Father's Day

Tomorrow some of us will make a last minute run to the pharmacy, grab a quick card, scribble a few choice words down, and take an obligatory trip to our father's house; some of us will face tomorrow with a chip on our shoulder, stating "I celebrate my moms on father's day"; some of us will relish in being the father we never had or in being the man our father's raised us to be; while others will take the day to reflect on the father that is no longer physically with them.  No matter which category you fit into, tomorrow is Father's Day.

Here in Puerto Rico, my grandmother and her neighbor traditionally recognize Father's Day today.  My neighbor pays homage to her husband as well as my step-grandfather by placing a bouquet of fresh flowers  at their graves every year.  She also comes equipped with a broom and dustpan, ready to clean and make everything pretty.  This tradition is not something I've ever been apart of, so I tagged along as a visitor.  Quietly watching and following Mama's lead.  But, upon arrival, we split ways with the neighbor.  The neighbor made it a point to note that perhaps my grandmother and I should head over to Papa's grave and have our alone time while she fixed up her husband's grave.  Already, my presence has broken tradition.  Again, I just quietly followed.  Giving no opinion.  I was there to accompany Mama, to reflect on the life of a man who to this day continues to touch me and to give prayerful thanks for his presence in our family. So, we walked over, replaced old fake flowers with new ones and just sat there.  At first it was awkward (as grave sites usually are), but then, I started hearing music...English music.  Upon further investigation, I realized it was coming from  my purse.  It was a song I had bookmarked on my phone a few months ago.  Initially the thought was to shut it down right away, but then I heard "Cuz IIIII love the way you call me baby, and youuuuu take me the way I am" and at that moment a peace came over me and I just let it play.  I let it play to celebrate Papa.

The man he was to me and the man he was to many.  That is just what Papa did.  He took everyone the way they were.  He just loved.  And without a shadow of a doubt, no matter what, he had the uncanny ability to make me feel like he just loved me...for being 'Michie'.  Once the song finished Mama and I found ourselves clapping and again sitting in silence.  Then, I spoke my thoughts:

Me: "You know Mama, Papa is the only grandfather I've ever known."
Mama: "Really?"
Me: "Yeah and you know what else?  I didn't know he wasn't my blood grandfather until I was a teenager. I remember one day we were driving up to your house and I saw that the mailbox said 'Vazquez' and I asked Papi why is Papa's name Vazquez if our name is Gonzalez...and that's when he explained that while he considers Papa his father, technically he's not his biological father."
Mama (with a surprised look on her face): "Yes, that's right."
Me: "I was so surprised because I had never felt like he WASN'T my Papa.  He was always so loving and so wonderful to me."
Mama: "Yes, that's how he was.  He knew that if he married a woman, he married her children and that was it.  He treated my sons like his own and my grandchildren, naturally, were his.  In fact, he found out he had a daughter that he never met.  We went to California twice looking for her because he had heard that's where she lived."
Me: "Did he have any information?"
Mama: "No, he just knew she lived in California and that was it.  We went twice but never found her."

We fell into silence again and I was left alone with my thoughts.  It's hard to come to this realization, but after spending the past 6 months with my grandmother, I am certain that Papa played a huge role in maintaining whatever relationship we (the Gonzalez kids) had with them.  Every year growing up, we could each count on a card coming from them with a few dollars included.  That was Papa.  Whenever we came to Puerto Rico to visit, Papa served as the spokesperson for the household.  He would tell me "There's my beautiful Michie!  Come give Papa a kiss.  I love you so much.  What would you like?  Anything that is here, in this store you can have, just tell Papa ok?"  The coldness I could never understand from my grandmother was always superseded by the immense warmth and true love my grandfather showed me.  Family was important to him and somehow, God placed him right in the arms of a woman who acts like family is something she can do with or without.  He, along with my maternal grandmother, Mama Celina (may she rest in peace), were key in laying the groundwork for the household I was so blessed to grow up in and for the way our family still operates to this day.  So, I continued to sit and give my thanks for a man who technically owed me nothing but somehow gave me so much.  I prayed for the daughter he never found and even thought about trying to find her myself one day soon.  I think anyone who didn't grow up with their father would appreciate hearing that he searched for them, he thought of them and although he never met them, loved them as if he did.

Papa's new flowers!

