The Desert Rose Blog

Dear Family,

I want to thank you all for making it out on Easter day.  I know it was hard not only to run around visiting various families and still coming out to eat half cooked eggs, but I think it was a success!  For one we all got together which I believe is truly what we needed, we were able to have fun on some level, and of course we needed help eating all that dead animal.  Seriously though I really appreciate the effort and sacrifices everyone made to come out.  This gathering only reaffirmed to me that we need to stay connected and not become that family that drifts apart.  I know we all still hurt because Mom is no longer physically with us, but I believe we can honor her in keeping her family together.  Not becoming strangers, not being fearful that we are now all alone in this world. 

            It was nice to see all the family together again.  I believe we need to get to know each other better.  Sounds weird right?!  We’re a family we should know each other pretty damn well by now, but not living under the same roof we have all grown into different individuals.  Families are not meant to be strangers.  We should know each other, know what our goals, and aspirations are.  We should be able to comfortably hang out together without the stresses we may see portrayed in movies, etc.  Which is what made this so nice; we were able to come together and enjoy each others company.  At least that’s how I perceived it.

            I think we can all agree that not having Mom there was hard.  More for some than others; it may not become easier with time but I believe it is well worth the effort.  Mom was all about her family, she seemed to come more alive when she had all of us gathered around her.  Mom was always such a vibrant person, but to see her when her family was there was awe inspiring.  She was a strong woman, and knew just how to handle almost any situation.  Which is why I believe that we can honor her in continuing to gather, continuing to stay connected.  The most important thing we can leave in this world is a legacy of love, and the best we can hope for is that the legacy will live on, long past the time our physical bodies have shut down. 

As the day grew closer I couldn’t help but feel lost without her; feeling as if I was trying to put patches on a worn rag not worth repairing.  Does that sound harsh?  It probably does, but I couldn’t help wonder how Mom would have handled all this.  She always seemed to have everything under control, and I felt as if I had nothing under control.  I have always tried to portray how strong I am, and how easily I don’t let anything affect me.  It’s all a lie.  I am just as lost, just as scared, and just as sad; I have trouble showing what I am feeling.  I always feel as if I will bog the rest of you down with my problems.  With everything else we got going on it doesn’t seem fair to have to bog you all down with my piddly crap, hence I keep it to myself as much as possible.  Of course I was like this before Mom passed on too, so not much has changed there, just the fact that I no longer have her to turn to when I need to talk to someone.  I know I have any one of you I can talk to, and I always hope you all feel the same.  You can talk to me about anything, and everything.  Well maybe not cheese because I probably won’t listen.  I was feeling sad the other night that I no longer had Mom to talk to, when a spectacularly good friend of mine asked me who it was I thought Mom went to when she had problems. I felt horrible that it took someone else to point out that just because Mom is no longer here it doesn’t necessarily mean we are alone.  We have got Dad, and as the same friend pointed out, he is a lot stronger than I have given him credit for.

The point is I want us all to continue to grow as a family.  My goal is to have us all grow closer and not to be afraid to have fun, to cry, to scream, but mostly to have fun together.  Our next family gathering should be in August, don’t have a specific date yet, but most likely it will be on a weekend, so maybe we can start coming up with ideas of where we want to meet or what we want to do.  This is of course not to say that we can’t get together before then, I want to use these gatherings of ours as stepping stones to regular family gatherings.  I can check and see if they are starting Movies in the park again, we and have a beach day, we can take a trip to the zoo.  The sky is the limit and the world is open before us, let us now dwell in the shadows of memories but create new ones to continue Mom’s legacy of love.

~Ruth~

If you had ever spent any time with Pina, you know that she loved to laugh.  And she had a great laugh.  It was deep and strong and infectious and warm.  Even if she were laughing at you tripping or making a mistake, her laugh was so filled with love and warmth that you knew and felt that she wasn’t really laughing at you but with you.

She loved to make others laugh, too.  I was always amazed at how she could get people, even complete strangers, to laugh with her.  I think it was just the way she was.  She made you feel like she was your friend even if you didn’t know her.  How could you not feel this way?  She would come at you with that brilliant, giant smile of hers, a smile that made the sun seem pale in comparison, and start talking to you like you two have been friends for years.

There were many times that my arrogance and hubris would lead me to do some stupid, foolish things.  My Pina would always be there to pull me back from the brink and save me from myself.  And after I had come down from “My Creath Horse,” as she called it, she would start with the loving jokes that never felt like they were at my expense.  Soon she would have me laughing and feeling better.

