Grandmotherland

As some of you know, my beloved paternal grandmother has been ill in recent days.  I thank you for your prayers on her behalf.  I - along with many other family members who no longer live in El Salvador - booked flights, made arrangements for our families, and took off to El Salvador for the weekend hoping for a few more precious moments and memories with my grandmother, just in case things took a turn for the worst.

I thought I would return from El Salvador heartbroken, distressed, or in some way needing to recover from the emotional ups and downs of the journey, but instead I've come back inspired and filled to the brim with a zest for life.

The Lord has already blessed my grandmother with 98 years on this earth, and she has so much to show for it. My maternal and paternal grandmothers are the only grandparents I ever knew.  Unfortunately, my paternal grandmother lost her husband many years ago and my maternal grandmother raised her children without her husband. Despite not knowing my grandfathers, I have had no shortage of leadership, guidance, and love, at the head of my extended family.  Both of my grandmothers are strong and amazing women whose influence permeates all subsequent generations.

What does Nina Juanita have to show for 98 years on earth?

Strength. I've never seen my grandmother sunken into self-pity. She's endured various hardships, obstacles, and tribulations, and she has always done so with resilience and grace. Nothing can destroy her, and nothing can even make her have a doubt.

Devotion. There is no one who knows my grandmother who doesn't know - with absolute certainty - that her family has always come first.  She made things happen for her many sons and daughters through a devotion and encouragement that tore through all the expectations one might have for a single mother with a brood of children.

Love. My grandmother has poured such abundant and palpable love into the lives of everyone she has met. Her love is known by her children, her grandchildren, her great-children, and the many students she taught during four decades of being a teacher. More important still, she has demonstrated that love in a way that is a lesson for all of us.  By knowing her and her examples of kindness, patience, and encouragement, we have become better able to love each other.  I see the love she has shared with the world carried forward among my dad and his brothers and sisters, and I see it modeled and passed down to all subsequent generations.

Faith. My grandmother has so much in her life that she could take credit for.  Her sons and daughters are engineers, doctors, a judge, and serve in the military.  They've accomplished much on account of their mother's love, their love for each other, and their mother's incessant prayers and supplication.  I have yet to encounter someone in my life who prays more than my grandmother. Although we wish to keep her with us for as long as possible, so that we may all continue to benefit from her physical presence, the fact of the matter is that she has been with the Lord for decades. Her faith is constant, boundless, and she gives credit where credit is due for everything she has accomplished in this life. She doesn't have to leave us to go be with Jesus. She has been with Him for as long as anyone can remember.

It truly was a blessing to see my grandmother and my extended family, even if the trip only lasted for a moment.  I've come back to the States with a new resolve and a commitment to cultivate in my self what I so admire about my grandmothers. I hope that some day when my children and children's children think of me they list out some of the same qualities listed above.  I am forever thankful for the shining examples that my grandmothers have provided and I hope to pass on their greatness.

American Dream

For many people reading this, being American is a birthright. For me, not so much.

I'm extremely fortunate to have been born to hard-working, honest, intelligent people of great integrity - but my parents were not born on American soil.
I've told the story many times so I'll stick to the basics.  Due to his amazing amazing mind & tireless work ethic, along with the good fortune that so often drips down from Above, my Dad was transplanted to the United States by an American company in 1986. He came over with his young wife and three small children who knew neither the culture nor the language in a strange new land.

Fast forward a few decades and those small children all have college educations, a juris doctorate, and a few masters degrees between them.  Fast forward a few decades and each of those small children have an ever-broadening sphere of influence and pour energy tirelessly into parent/teacher organizations, at-risk youth, and organizations that empower mothers.  Fast forward a few decades and each of those three young ladies have been on the government payroll, selected for their educations, their enthusiasm, and the heart that they put in to all that they do.  Fast forward a few decades and you'll find three stable homes with happy marriages and healthy children.

In short, these three little Spanish speaking Salvadoran girls that my young parents crossed the border with all live the American Dream.

It was Outsiders that taught us what this Country stood for.  It was Non-Americans who helped us build the Dream every step of the way.  It was people who did not have this opportunity as a Birthright who cherished it, believed in it, and helped us to excel in it.  My parents left life as they knew it to start over in the United States. I am what they have to show for it.

I never thought twice about becoming an American.
I was in such a hurry to become an American citizen that, despite being the youngest, I was naturalized before everyone else in my family. I needed to be able to do all the things that come with citizenship. I needed to shuffle off some of the limitations that accompany LPR status.
I needed to be able to vote. 

I never thought twice about becoming an American.
I didn't have to. 
I became an American as soon as I understood what it meant, what it could mean, and how I could contribute to its potential.

I aspire to pass on what my parents instilled in me.  I strive to pass on the tradition of believing in ideals, in loving what something stands for, and of seeking to effectuate an opportunity's full potential. I hope to pass on the belief that an open mind, a big heart, and the satisfaction of doing good for others are what create a meaningful life.  I hope to pass on to my children, and those in my sphere of influence, this great belief in the American Dream.

