomplishment and who wouldn't want to eat the food they prepared with their own two or six hands? He always reminds us to stay away from the flames and the hot surfaces it creates. He's very aggressive and assertive when he says this. Every single time we cook with him.

 On a less intense note, he has pointed out the warmth and calmness a fire can produce when we went to a friends house and Daddy let us sit in front of a fireplace. What a feeling. The heat was coming off the flames like magic. We were amazed how something so powerful could be confined in a box in the wall. Then something as dramatic as a dancing flame on a candle, can light up a room, to chase away the darkness.

 We would say we love fire, but we could remember when Daddy was driving around Dundalk following this tower of smoke. Daddy said it was created because a building had caught on fire. He wanted to see where. You would think this crazy of a man driving a minivan filled with three children(our sister Jazmine was with us at the time) but it wasn't. We finally found the source of the pillar of smoke. Daddy said it was the old Seagram's plant on Sollers Point Road, where they bottled soda. Daddy pulled over where the police block was put up. He parked and escorted us out. We were a safe distance away. We couldn't feel the heat, but we could see the flames bellowing out of the building.Creating black and gray smoke that shot up to the sky. It was truly a marvel to witness. We asked him, "Why did the building catch fire?". He said he didn't know. Then, we asked him "What were the firemen were doing?". He said "Trying to control the fire and put it out.". "Is the fire out of control?" we asked. He said "Not yet, but if the firemen don't extinguish the flames, the houses near by might catch fire. People live in those houses and they don't want to lose their homes." We watched for sometime as the firemen used water hoses to put out the flames. It wasn't as wonderful to see the flames this time. It was scary to the point Daddy said we had to leave, just in case the fire spread. We went to the van, got in, and drove away.

 Later that day Daddy told us the Firefighters beat the fire. No one was hurt and the houses around the old Seagram's building were untouched. Thank you, Firefighters. What an experience. Fire is truly a force to be reckoned with. Daddy says "You shouldn't play with fire because it doesn't play with you, It does exactly what its supposed to do. Burn and destroy. You should respect it.". We are grateful for the knowledge of new things. Daddy can see it in our eyes. He taught us something else you might find interesting. He said "The five elements are associated with the five senses, and act as the gross medium for the experience of sensations.  fire is the third highest on the list. It can be heard, felt and seen." That must be the reason Daddy always says "don't touch", and come to think of it, fire doesn't have a smell, only the object that is on fire does. Clever Daddy. Your the best.