When she was close to death, she still kept her humor.  She would make us laugh, momentarily chasing away our fears and pain.  She was always like that.  No matter how bad things were for her, she would look out for us, her friends and family, and try to help us and soothe us, ignoring her own misery and pain.  Tell me that isn’t heroic.

When I interact with people, even when I’m in great pain from missing her, I try to follow her example.  I try to make others laugh, even though inside I’m hurting and missing her and needing her so very much.  But she wouldn’t want me to pull into myself and wallow in my own misery so instead, I reach out and try to be as strong as she was.  Strong enough to smile and maybe wise enough to make others laugh.

Her shoes are too large for any of us to fill but I’m going to try.  Remember to laugh and to make others laugh.  That is one of the ways to honor this great and remarkable lady.

She was our light.  Try to be the light for others.

Back in 1981, I took a job as a maid (my dad’s idea, not mine) at Camp San Luis, a Army base a couple of miles outside of San Luis Obispo.  It was a summer job, something between semesters at college.

I was a shy kid, self conscious and insecure about my appearance.  I had never had a girlfriend or been with a woman at all, and had actually made plans to spend the rest of my life alone.  I wanted to be a physicist so I was prepared to just live with my books and leave the world of people alone.  So I was not prepared for what was about to happen to me.

After a brief orientation on the first day, our boss drove me and a couple of other newbies down to the work site.  We were to clean and make up the beds and other maid duties in a bunch of world war II era two man huts down in the center of the base.  It was here that my life was about to take an unexpected and happy turn, one that would turn me into the man who I am today.

We parked by the huts and got out.  I helped unload a couple of boxes of supplies, placing them on the ground.  To this day, I don’t remember her walking up or how she got there but I do remember her squatting next to the boxes, going through the supplies.  She was a short, brown Mexican woman wearing Levis and a simple blouse.

Our boss introduced her to me and the other newbies.  I first thought our boss called her, Tina.  Pina looked up from the supplies and hit us with one of the most beautiful and radiant smiles I had ever seen.  I liked her immediately, though I wasn’t yet smitten by her.  They would come later.  She was curvy and vibrant, but as I had indicated earlier, I was resolved to be alone for the rest of my life so I wasn’t ready to fall for her.  Not yet.

Pina told me years later that she had been attracted to me from the first.  I still laugh thinking about this.  You see, I’ve never been happy with my looks.  And  back then, I was all feet and nose.  I was only 160 pounds with a large nose and even larger feet.

Pina was shy but not as shy as me.  Over the following weeks, I got to know her better and started to allow myself to actually feel things for her that I had never experienced before.  Though I had no idea that she had any interest in me, though I started suspecting that she might, I started falling in love with her.  It’s hard not to fall in love with this woman.  She was funny and witty and full of warmth and I enjoyed being with her immensely.  She made me forget how skinny and awkward I was, something that she always did, even years later, instilling me with confidence.

I will relate more of this story later.

I can’t drive by Camp San Luis anymore without bursting into tears.  You see, that time in the camp made me who I am.  I am Pina’s man, her mate, her soul mate.  I am not just Jerry, I am a part of her and she a part of me.  Her and I became a single entity.  Other people spends their years together moving apart.  Her and I only grow closer and closer.  We had our problems and difficulties but never did we lash out at each other.  We were one.

I’m still one with her.  I’m filled with her beauty and wisdom and love.  It hurts being without her, and it always will because time isn’t going to fix this wound, but at least I got to be with her.    A friend of mine told me something that now makes sense.  He told me that, yeah I’m hurting but at least I got to know her and love her.  I was fortunate in that.  I was hurting too much at the time to fully appreciate what he said.  Now I know he’s right.  The pain hurts a lot but it’s a pain that I would never want taken from me.  It’s a pain that arises from loving a truly remarkable and beautiful person.  Taking that pain away could only be done by erasing my memories of her and I’ll never want to lose those memories.

Sorry to ramble.

For years, I would tease Pina that I was going to get a big tattoo with her name on a heart on my arm.  She didn’t want me to get the tattoo and I got the impression that she would be slightly upset if I did.

When she was lying in the hospital, literally in her death bed, I decided that I was going to get the tattoo so that she would know as she passed away that I was her’s, that her mark wasn’t just on my soul but also upon my body.    I never got the chance, though.  She passed away before I could do it.

Over the months, I have been debating with myself if I should go through with getting a tattoo.  If I’m to see her again, won’t she be displeased with me?  I have come to believe that she may be displeased if we meet again and the tattoo comes passes over with me, but she will just roll her eyes, smile that radiant, loving smile of hers and wrap me in her arms and kiss me.

