2010

In the past two weeks since my angiogram, I completed all the obligatory preparations for Christmas including buying and wrapping gifts, trimming the tree and making a traditional holiday treat. I usually make bread pudding but this year I made coquito, which essentially amounts to Puerto Rican eggnog with a kick of rum. This recipe is so rich, just reading the list of ingredients is enough to stop your heart in its tracks. Four different milks, a dozen egg yolks, cinnamon, coconut cream, rum -- trust me, this drink is a heart attack in a bottle. Thankfully it's made only during the December holidays. Any more often than that would decimate our family population.

I had a family pot luck gathering on the day after Christmas and there was enough food to sink a battleship. Everyone ate to capacity, took home a doggy bag and there was still enough food left over that I didn't have to cook for the rest of the week. In fact I had my children's friends over one evening and there was more than enough to feed them (and you know how much teenagers can eat)! Family, food and coquito. Aaah, those are the holidays in my home.

In contrast to the hustle and bustle of Christmas, we brought in the new year very quietly at home. It was just my husband, my daughter and myself (oh yeah, and our beagle, Marla). My son was out with some friends. We toasted at midnight with some champagne and hugs and kisses all around. Then back to our solitary activities. It was very quiet.

The day didn't feel like a holiday. It felt like any other day of the week. But the clan is gathering at my uncle's house this afternoon to start the new year with the usual suspects...family and food, food, food. That's when it will feel like a holiday to me.

Happy New Year, everybody. The best of everything in 2010.




Ballo ergo sum,
- Gitana, the Creative Diva

A New Year begins

On January 1st I hosted a New Year's Day gathering of the East Coast division of my family. To my surprise and delight, everyone showed up with one exception. As I had predicted, the gathering was crowded, noisy and boisterous but no one seemed to mind at all. It had been such a long time since we had all gathered together that just being together was enough to create a jovial atmosphere. We were 36 people strong crammed into the first floor of my home. It was a festive, happy, energizing gathering.

It was a potluck affair with everyone contributing a dish. I spent over an hour in the kitchen frying tostones, the traditional fried green plantains that are so common in the spanish-speaking Caribbean. I couldn't cook them fast enough and people were snapping them up as fast as they could hit the platter. I actually had my young cousins waiting over my shoulder, like pups hoping for something to fall on the floor so they could pounce on it. My uncles all made out like bandits, grabbing the biggest and crunchiest ones for themselves.

At one point I called everyone to attention to thank them for being a part of this family gathering, to wish my cousin Frankie a happy birthday and to raise a toast to his parents, my dear aunt and uncle, who would be making the trip back to Florida with him to relocate. I choked up at the thought of them leaving and it was all I could do to hold back the tears. One of my cousins from Arizona had sent me an email that she wanted me to read to the assembly, which I did. It was great to have a "virtual" representative from our West coast division present in the room with us.

Then my cousin David, my aunt and uncle's youngest son, took the floor. David was known to be more than a handful as a child and was a source of concern as a young man, causing more than a few gray hairs for his parents in his day. With all of us bearing witness, he spoke to his parents, acknowledging the headaches and heartaches he had caused them, thanking them for the wonderful job they did in raising him and expressing his love and affection for them. It was a totally unexpected, heartfelt and emotional outpouring that was captivating, endearing and left more than a few onlookers teary-eyed.

My uncle Paco, as I said in my last post, has been suffering from and is being treated for depression. On that day he ate, he drank, he danced, laughed and smiled in the way we all remembered him to be. This was no small feat considering he did little more than lay in bed for the last several months. It was a welcome sight for all, especially his wife Norma and their children for whom his condition is most distressing. This fact alone made the day a huge success. It was a day of love, laughter, food, family and fun. It was the meeting of past, present and future. It was a healing of great magnitude.

The pictures taken that day have been uploaded to my Photobucket account and I’ll be sending notification out to the family to check them out, particularly those who couldn’t be there. These images are more than just a chronicle of the day; they are a part of our history.