The Moments We Were Made For

When we feel the rush of a great success,
When we feel the triumph of overcoming unfavorable odds,
When we have a notable experience with the ones we love...

There are times, milestones, seasons when we feel more alive,
There are moments when we feel more convinced that we are an intended being,
There are times when the revelation that we a critical a component of existence comes to the forefront.

The truth is, all the moments matter.

The Creator didn't sit down one day and purposefully create a life for it to have 34 years of build-up to one moment of meaning.  Yes, some moments are more memorable.  Yes, some moments have a special place in our heart.  Yes, some moments are so critical to our life experience that it's hard to even remember what life was like before the moment transpired.

But we were created for each and every one of our moments. 

The thousand decisions we make in a day develop habits, thought patterns, ways of being in the world.  The attitude that we emanate affects others joys, their successes, their faith in what is possible.  The small moments ultimately culminate in a demeanor that is or isn't able to handle or effectuate the more momentous and critical moments.

Live the moments you were made for - the easily forgotten ones and the pivotal ones - as if each and every one is the moment that you were made for.

A Bright Future

Ten years ago I walked across the stage at Notre Dame Law School. I shook the Dean's hand, I smiled for pictures, and I sure as heck made my family proud.

But when I see a picture of myself on graduation day, I see a young lady with the weight of the world on her shoulders.

I had spent the month leading up to graduation praying, crying, studying, praying, crying, in and out of doctor's offices, praying, crying, letting all of my support people hold me up, and a bit more praying and crying.

I just wanted to crumble.

I had baby clothes in my drawers for a baby I'd never meet, my first marriage was in shambles, and but for the grace of God - and the mercy of some of my professors - I barely completed my coursework in that final semester of law school.

I had felt the same darkness before in life, but in times past I had often trudged through the dark spots alone, shutting everyone out.

I just wanted to crumble.

But I didn't.

I remember my roommate bursting through my apartment bedroom door after I'd had a methotrexate treatment. I simply fell apart in her arms. There were no words. Just weeping. Just letting someone strong carry me through brokenness.

I remember telling my mom about alternate plans for my future.  Plans that didn't require as much risk, as much vulnerability.  I didn't want to set myself up for another great fall.  I couldn't summon the courage to take the bar.  She so matter of factly looked at me and asked "how are you going to do all of that while practicing law?"  I had given up on myself but she had not - not for one second - even considered giving up on me.

My sisters cried with me, they got angry along with me, and they helped me start the tedious process of building myself back up.

Why am I sharing this?

- I'm sharing this for anyone else who is struggling.

Weather the storm. You never know what beautiful and amazing things lie ahead.

- I'm sharing this for those who feel alone. 

I thought I was alone for so many years when I wasn't.  I just had to learn how to let people in.

- I'm sharing this for those of us who feel like we always have to be strong.

We don't have to always have it together. We can fall apart. We can let others carry us.  There's no shame in that.  Regaining strength by relying on those who love us, and who want to be there for us, is a much more honorable path than suffering in silence.

- I'm sharing this because I remember.

I remember how hard it is to dream of a future that doesn't happen.  Certain happily-ever-afters were never meant to be, but I cherish the happily-ever-afters that I wake up to every day.

I didn't want to take risks.  I didn't want to be vulnerable.  I didn't want to set myself up for another great fall.  But my life is full, rich, and beautiful because, with the help of my loved ones, I did all of those things anyway.

Think About Such Things

Things have been difficult since November 22, but I find these moments of Beauty that sustain, motivate, encourage, and inspire me so that I can keep going through exhaustion, stress, and fear of the unknown.

My three year old has a mind and heart beyond her years.  Tonight, she oriented me in the right direction when, frankly, I felt tired, frustrated, and wanted nothing more than a break from it all.

Eva's recent illness has put me through many sleepless nights, lots of worry, a few trips to the doctor, fear for the worst, and generally has taken a toll on my day-to-day life.  If I didn't work for a firm as gracious as the one I'm at, I imagine I would have fared much worse in this particular period of time.  I am forever grateful that I have been able to be present for my baby through this time.

Tonight, I had enough of the worries and I had hubby administer our sweet Eva's breathing treatment.  It's hard to sit through your child's misery and I just wasn't feeling up for it. Ryan is as present and supportive of a spouse and father as one could hope for so he volunteered to administer the breathing treatment to Eva without hesitation.  I listened on through the baby monitor as he began the treatment.  I heard Eva began to whimper and whine. 

My heart breaks at hearing her cries.  I heard the loud and grating sounds of the breathing machine start pumping out medication.  And then I hear beauty and love through the voice of my little girl.

I heard Alessandra through the monitor.  

At first, she didn't understand what was going on, so she encouraged Ryan to stop the treatment.  She didn't want her baby sister to go through discomfort and confusion and asked Ryan to end it.

