Wednesday, June 24, 2015

smells like 7-teen spirit

So there I was sportin, an over-sized white t-shirt under a men's flannel, accessorized with a grayish, somewhat abused Sony walkman that was bumping a mixed tape of Nirvana, Jane's Addiction, and a lil G-N-R. Like a displeased teen, my ears were hiding behind those old school earphones... the kind with the orange spongy covers. The ominous weather attempting to produce the first fall storm of the season, contributed to my angst mood. I peeked through the mini-blinds while my belly rested on my stereo. I then threw on my navy blue stretch pants and lifted the elastic waste over my ready to pop belly. Spent the in-betweens hunched over with clutched fist. I was able to find some respite and took advantage of the moment to throw on my white vans. Mom and Papa had already begun their day at work and like most employees, were all up on their TGIFing.

Finally, the piece of junk, hatched backed with balding tires pulled up in front of my house but I was not anxious to become the life flash before your eyes, pray to God you make it in one piece, hold on to your belly for dear life, passenger. The dingy, washed too many times, sprinkled with bleach spots hoodie camouflaged the driver dude's mug. He was rubbing his hands together, blowing hot air into them, attempting to stay warm. I opened the door and my vivacious, cheery "hey" was returned with a equally enthused "hey" and a quick flick of the head up and back "'sup". The driver dude's response was just as pretentious as my greeting.

The shut of the passenger door was mistaken for the drop of flags at Nascar or some heavily anticipated signal for a track meet. Driver dude was hella impatient and irritated he had to wait in the car. He raced through the streets of Los Angeles on a Friday October drizzling morning. We zipped through houses embellished with Halloween decorations that seen one too many Halloween's and the drizzle that was hitting them supported their last 'Halloween Hurrah'. Under the driver dude's breath you could almost hear his thoughts... "Why in the hell do we have to come all the way to L.A?", "Couldn't she have picked a doctor that is more convenient for me (driver)"? I pretended I was on my way to a Dodger game and OUCH!!! Another kick in the ass, knock you out, poke your eye balls out pain. More clutching, more squeezing of my face. My driver looked over at me balled up in pain that appeared to be vexatious rather than concerning... WTH! So he picked up the speed on the already accelerated journey and gunned it.

As we're bumping along, slippin' and sliding through the poorly neglected streets of L.A., a much welcomed Green Day song starts blaring from the radio. I start mouthing the words, "Do you have the time, to listen to me..." Oh snap! Diver dude hated that song and pushes the silver coated buttons and landed the radio on a Queen song from the movie 'Wayne's World'. The rest of the ride was followed with an uncomfortable silence. Leave it to me to turn what should be a Hallmark moment into a become a creative, click of your heels 3 times and wish you were anywhere but in this wreck of a car and equally wreck of a driver, moment.

The whole ride over to the White Memorial, I fell into deep thoughts of the Cobain's and how only a month before were in the same scenario as me. Francis Bean Cobain would be the same age as my Michael. I even thought about the times Papa would bring me to the Dodger games. Random thoughts were flooding my mind. Geez another pow to the brakes as yellow changed to red. This fool was making me so nauseous. Finally we arrived at Dr. Yamishrio's office. Blood would rush to my face as that man leaned in closely to hear my heart beat. I believe my beat would boom boom a little quicker as my eyes fixed themselves onto the thick wristed well manicured hand that followed my beats. Lord, this man was handsome. Whoa! I could feel the heavy gaze of the driver dude trying to burn a hole on the side of my head with his eyes. Son of a bitch... OUCH! Another kick in the ass pain. As my doc lifted himself from down south, he said "We need to get you over to the hospital right now". He even walked me over. He insisted I sit in a wheelchair. "No way, I'll walk". A wheelchair at that moment symbolized the final moments of surrendering and withdrawing to God's natural creation of life and I wasn't ready to surrender.

I reluctantly stripped off my grunged out make-shift maternity clothes and into the backless hospital gown. Holy mother of God... this pain is the worst. I laid on my side gripping the rail of my bed anticipating the next round of pain. Man I felt like a wounded horse waiting to be put to death. During the respite I glanced over and realized the driver dude was in the room, slouched in Vato mode position, trying to find comfort in the dated hospital chair, impatient as hell, and asking my crush how much longer. Thanks a heap driver dude! I had other issues to worry about rather than him being so pressed for time. The thought of both families... the Montague's and Capulet's waiting in the lobby created total awkwardness that began to stress me out.

Anxious and a complete wreck, OUCH! Here comes another one. I began to cry out to my doctor, " I can't do this". Dr. Yamishiro yelled out "lets get mom ready for a C-section". He calmly said to me "Honey, you got a baby with some line backer shoulders, too large for your little body and we're gonna have to cut..." "WHAT"?!? CUT!! It was as if driver dude came to a screeching halt with his lead foot on the brakes. Those frightful words gave my body that last great push and BAM... Michael Christopher was born October 23, 1992 at 5:30pm. Everyone rushed to gush over him. I laid back took a deep breath and was on my way to dreamland. I could feel my eyes rolling back, the site before me turned to tunnel vision. "Honey, honey, wake up... Sweetie, wake up... Mom wake up". The heavy Asian accent grew closer and I opened my eyes. When I came to, I asked the nurse, "What are you doing"? She explained I had fainted. Apparently, the abnormal loss of blood and fever was the result of me fainting and this added to my extended hospital stay.