My thoughts were eventually interrupted by the neighbor, coming to sweep and clean Papa's tomb.  As she cleaned she chatted away, with her own fond memories of Papa.  Then, she broke my heart.  While sweeping and talking sweetly to his tomb, she stops, turns to me and says "Did you know him?"   .  How does one respond to such a ridiculous question?  I was so confused and so offended.  This woman, who has lived next door to my grandmother for over 30 years, who essentially gave her son to my grandparents to raise, is now looking at me as if I'm some second removed cousin or something and asking me if I knew him!  It was rude, it was hurtful and it was uncalled for.  I responded by saying  "Of course I knew him, he was my grandfather.  We went to Canada together, he would come to New York all the time to visit and I would come here to visit with everyone."  She gave me a quick "Ah." and then felt the need to tell stories of her own kids relationship with him.  As I sit here and type, I am still confused.  I am still hurt.  I know my presence here has been difficult for her.  As my grandma and I's relationship has flourished, she has taken more of a backseat.  I have not pushed her there though.  I  try to include her and she declines (often rudely).  At times it feels like she's in some sort of competition to get Mama to eat HER food, to get Mama to remember things she did with HER kids, to talk about past times that I know nothing about because I was living in New York.  It's been an interesting line I've been riding these last few months.  An exercise in patience and showing love even when you may not want to.  Today, though, was a whole other level.  For her to say that to me, made me feel like she was trying to undermine and belittle my role in this family.  To almost say "listen chick, you're a new jack here so stay in your place".

The ride home was quiet.  I was still mulling over my feelings and trying to figure out what to do.  If this conversation were in English I would have without a doubt addressed it.  But, because she really doesn't understand English, I would have to address it diplomatically, respectfully and clearly in Spanish...something I know I would be unable to do with the amount of emotion I have running through me.  The neighbor interrupts my thoughts by saying "Why is Michelle so quiet, is she upset?"  Before I have a chance to answer, my grandmother recounts our conversation.  Attributing my quietness to realizing how important Papa was to me based on how well he treated me.  The neighbor agrees he was a great man and of course, once again, brings up her stories of how well he treated her and her kids "are like his grandchildren."  I couldn't take one more second in the car, as soon as we parked I walked to the house, walked into the bathroom and just cried.  I cried all my frustration this entire Puerto Rico experience has placed on me, I cried for missing Papa's funeral, I cried for Papa and I cried out those haunting feelings that no matter how hard I try, I will never make up for the years I wasn't here.  Today was a challenge.  Tomorrow will be better.

Radio Roots Revisited

It was surreal.  Truly surreal.  There I was, walking into the control room of a radio station...slightly envying the producer behind the board...stopping myself from blurting out "So what program do you guys use?  It doesn't look like Prophet nor any other program I've used before.  Do you have drops? What music do you use as filler?  Is it touch screen?"  Its felt like a lifetime since I've been in the studio of a radio station (save the quick visit to Colb in Ohio in November - what up Colby?!).  It was definitely a different experience though, because instead of the whiney baby rhymes of Nikki or Drake, there were opera like religious tunes playing in my headphones.  Yeah, you read that right LOL now let me start from the beginning.  Remember the wedding that I went to with Mama (where we killed the photo booth with our gangsta picture reel)?  Well, that day I was introduced to a woman who has her own afternoon program on a local Christian radio station.  My neighbor, knowing my background in Communications, made it a point to connect us stating "You never know what it could lead to!" and boy, was she right.

Annie, the radio woman, and I immediately connected!  She told me she started off as a secretary at the station and one day management recognized that she had a wonderful voice.  They especially loved her clear pronunciation.  She went on to give me a mini lesson in phonetics and diaphragm breathing (yes all in Spanish, yes in the middle of the wedding, and yes my life is a sitcom).  We exchanged numbers and she offered to tutor me on phonetics, pronunciation and anything else I may be interested in.  She also made a point to introduce me to her daughter who studied Television Production and seems to have interned or worked at just about every network this side of the island.

Annie in action

Before I knew it, Thursday had arrived and it was time for yet another cooking class...which happens to be steps from the radio station that Annie works at.  So, I gave her a call, and next thing I knew I was salivating at the sight of sound boards, microphones, and headphones.  It was a great feeling because I no longer have expectations or put ridiculous unnecessary stress on myself.  In the past, my immediate thoughts from the moment I entered the station would have been: What's my angle?  What am I trying to get out of this? Who do I need to talk to for a job around here? But as quickly as those thoughts came, I pushed them out.   Being there was enough of a blessing.  I am here to see what I've been placed here to do.  So, there was a calm over me, a peace that I really enjoyed relishing in.  By the end of the third talk break Annie was asking me to give her a few quick notes about me and my background.  By the fourth talk break she was signaling for me to have a seat and throw on some headphones.

