Woke up this morning in deep thought. I have been dealing with certain things for a couple of weeks and it has not only showed me the importance of people it has also put me in a place where I myself, the man, the kid has stood within and found parts of me even more. My mother to me is everything in my life. in our journey vulnerable. No one has ever embraced me unconditionally like my mother. Was she tough- YES! Was she her own person and did shit her way- FUCK YEAH! Did she make all the best decisions at all time- NO! Pero es mi madre. She gave me and my siblings anything and everything the only way she knew how and it was with a strong back hand and hard work. A little lady raising 2 boys, losing 2 daughters in her lifetime and raising a grandson can never be easy. Don’t care what anyone tells me this would kill the usual and mommy rose, fell, rose again and lived.
I started to write the personal essay on her and it got so damn real I had to stop and just breathe. Mommy I understand your choices. I understand why you did what you did! Having you live with me has let me understand that the choices you made when my siblings and I were growing up were done on what you knew. You absolutely had no love growing up. Once your mother passed away you was a burden. You were passed around to relatives and strangers hands for money and to not have to be seen. You had no one in your corner. You literally lived day to day. You were constantly on guard because men at an early age showed you they were not nice at all. You never learned to trust. I now understand why growing up it was rare for you to have friends and actually kept people at arms length. I can’t imagine your fear being so young arriving to Nueva York. Focused on making a life for yourself and vowing never to step foot in Puerto Rico. I totally get why Bacardi was your best friend. Through all that you managed to not only get a job but have your own respectable little business as a seamstress. You were beyond good. You managed to support 2 generations on your back solita. I never heard you complain. I never saw your tears when your back was against the wall.
I know you came from the era where tragedy was stuffed deep down so as not to affect you, placed somewhere where it’s forgotten. Actually to a point where it never happened. In a weird way I say thank you mi viejita. Though there are so many things of my childhood that were not good, there are so many shortcomings that I can dwell on I can say in all sincerity that you did THE BEST with what you knew and how to.
I came out a strong man, independent , hard working, responsible. Taking in how with no education at all you made a dollar out of nothing helps me continue on my path. I can accomplish it with no excuses. Thank you. Te amo mucho viejita.