This is a small little story that my Mom just shared with me. I was explaining to her that we are taking my step-son, Tyler, to his first Boston Red Sox game tomorrow night. (He's nine .. he is going to explode when he finds out!!). I do not own a single shirt/hat/apron that has any Red Sox logo or even anything that LOOKS like the logo on it. Made a quick pit stop at Target and picked up a shirt for myself and my hubby (yes, I dress him too).
After telling my Mom my tale of buying two shirts at $15 a piece for one silly game, she explained to me: Tyler is only 9 once, soon enough, he will go on his own. Splurge a little.
That's when she told me that my father always said "if you love it, or need it, just buy it". She went on to say that he would never look at the price tags (which I find hard to imagine .. I mean - never? ever?). My Mom would say something to the effect of it being "too expensive" or something. My Dad would always be there telling her that money isn't worth worrying about. "Gostas? Entao compra!"
Losing one's parent is a hard lesson to learn about enjoying and remembering life. Our Mom has turned to telling my brother and I stories about life, about my father, about growing up. We are collecting these stories. So they are not forgotten. So they can live on and on. So we can always remember where we come from.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
First post...MINE!!!
This story breaks the rules a little bit but I think it’s a great way to start this blog. My mom recently got a lot of money from when she sold our childhood home so she took our Tia out to go buy her a new chair for her living room. My mom told me that our aunt did a lot to help her when my family first came to America and she wanted to pay her back. She’s being doing that a lot lately but, anyways, on the way back from the store, we stopped at the food store, like we do every Saturday, and I think it my Tia who brought it up first.
“Do you know your sister was born with her eyes wide open?”
I had to look up from my smart phone because I was in shock how this came out of the blue and this was way more interesting than what was going on at my FaceBook page. I looked at my mom because I was confused.
“Yeah, she was born with her eyes wide open.”
In the back of my mind, I knew this was true. We had our newborn pictures proudly displayed in my parent’s room while I was growing up and, in fact, they’re still proudly displayed in my mom’s new room. My eyes are shut and I look borderline comatose but my sister’s eyes are wide open. I never thought of it until my Tia and my mom started talking about it in the grocery store.
“I never seen a baby born with her eyes open like that,” my Tia continued to tell me, “She looked like a demon.”
I not exactly sure the word she used was “demon.” Portuguese is not exactly my first language. Well, it was but my skills in it have gone way downhill since the 1st grade. She could’ve been calling my sister a “diamond” but, for some reason, I’m pretty sure she wasn’t.
Of course, my mom came to my sister’s defense because she always does when my sister isn’t around. She said how my sister was “muito pronto” to be born, as if she could not wait to “para viver.” The she said something like my sister had a “febre” to be out in the world. I know that I translated it wrong in my head because fever isn’t the word that she meant to say but fever is a word that fits.
I come from a family of homebodies. There’s nothing wrong with that. I rather sit on the couch, reading a book while listening to the television than just about anything else. Sure, I get the urge to explore but that urging hits me rarely while in my sister it seems to be part of her natural being. She’s always the first one to strike out and go, go, go. It’s like she has a fever, a certain wanderlust to see the world with eyes wide open.
Then my mom sped away because my Tia shops too slowly for her tastes. I thought that was funny. For some reason, a certain saying of pots and kettles popped in head.
“Do you know your sister was born with her eyes wide open?”
I had to look up from my smart phone because I was in shock how this came out of the blue and this was way more interesting than what was going on at my FaceBook page. I looked at my mom because I was confused.
“Yeah, she was born with her eyes wide open.”
In the back of my mind, I knew this was true. We had our newborn pictures proudly displayed in my parent’s room while I was growing up and, in fact, they’re still proudly displayed in my mom’s new room. My eyes are shut and I look borderline comatose but my sister’s eyes are wide open. I never thought of it until my Tia and my mom started talking about it in the grocery store.
“I never seen a baby born with her eyes open like that,” my Tia continued to tell me, “She looked like a demon.”
I not exactly sure the word she used was “demon.” Portuguese is not exactly my first language. Well, it was but my skills in it have gone way downhill since the 1st grade. She could’ve been calling my sister a “diamond” but, for some reason, I’m pretty sure she wasn’t.
Of course, my mom came to my sister’s defense because she always does when my sister isn’t around. She said how my sister was “muito pronto” to be born, as if she could not wait to “para viver.” The she said something like my sister had a “febre” to be out in the world. I know that I translated it wrong in my head because fever isn’t the word that she meant to say but fever is a word that fits.
I come from a family of homebodies. There’s nothing wrong with that. I rather sit on the couch, reading a book while listening to the television than just about anything else. Sure, I get the urge to explore but that urging hits me rarely while in my sister it seems to be part of her natural being. She’s always the first one to strike out and go, go, go. It’s like she has a fever, a certain wanderlust to see the world with eyes wide open.
Then my mom sped away because my Tia shops too slowly for her tastes. I thought that was funny. For some reason, a certain saying of pots and kettles popped in head.
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