Puerto Rico/New York - Day 12/Day 1

¡Feliz Navidad!  My Christmas started with “Get up girl, you’re late!” as Titi Annie threw open my bedroom door.  I jumped up with one eye open and immediately reached for my phone.  My Blackberry read 3:40am.  I thought I set my alarm for 3am when I laid down at 2:30am.  I guess that was my first problem…probably should have just stayed up but it was becoming impossible.  My flight was at 5:30am, which meant they start boarding at 5:15am.  The airport is about 45 minutes from my aunt’s house and I needed to return my rental car as well as check my bag.  So, we estimated that I should be at around 4:15am, which meant I should technically be on my way to the airport by 3:15am so that I can give myself time to stop for gas, traffic, etc.  Again, my phone read 3:40am!  But luckily I was fully packed, my clothes were ready and I had showered just before I laid down.  All I needed to do was brush my teeth, slick my hair back and slip into my clothes.  I was on a very dark Puerto Rican back road headed for Interstate 100 by 3:50am.  Then, I played the line between booking it and playing it easy.  There was no way I wanted to gamble getting pulled over on my way to the airport but there was also no way I was going to do the speed limit.  I knew I had a few key factors that still made it possible for me to make that 5:15 possible:

1.     You treat red lights like stop signs in Puerto Rico after a certain time…I think its 1am.

2.     There’s usually not much traffic at 4am

3.      No weather issues

4.      I had enough gas to get me to the airport and if worse came to worse I would take the hit for not having the car refueled if it meant getting to NY

5.      That 5am flight isn’t always on time

6.      I had checked in online so all I needed to do was drop my bag

7.      Returning the car simply meant dropping a key off

So initially it looked a little sketchy but by 4:30am I knew I’d be there at the very worst by 5am.  So, I took a gamble and stopped at a very well lit gas station close to the airport.  I put $20 in the tank and prayed that was enough as that was all I had left in cash.  It was and before I knew it I was on my way.  Then, raindrops started hitting my windshield and a cop car jumped in front of mine…going 5 mph (ok I’m exaggerating maybe 10mph)!  I just calmed down, took the stroll in the rain and reminded myself I’d be just fine. 

Sure enough, by 5:15 I was waiting to board the plane and observing a 3 year old with a huge black and purple knot on his head, a teenager for a mom who obviously had no control over him, and a (from what I can detect) a grandfather who has about a splinter more control over this unruly child.  It’s now raining steadily so we have to walk briskly into the plane as to avoid getting wet.  I walk to my seat and see the teen mom and clearly hear the screams of the three year old and what do ya know…I’m sitting right behind them!  Before we could take off I snuck off into the back row.  There must have been about 5 children on that flight…all different ages, very whiney and full of screams/cries/complaints.  So, I laid myself across the 3 seats, threw my iPod on tried to get as much rest as I could.  Before I knew it our less than festive flight attendant was mumbling that we should prepare for landing and informing us as to where we can retrieve our luggage.  I got my first “Merry Christmas” as I exited the plane and prepared myself for cold temperatures but fun times with my family.  

It had only been about 10 days but it honestly felt like a month since I’d been in New York City.  Christmas at home was different.  There was a family party that night at my parent’s home so even though I walked into the house at around 10am, the house was already buzzing with activity.  It seemed to be busy, serious activity though.  Not light or festive activity.  It just didn’t feel like Christmas.   I felt like it was partly my fault.  See, I had come up with the idea to have people over that night and now it seemed to be blowing up in my face.  It felt like I put a burden on my parents and I kinda ruined Christmas. 

Originally, I envisioned getting off the plane and my mom and little brother picking me up and heading to my big brothers house to open gifts with the kids.  Then, I figured we’d spend a few hours there and head back to the house and get ready for the party that evening.  But, my dad ended up getting the day off so he picked me up and at the point my mom was in clean/party hosting mode so she had no intentions of going anywhere.   So, I opted for vision number two which was us having Christmas breakfast, opening gifts together and jamming to our favorite Motown Christmas CD like we have for the last 10+ Christmas mornings.  Instead of mom cooking though, I did.  I scrambled some egg whites up and threw together some toast.  My mom then jumped in and made some coffee and then lil bro set the table.  My dad reluctantly sat down with us while I made sure our favorite CD was in full swing.  We were gonna have Christmas damnit!  Breakfast went well, but as soon as it was done it was like back to the hustle and bustle.  I’m sure I was just being extra sensitive but I just didn’t know what to do with myself.  I just wanted to relax with my family and it seemed that was the last thing that was going to happen.  I’m sure I was tired and jet lagged, but I just felt like everything was changing so much and I no longer felt at home.  What is going on? I wondered.  I decided to sit outside before unnecessarily picking an argument with any one of them in the house.  Our dog Chico followed me out and almost as if he knew I needed company, he dutifully stayed hovered around me as I sat on the steps and let the tears stream from my face.   What’s going on Michelle? I don’t know, but I don’t like the feeling I’m getting.  It’s Christmas!!  We’re supposed to be warm and fuzzy and Hallmarkish at all times and that is not what I’m feeling!!!!  Then my phone rang.  It was my dad. 

Pa: “Hey where are you little girl?”

Me: “Outside with Chico, what’s up.”

Pa: “Oh well come on in, we’re opening presents.”

Me:  “Ok.”

I slipped into the basement bathroom and did my best to cover up any signs of the breakdown I had just had.  I doubt I did a good job but at least everyone acted like they didn’t see a thing…at least not until I opened one of two sentimental gifts (an eyes bracelet and charm chain) from my mom.  I cracked as soon as I read that what the eyes bracelet meant.  The eyes are supposed to signify a watchful and protective eye.  To me, it was yet another vote of encouragement from her to continue on my endeavors but a reminder that she was still there should I need her.   Then there was the ‘daughter, mother, friend’ chain.  She wanted me to know that I was more than her daughter now, I was also her friend.  The tears continued to fall as my mom took a seat next to me and my dad asked “what’s going on little girl?”  See, we’re not like an extra mushy, talk-about-our-feelings-all-the-time-kinda-folk so I think they were a little thrown off.  All I could get out was “Everything is changing…” My mom said “Is that good or bad?”  I said “Good.”

Come on folks, squeeze into the kitchen!

Cousins and my momma!

I heart these Berrocal women!

But to be honest, I’m not too sure.  I’m praying all of this change in our family is a good thing, but we’re venturing into unchartered territories, just trying to navigate this as best we could.  Robert is headed to the Air Force, I'm headed to Puerto Rico and my parents are beginning a new chapter in their marriage (I like to call it Post Kids rather than Empty Nest).  I believe if we stick together though, we’ll be just fine.  We just need to stick together and together doesn’t always mean physically being with each other, its about keeping the communication lines open…its about leaning on each other for support…its about Paciencia y Fe…

Sticking together...