Ballo ergo sum,
Always and all ways,
- Gitana, the Creative Diva

An exceptional day

In my last entry, I mentioned that among the things I expected to do in the upcoming months would be assisting friends and family in those unexpected times of need. Such an opportunity came yesterday when I was called upon to escort my aunt to a post-surgical follow up appointment with her eye doctor. Under normal circumstances my cousin would have taken time from work to do it but this time it wasn't possible. I was called in to pinch hit and I was more than happy to step in. Truth be told, I have been after myself to visit this side of the family for quite a while (okay, so it's been a few years). My uncle has been sick for a while and I hadn't been to see him so this was not only an opportunity to be of service, it was a chance to redeem myself for my lack of attention.

This trip only took a few hours out of my day but it was worth its weight in gold. Not only was I able to reconnect with members of my family, I received an unexpected bonus. My cousin's daughter was there with her little girl who recently turned two years old and I'm embarrassed to say I had never met her before. What a little doll! Then my other cousin drove in from Boston with his three year old son whom I had also never met before. (Gosh, what a lousy relative I am.) So I got to meet some of the newest members of the family. The bigger bonus is that I had brought my camera with me and was able to capture all of my family in photos. That alone was pricless.

The drive home from my aunt and uncle's home afforded me the opportunity to make a few unexpected stops and pick up some items that I had put off because they were a bit out of the way. This meant that I could scratch a few more things off my To Do list. I arrived home in plenty of time to relax, change my clothes and start dinner before the first of my family members returned home.

The day flowed like a stream of water. I easily found parking wherever I went. I moved from one task to the other without skipping a beat although I was following no set plan. I encountered no resistance in my travels (with the exception of one jerk who nearly caused an accident in front of me because he was in such a hurry to pull out of a driveway). I felt calm, centered and happy. It was the kind of day I've seen portrayed in TV movies, the kind I thought was contrived and manufactured for mass consumption, not the kind of day "real" people experience, and yet that is precisely what I experienced. The events of the day were mundane but the manner and intent with which they were executed was magnificent in its elegant simplicity. Such a day is golden. Such a day is exceptional. Such days are happening to me on an ever-encreasing basis.

This is what it feels like to live in grace.

Ballo ergo sum,
Always and All Ways,
-Gitana, the Creative Diva

What I've learned at weddings

This past weekend I had the happy occasion to attend the wedding of the young man who was my former assistant. He is a brilliant, motivated, capable and dynamic young man and in spite of the generation gap between us we have become fast friends. I call him my "son from another mother" and I wouldn't have missed his wedding for the world. As always, when I attend a wedding, I think back to all the other weddings I have attended, most especially my own. A hundred thoughts race through my head when I hear the familar words declared by the officiate, "to have and to hold... better or worse ...sickness ...health", followed by the final pronouncement, "husband and wife".

I invariably choke up and fight back tears. In years past, they were tears of regret for the unhappiness I was experiencing in my own marriage. The thought of someone else walking into that tender trap was sorrowful to me. I fought back tears of sadness at the realization that all the promises and romance of early marriage lose their luster all too soon in the harsh environment of day-to-day reality. I struggled to keep up the appearance that all was reasonably well in my world, all the while feeling like a hypocrite for doing so.

This wedding was different. At this celebration, I relived the magic moments of my own wedding. At certain points during the ceremony my husband and I exchanged knowing glances and furtive smiles. Our children were seated between us as living testimony to our years together. It would seem that somewhere during the last few years, I began shedding the mantle of marital martyrdom and realized that the struggles, the disappointment, the arguments, the pain are all part and parcel of the covenant known as marriage. They are as much a part of it as are the joys, the laughter, the excitement, the "firsts' in our lives together. Apparently after all these years I have finally grown up. Aaah, so this is what it feels like.

So what have I learned at weddings? That life is a endless circle, just as signified by those bands of gold, and that if we're patient...very, very patient...things manage to come around again to a place of reconciliation and, in the best of scenarios, redemption. I've learned that no matter how dysfunctional a family is, there is magic, strength and love in those ties that bind, however warped they may appear to be. I've learned you're never too old to dream, to hope or to love.

And there's one more thing I learned. If you look, really look, into the faces of two people who truly love each other, you will find heaven.