Me tryna be slick with the camera phone LOL

Then, I got interviewed.  In Puerto Rico.  In Spanish.  I told my story.   In SPANISH.  Why I'm here, what I did before I got here, what being in Puerto Rico means to me, what the language means to me...which lead to what my grandmother means to me (which of course led to me crying for the first time in my life on air).  Was it perfect Spanish?  I'm almost positive it wasn't, but it didn't matter...it was AMAZING!  That was probably a bucket list item that I didn't even know I should have had until after I did it.  Once we got off the air she told me she could always use volunteers to help her with the phone.  I told her I had no problem with that and since I take that cooking class every Thursday we can designate Thursdays as our days together.  Then, she gave me a homework assignment.  I'm to practice the phonetic exercise she demonstrated the day of the wedding, I'm also to read the newspaper out loud daily and practice my diaphragm breathing...all in front of the mirror.  I assured her I would, took my 'homework' notes, and prepared to head out the door...then she dropped the bomb on me as she said "I sure hope you do practice because I'm going to have you do some reading on the air next week."  Pray for me!!!!!!

I had to try to get a shot of myself behind the mic again woo!

A wedding, an eye exam, and a life without rice or bread...

Mama getting her hair dyed!

Beautiful Wedding

Alright so I got to go to my first wedding here in Puerto Rico!  At first, Mama wasn't going to go but I after she saw how excited I was and after I told her we could dress up and get our hair done and yada yada, she was sold.  So, we started preparing for this glorious event weeks ahead of time.  Really, we started preparing Mama...meaning we had to get her a dress, accessories, hair, nails (luckily I'm her resident manicurist), shoes, etc.  She looked so beautiful!  And we got really lucky with a last minute trip to Marshall's the day of the wedding and found a little pocketbook that matched her dress exactly!  She was very excited.  So excited in fact, she didn't eat anything before we left.  She had breakfast, but that wasn't sufficient..especially because the wedding ended up being 2 hours away and while we were on time the wedding wasn't.  So, we were forced to stand out in the Puerto Rican heat for way longer than we should have.  That, unfortunately, resulted in Mama damn near passing out!  It was without a doubt one of the scarier things I`'ve experienced.  One minute she's resting on my shoulder, next she says she feels dizzy and then just starts to go down.  Luckily there were plenty of men around willing to lend a helping hand.  Thank God she did not injure herself and within a half hour was fine.  I took away some lessons from that situation and I do believe she did too.  I've tried to allow Mama to maintain her independence and I don't try to push her too much when we disagree but she now knows that there are some things that aren't negotiable...doctor visits and now, food.

LOVED the photo booth!

My favorite of the 4!

Speaking of food, I am now on a 'diet'.  Let’s have a moment of silence.  Ok, so anyone who knows me knows I don't diet.  I try to pick healthier food options, I don't eat beef or pork, but diet?!  Me?!  It's pretty hard.  Bread is my bestie and cheese is yet another great friend of mine.  Well, Friday afternoon, that all came to an end when I had my first appointment with a Naturalist.  My mom had gone to see this doctor with my aunt a few years ago and she came back raving about how on point he was with his diagnosis.  She also said she thought I'd really like him because he prescribes natural products (if you need them) and he aims to improve your health through healthier eating habits.  

Couldn't eat it but I heard it was delish!

So, upon my arrival to Puerto Rico, I asked my aunt to please make us an appointment.  Mom had warned me that appointments are made months in advance so I definitely wanted to get my foot in the door as soon as possible.  Finally, June came and it was time to see Dr. Gonzalez (no, really, he is Dr. Gonzalez and I don't believe there's any relation...but ya never know)!  The thing about this doctor is he uses a method called Iridologia.  Basically he takes a close up picture of each of your eyes and through your iris, he diagnosis you.  It may sound crazy, but my mom went and didn't tell him a thing before he looked at her eyes.  She walked out of there amazed.  He found all that she had been dealing with JUST THROUGH HER IRIS.  