Once she understood that the treatment was for Eva's benefit, her goal changed.  Instead of having her heart set on ending the treatment, she focused on making the treatment as painless as possible. She tried to entertain, distract, and comfort Eva for those endless minutes through her breathing treatment.  

My sweet girl could have been downstairs playing with all the new toys Santa brought her.  She could have resented Eva for stealing all the parental attention - even if it was due to a hardship.  It never even crossed my dear Alessandra's mind to resent or ignore her little sister's hardship.  Instead, she took it upon herself to try to better the situation.

Here I am - 34 years old - sitting this round out, handing the reigns off to Ryan, praying to God, telling Him I just need a break from it all.  

Here is my 3 year old, stepping up to the plate, taking on someone else's problem, looking to protect her little sister or - at least - to find a way to alleviate her discomfort.

I thank God for the angels he has sent me.
Please God let me always be a worthy mother.

Philippians 4:8-
Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things.

Matthew 19:14-
Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."

Que te Cuide Diosito

Alessandra is my little robot child.  We programmed her early on and now, if we just stick to the routine, she falls in line perfectly.  She slept through the night when she was a tiny baby.  She's always operated on a predictable schedule in a predictable routine.  To this day, she eats and sleeps on a very predictable schedule.

Her nightly routine is accomplished through a joint effort by Mama and Daddy (when I'm not out at work or attorney events...but that's for another post). Daddy gives her milk, brushes her teeth, changes her clothes, and reads her a book.  Once his portion of the routine is complete, I take over with a book or two, some songs, many many kisses, and blessings.

Each night, the last thing I say to her as I leave her room is "que to cuide Diosito".  For years she has accepted is a part of the routine and has never asked for an explanation.  Tonight, she finally asked me - "mama, what is that? what are you saying?"

How do you explain to your three year old that these four words are a simple and concise expression of my soul's cry that all be well with her for all time and in all ways.

-I'm asking God to watch over you.
-I won't always be there and I can't always see everything that you do, where you go, or what happens to you, but God can.
-I hope for your safety.
-I hope for your peace.
-I hope for your health.
-I hope that you flourish.
-I'm asking God for His help.

I prayed less before I had children.  But even now that I do have children, I realize there is something missing from my prayers.  There is something missing from my parenting altogether.  God hasn't given me charge over mere flesh and blood.  He has allowed me to participate in the growth, the flourishing, the teaching - the lives - of endless spiritual beings that He created with Intent and Purpose.

Recent events have brought to my attention just how much I try to take on the task of being a good parent in isolation.  Yes, I ask God for my children's health.  Yes, I ask God to help me be a good mother.
But how often do I pray for my children as spiritual beings?  How often do I ask God to be accessible to them?  How often do I pray that they experience the joy of a relationship with their Creator?

I send Alessandra to a Christian school each day, but do I receive her into a Christian home each evening?  She knows about spiritual matters, but how much is she hearing about spiritual matters from me?  Many people have interceded for her in prayer, but how often have I taken on the task?

I've taken it for granted that all is right with my child's Spirit.  The last 10 days or so have been a wake-up call for me to bring my children's most important well-being into focus and to address it purposefully.

I will continue to ask God to help me be a good mother.  I will begin more actively interceding for my children's Spirits. I am grateful that He has shown me one more way that I can do more for my children.

Little Mirrors

My two little ladies don't look a whole lot like each other.  I look at my sweet Alessandra and I see a reflection of myself.  She has my eyes, my dark hair, my big cheeks.

I look at my little Eva and I see someone quite different looking back at me.   She's just as sweet and just as beautiful as her sister, but she has her daddy's eyes, his coloring, his facial expressions.

It doesn't matter that one child looks like me and the other doesn't, when I look at them I see myself.

Children are an amazingly accurate and unforgiving mirror of your reality.

It's almost impossible to remain blissfully ignorant or oblivious to your bad habits, your shortcomings, your insecurities, your temper, your impatience, your loss of perspective, and every other bit of your humanity when you're in the presence of someone you love so much.
You know what you want to be for them and you know what you presently are.  You know that there is a chasm between what you wish to be for them and what you've been for them so far.

I want to give my girls my best.

My best doesn't come easy.  My best isn't something that happens naturally, effortlessly, or even consistently. My best requires working tirelessly.  My best requires acknowledging my weaknesses. My best requires learning from my mistakes.  My best requires humility.
It requires knowing that I'm the clay and, but for the Potter, I will never be the kind of mom, woman, example, or friend that I wish to be for my daughters.

My best requires consistently choosing the Good over the nice, the comfortable, and the easy.

My best requires losing myself and finding myself all at once.  Part of me is lost in the giving of my time, my energy, my thoughts, my hopes, my ambitions in giving myself over to love.  Part of me is found in the completeness, the purpose, the accomplishment, the satisfaction that comes from being love for them.

My little treasures.  My little mirrors.  Let me never lose sight of what matters.