Portugal...

I see these places in Portugal and meet these friendly yet unobtrusive people. I find myself waking up the next morning having the most restful sleep I have had in years.  Waking from this sleep, I wonder if the experiences in this country and with these people are a dream;one which I hope I can revisit at night. Portugal seems to be able to balance the ancient and the modern; the rugged and the refined; the just cool enough yet still warm climate. To me, it is the perfect, magical place.

Hugo and the ocean...

While in Ponta Delgado in the Azores, we met and got to know our tour guide, Hugo. We spent most of the day with him, and because the island of Sao Miguel is surrounded by the Atlantic Ocean, we saw sites related to it.  One stop was near a particularly rough, rocky area where the ocean crashed against the boulders resulting in explosions of white water at least 200 feet high.  The water was initially a deep blue; one would describe it as azure. When it hit the rocky coast it quickly became startlingly white. Powerful waves against the stoic coast.

Hugo remarked on the “energy” of the waves as they crashed against the coast.  He said that he was born and raised on Ponta Delgado and at 58 years old still was amazed at this phenomenon.  He said he could watch these waves crash against these rocks every day of his life.

Hugo said that he moved away from the island for a short time in his late teens.  He said that he began to lose himself and who he was.  He quickly realized that he needed to be by the ocean, the sea.  Hugo said that the ocean was part of him.  It was in his nose as he smelled the salt and the clean air; he breathed it and he became it.  The ocean was part of him.

My intentions to simplify my life...

       Spend more time with people who truly matter.  Invest my time in   people   who support me and who I am; support them in growing our relationships and loving them for who they are.

     Spend money on things that truly matter.  To me it is travel,   learning/expanding my mind, giving to others in need.

 Spend more time giving away stuff and less time getting stuff.

  Spend more time outdoors and less time indoors.

  Spend more time walking and less time driving.

  Spend time working on a flexible schedule and less time  overworking on a rigid schedule. Work to live and not live to work.

  Spend more time in solitude to fill my cup so that I have more for others.

  Spend more time loving myself for who I am and less time  criticizing  who I  was.

  Spend more time giving thanks and less time wanting more.

  Spend more time being mindful of the present and spend less time living in the past.

It has been worth it...

I don't think those nuclear, middle class and/or affluent families get it (or want to get it) about what it is like to get their kid through college. To be that single parent who does not want their child to complete their degree with the burden of student loan debt. You are the one, the only that puts together the financial aid package of grants. You work those extra hours to pick up the rest of what is owed, of what the college demands you pay. 

My son, intelligent and ever inquisitive, made good grades but changed majors numerous times.  I told myself that I must provide for him a two parent support system, both emotionally and financially. 

It has been worth it.  I realize it has been worth it. Despite this I thank God it is to an end, at least for now. I wonder if those two parent, affluent families realize that the most difficult part of their child's education are just the hurdles that they do not have to endure?

We made it!!!

Q. has officially completed college! He (and I by default) are releasing a grateful sigh. A milestone for him; a milestone for me. Some bumps in the road, but we made it. We made it!

A letter to my son...

I may not have been a perfect mom, but I tried to be. I may not have disciplined you enough, or sometimes maybe too much. I suppose only time will tell. I fed you, I clothed you, I bought you toys.  I sang to you (however off key). I bathed you, I taught you. You were my precious boy. 

My dear friend referred to you as my work of art.  I have always thought of you that way.  You are the most important thing I will ever do. Not the education, not the job.  It is you.

I got up with you to send you to school.  I made those breakfasts for you which were hearty.  You never liked cereal, but preferred homemade omelets or pancakes.  I made these because I loved you. 

I stroked your forehead when you were sick.  When you began to experience migraines in your early teens, I took you to the neurologist to ensure you had the medicines to cause you some relief. It broke my heart to see you in pain.  I stayed up at night to ensure you were asleep, finally relieved of that pain.

You were never that cuddly child and you still are not.  I do not blame you for this. It was who you were and who you are.  I always respected that and have tried to give you that physical distance.

When you were born, I stared at you, unable to look away. I didn’t want to miss anything.  I adored, I adore you. I always kept you safe, I soothed you when you cried or when you were hurting.  

Do you realize that you mean the world to me?

I argued with you as you matured.  I still do.  We differ in our world views.  You to the right and always conservative. Me very much to the left and a social liberal; diametrically opposed.

You formed opinions of your own and I am quite proud of you for this. I love the man you have become. I tried teaching you  right from wrong. I wanted you to respect others however different they were from you; however different their life experiences or circumstances. 

I came from a stoic, somewhat inexpressive family.  We never really talked about those sometimes uncomfortable issues. I promised myself this would not be the case with you.  I hugged you every day and said I loved you at least 3 times a day.  It was important to me that you knew this; that I loved you. I  loved you, I love you unconditionally.

The thing is, it doesn’t matter if we want different things for your future.  What matters to me is that you are happy with who you are and the way you live your life.

Growing up, we sometimes had to move due to life’s circumstances.  A divorce on my part, a job relocation.  I always tried to discuss this with you as I wanted you to feel safe.

I remember that when you were in your early teens, you pretended that you didn't know me when you were on an outing. A few years later, however, you and your 2 friends hugged me as we cried at the fact families broke apart.  Those times were uncertain, and we all shared that loss.

We both went through the most difficult time in our lives when you lost your grandfather and I lost my dad. Sometimes I didn't know if we'd make it through.  We did though, and we came out the other side.  I do think we are both stronger for that. We are somehow stronger in those broken places.

I suppose what I am trying to express to you is the deep love I feel for you as my son. I love you.  Always have, always will.

Oxtail soup....

It’s funny how food, our memories and our experiences with it, are so intricately interwoven into who we are. Over dinner tonight, my son and I were talking about the first time we tried oxtail soup.  

Q and I had made a trip out to San Francisco when he was 10 or 11 years of age. It was a sunny day in early June so we decided to explore the city. In late afternoon, we came upon Chinatown and were instantly bombarded by the unfamiliar sights and sounds. It was literally as if we had entered a foreign land, in the best sense.  

We were ravenous, our appetites whetted by the delicious smells emanating from the surrounding eateries. We spontaneously entered a small, narrow-ish restaurant.  I would like to say that it was due to our extensive knowledge of authentic Chinese cuisine, but this was not the case.  Truth be told, the restaurant was a few steps away, was not crowded and the smells coming from within were both exotic yet somehow familiar.  The menu was in Chinese only,  but thankfully for us had pictures of the foods offered.  We chose quickly as we followed our stomach’s demands:  niú wěi tang/oxtail soup.  Meat of a cow’s tail.