Iris

Anywhoo, I walk in there and he asks me what brought me in to see him.  I found myself caught off guard because really, at the time I made the appointment, I just wanted to see what he was all about.  But, by the time I was sitting there in his chair, I realized that I had been battling with some skin issues.  The adjustment to the Puerto Rican weather has not been kind on my skin and come to think of it, my complexion was going through changes well before I got out here.  So, I went with "my skin".  We chatted a bit and then he set me up to take my photos.  By the time I walked out of there, I had a new face soap, a daily regiment of dietary supplements, face creams, a request for a thyroid exam (in two months) and a very strict diet (also for the next two months). According to Dr. Gonzalez, I am overdoing it on the bread and cheese.  I am eating a lot of starches that are filling my face with grease (hence the breakouts).  He also says I have low blood sugar because I'm eating the wrong kind of food that's not releasing the insulin I need into my body and so I'm craving sugar and continuing to snack on and eat things that contribute to the bad sugar rather than the good sugar (and so continues the vicious cycle).  My iris also told him that I’m stressed (unemployed and still struggling with the language will do that lol). 

My aunt was shocked because in her mind I eat great, I exercise and I’m not overweight.  I kinda was too, I mean those are the measures that many people diagnose themselves…as long as the exterior is ok, the interior is fine.   But, this exam went to show, that may not always be true.  Our bodies speak to us, they let us know that something is up, and usually with time.  It starts out small and we try to ignore it until it becomes something big and we can no longer ignore that a change is necessary.   I knew something was up because my skin never seemed to be able to maintain a clear complexion but I thought I could fix it with lots of water and continuing to try product after product…no dice. Therefore, I am determined to follow the doc’s instructions to a tee.  Worst case scenario, it doesn’t work and I learn how to eat without meat, bread, seafood, rice, corn, etc.  (yeah, that’s just a piece of some of my favorite things the list of things I can’t eat for the next two months)!  Best case scenario, it does work, I finally get GREAT skin and I also learn how to eat (and cook) new, interesting, delicious things that are also very good for my health.   Want to know the most interesting thing?!  I’m ALREADY taking cooking classes that are teaching me how to eat in the way the doctor just mandated me to eat (see last post).  God is so good!  I don’t know what he has planned for me but I think it’s very interesting that I was already in “training” for this new challenge before I even knew what the challenge was!

Morning supplements (yes, 9)

Now, saying you have a laundry list of things you can’t eat is one thing.  Saying your going to stick to the list is one thing.  But, waking up the next morning really hungry and actually figuring out how to stick to this new diet...that’s a whole other thing!  I literally wracked my brain for about an hour on Saturday.  What can I eat that will be appealing…fruits only isn’t going to cut it.  I don’t want this to feel like a jail sentence but when you can’t eat anything made with corn, wheat or regular flour, no eggs, no cheese, no meat, no almonds…its like come on!  So, I whipped out the book Dr. Gonzalez gave me (outlining what I can and can’t eat) determined to make something work.  The result?  Oatmeal with almond milk (yep can’t eat almonds but can have almond milk), a tablespoon of brown sugar, ½ a tablespoon of Agave Nectar, and a freshly chopped apple.  I let that simmer and when it was ready drizzled it with a bit more Agave and fresh apple slices.  Delish!  A majority of my diet calls for apples, potatoes and other root veggies so I was very proud of my breakfast!  For Linner (Lunch/Dinner Mama and I love so much) I made my famous Quinoa salad and heated up some chicken for Mama.  She boiled some ñame (a potato cousin) and I made a nice salad.  Successful day 1!  The only drawback is that 2 of the pills the doc prescribed have a horrible odor/taste.  It has definitely taken some getting use to.

Mmmm breakfast!

The wedding was also pretty tough, but luckily they had a vegetarian lasagna and a salad available (although I couldn’t eat the pasta or the eggplant).  I know what you’re thinking…Mish, this is extreme.  Believe me, my dad feels the same way, but there is a medley of things I CAN eat, the problem is they aren’t generally offered in restaurants out here….which means more cooking at home, more money saved, and more recipes mastered!  You connecting the dots for why I’m not so bummed about this?!  The only thing that I’m really concerned about is that in just a few short weeks I’ll be back in New York visiting Mom.  Mom is my master chef.  Mom’s BBQ’s are legendary.  I can’t eat a majority of the things Mom is famous for and she can’t make some of my favorite dishes!  I also have to revise my list of restaurants I had all ready to visit upon my return.  Good news is I believe Ethiopian, Thai and maybe even Indian is all still possible mmmmm I can’t wait!