Loved ones packed my room like a typical Mexican family and I became transfixed on their heavily soaked jackets and asked them why they were so wet. They explained there was a heavy storm outside. A rainy evening completed the mood for a late October night and this pleasant thought brought me some comfort and I slipped back into dreamland. I awoke about 12:30am to my son and his nurse... "Mom, come meet your baby". I excitedly sat up as the precious jewel was being handed to me. As if the future King of England was born after many years of queens having been born. I must have stared at him in my arms for hours memorizing every feature, trying to find hints of me in his heavenly face. I forced my index finger into his tiny chubby hand and watched his chest rise and fall as we breathed in sync.

Shed a tear cuz I'm missin you
I'm still alright to smile
Girl I think about you everyday now
was a time when I wasn't sure but you set my mind at ease
there is no doubt you're in my heart now
said woman take it slow it work itself out fine
all we need is just a little patience

This familiar song took me back to a place hidden in my school girl memories. A time when I was fresh out of an all girls Catholic School. The tall, young driver, filled with charm picked me up from my parents house. Ironically, I was peeking through the mini-blinds and my slender well shaped youthful waist was pressed up against my stereo. He rang the doorbell and I opened the door wearing my stonewashed Paris Blues with a mid-riff, over sized, white sweater that fell to one side, leaving my shoulder exposed. He was wearing a baseball cap... backwards. Show me a backwards baseball cap and I would melt into a love mess. This is a juvenile secret that no longer has purpose but every now and then is gladly welcomed. Sometimes it is shared and can have a disappointing result. I've learned the hard way. So men keep wearing your caps as you have despite this secret. It does not hold the same value.

We drove to the beach and he laid a blanket out and put on a Guns-n-Roses cassette. 'Patience' began to play. We stayed until the sun set. It was too cold to stay any longer. We watched the day turn into night and he placed his hand around my waist, and pulled me closer. He leaned in and kissed me. His kiss sparked feelings in me that were dormant till that day. So this brings me to "How the hell did we get from point A to Point F"? When did we become Sid and Nancy? And if we truly did... that is so punk rock!

Autumn days, G-N-R, Nirvana's 'Smells like teen spirit', mom's punked out grunge days, Barney and Rug Rats, Raul Mondesi (rahooo), Garciaparra, pogs and slammers, skateboarding, skateboarding boo boos, Tech Decks, Family Guy, and watching the 2008 Super Bowl and supporting his team even though I'm a Cowboy fan, will forever remind me of my son. Happy 17th Birthday Michael Man! I'm crazy in love with you my love.

Love, Mom

Tuesday, March 31, 2015

it's a start

I had a moment... made 529 messages disappear after mustering pretentious strength. The strength sugar spiked and after a few hours, became dependant on insulin. Change is in tow... God willing.

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

yosemite 1991 Part 1

So many significant events filled my 18 year old petite life in 1991. For one, I was a senior in high school. Two, some of the greatest music was born and most importantly, I fell in love.

As I was belting up my high waisted Levi's and lacing up my darling white keds, I dreaded going to my part-time job at Mr. Kim's. Asking a Korean for more time off was a complete deal breaker for him. Tension between us was still crazy thick since I asked for time off for my senior prom, Cantwell's senior prom, gradnight and graduation. Clearly I was abusing his patience. So when I reluctantly asked for more time off to attend our annual summer family vacation to Yosemite, he not so reluctanly said no. I of course went to my Papa and he said, "quit".

The decisions I made that summer were equal parts quick and harsh and flavored with teenage conceit and doused in a heavy course of life's rough lessons. Sometimes I don't understand how the most difficult times in ones life can turn into pleasant memories. The struggle is quite a battle but honestly, this point in my life was welcoming and one of those summer's I will forever warmly remember because without it, my entire life as I know it would be nonexistent.

I didn't realize then that this was the last time I would unofficially be deamed as a child, a daydreamer, awkward and dependant. I guess that's why this moment is so deeply rooted in me.

As the second day of our trip commenced, the three of us decided to make a homemade raft. We floated down stream and the Merced River never felt so peaceful like it did that day. Ironically that would be the last time I would know life without him. I now wished I would have enjoyed that moment a little longer.

Monday, January 20, 2014

second chances

I often ponder on the very same thought that has been fermenting since 1996. When my heart turned 18 in 2013, I no longer entertained his avenues back into my thoughts, worries or more importantly, their lives. Second chances ensued but were quickly extinguished. But due to his light and shady investigation, memoirs have become silent correspondence.