Ballo ergo sum,
Always and all ways,
- Gitana, the Creative Diva

Fulfilling the Vision and Feeling the Rush

I am a firm believer in the maxim, "Things happen for a reason". I also believe that when you set firm goals in your mind and consistently work towards them, circumstances tend to accomodate you and opportunities present themselves. It is up to us to decide whether or not to avail ourselves of these opportunities when they occur. The choices we make determine our path. These beliefs are the result of my personal experience. For me, these are universal principles, not just dogma.

At the beginning of this year, I created a vision board on which I placed three stated goals that I wished to accomplish before the end of the year. One of those goals was to return to the stage. My performance days were severely sidelined due to my sudden hearing loss and I sorely missed being in front of an audience. I particularly missed bomba, the Afro-Puerto Rican drum-dance genre that is not only a wonderful form of entertainment, it is a celebration of our culture and identity. So when I received an email announcing a series of bomba workshops, I jumped on it. At the time I did not know that one of the requirements would be for the students to participate in two performances.

I'm going to skip straight to the juicy parts so as not to make this entry too long. I was one of three people who sang lead for the first performance which took place on Friday, April 11, 2008. This was odd in and of itself because I am taking the dance and percussion workshops, not the vocal workshops. As if that wasn't unusual enough, I was the only one of the three who sang original material. Yep, that's right. I sang a song I wrote myself. The musical director added some interesting rhythmic breaks which made the number more intricate and interesting. My number was the finale piece and the crowd loved it. One of the elder women in the audience made a point of congratulating me on the short bit of dancing that I managed to squeeze in during the show, telling me that I knew how to dance bomba de verdad, real bomba. What a rush! I have been blessed to not only fulfill one of the goals on my vision board but I did so in a way that far exceeded anything I ever imagined.

Getting back to my original statement about things happening for a reason and setting firms goals. I was seeking an opportunity to return to bomba in some capacity when I received the email about the workshops. I made the choice to enroll in the workshops and therein came the opportunity to perform. But there's more. I was able to make progress in fulfilling one of my unstated goals...that of improving my marital and family relationships.

My husband and children came to the performance with me. Our family outings are more often marked with bickering and in-fighting. This time, although it began a little tensely, by the time we left everyone was in a good mood, especially my husband who spent the whole night cracking wise. It was a rare moment of fun family togetherness.

My fellow students and I are scheduled for another performance in the middle of June. I don't expect to sing again but I'm okay with that. I've already had my 15 minutes of singing fame. Whatever the case, I can't wait to see what the future has in store for me.

Ballo ergo sum,
Always and all ways,
- Gitana, the Creative Diva

What to do when you don't know what to do.

These days it seems that everyone in my family is on edge, angry and in some sort of emotional pain. My 17 year old son is going through his angry young man phase with a vengeance, exhibiting his displeasure at anything that is not to his liking in the most disagreeable ways. My husband has withdrawn himself even more from interacting with the rest of the family, preferring to sit in front of the television set, remote in one hand, beer in the other, expecting the household to run on automatic pilot. My 14 year old daughter, who bears the brunt of her brother's ire, is angry and frustrated and wants nothing more than to hurry through high school so she can escape to college. And I... well, let's say that these days my thoughts have been turning to finding a job and renting a spacious one bedroom apartment. Notice I said ONE bedroom, as in just for me.

I have reached an age when I thought life would be getting a little easier to manage. On the contrary, it has become more difficult. There is no consensus or cooperation on even the most minute of things and I've reached the end of my rope trying to keep it all together. There are no words to describe my feelings of anger, hurt, and frustration. I've had it. I'm through.

So now what?

Surrender.

I had to reach the depths of frustration and despair before I realized there was really nothing I could do to change the members of my family. The only person I have the power to change is myself. All I can do is be who I am and allow them to be who they are. I have to let go and stop trying to control and micromanage every action, and I have to stop allowing their actions to micromanage me. I have to determine what I may be doing to feed into the current situation and then stop feeding it by doing the opposite. I have to relinquish control because, in truth, I have no control. I have only the illusion that I have control.


This is possibly the most difficult thing I have ever had to do. I can only hope that my letting go will cause a change in the family dynamic such that it will balance itself out and create a more harmonious energetic flow. I know that this change, like any other change, will not come easily or without resistance. I just have to let go and allow myself to freefall.


I hope there's a net when I reach the bottom.