I’m getting the tattoo.  I want to design it myself, with the help of my son Richard, who is a brilliant artist.  I shall keep you posted.  I shall even post pictures.

Pina loved Nutter Butter Sandwich Cookies.  No matter her mood, if I were to surprise her with a package of those cookies, she would forget all problems she had (even with me) and become all smiles and laughter, not that she wasn’t smiles and laughter most of the time.  No matter the time, day or night, if she suddenly got a urge for some Nutter Butters, I would gallantly rush off to hunt down and obtain for her some of these cookies, even if meant a trip in the middle of the night to a neighboring town.  (There is a 24 hour store in San Luis Obispo which is about twenty minutes from our house.)

Today I was shopping in the grocery store when I passed through the cookie aisle.  Forgetting where I was, I hadn’t prepared myself for what was about to happen.  As I searched the shelves for some creme-filled wafers for the kids, I happened to spot the Nutter Butters.  I actually froze.  I couldn’t make myself move for a few seconds as I felt overwhelmed by the sense of loss and pain that seeing those cookies made me feel.

Those are her cookies.  So many times I have bought those cookies for her.  They use to be a source of joy for me.  I would buy the Nutter Butters knowing that I would soon be making my beautiful wife happy.

As the tears started welling up, I forced myself to move.  All of the life had drained out of me.  I moved down the aisle mechanically, forcing one step after the other.  I fought back the tears and the sobs and kept going, grabbing the wafers for my kids on the way out of that aisle.

When will time make this easier?  I don’t think time can fix this hurt that I feel.  It’s too deeply rooted in my heart.  If you knew Pina, you would understand.  She filled every part of my being with her laughter and humor and love and warmth.  Every moment with her was like an adventure.    I wish now that I spent more time with her.  Even her mundane trips to the store were always a joy for me when I went with her.  Stupidly, I sometimes, too many times, passed up those opportunities to be with her.

It has been six months and I still feel empty, dead, inside.  I occasionally feel moments of joy, like when I joke around with my kids and family and coworkers but it isn’t the same.  Underneath that joy is a bottomless pit of sorrow and loneliness that will never go away.  Nothing can ever light up my emotions and thoughts like Pina did.

I miss you, babe.  I hope that you are still here with us somewhere and that you are happy.  You deserve happiness.  You gave so much happiness to me and to the world.  I hope to see you again someday.  I love you, babe.

Pina had a wonderful way of expressing herself.  If she couldn’t find the right words in English, she would use Spanglish.  If neither English, Spanish or Spanglish sufficed, she would create a beautiful tapestry of words to encapsulate what she wanted to express.  It was always a joy to hear her speak.  It was like watching an artist fill a canvass with exotic and captivating imagery.

I sit here now wishing I had kept a diary so that I could have written down all of the many splendid things she said over the years.  My memory fails me now.  Perhaps it’s the pain of remembering these wonderful moments, the pain of loss of such a wonderful and beautiful person from our lives.  I hope that some day I can remember more.

What started me to think about this was that I was looking through a thesaurus when I remembered her coining a word to describe someone who committed a crime.  Struggling that day to come up with the proper word in English, she knowingly crafted a word that we both laughed about and would often use later.  Her word for someone who committed a crime: Crimer.

Everyday I see another reminder of the love she had at crafting words to the delight of herself and everyone around her.  There is a local grocery store in my neighborhood called, The Cookie Crock.  It was a name that she often found would twist her tongue.  She would call it, Cricky Crook, or Cracker Cookie.  I can’t drive by that store without thinking about her mangling that name.  I still cry thinking about it.

I miss you, Pina.  How you could take the simplest things and render them beautiful and glorious.  It seems like nothing but beauty and joy radiated from you at all times.  I miss basking in the brilliance of your soul, babe.  I am in the dark without you.

Most of us are familiar with the metaphor about the twin sets of footprints through the sands of time of our life.  When I look back at my life, I notice that a great deal of the time, there was only one set of footprints.  Those were the times Pina carried me.

You see, I’m a bit of a dreamer and a coward.  Instead of facing my problems, I either drift off to some daydream or light at the end of the tunnel view of the world or I just completely avoid the issue all together.  I have been this way most of my life.

Pina, on the other hand, never backed away from a problem.  She would face a problem head-on and almost always conquer it or break it down until it was not much of a problem.  She was not a coward.  She was one of the bravest, most heroic people I have ever known.

I think back how she would take care of my problems because I was too up in the clouds or too scared to do so myself.    I must have driven her loco with my procrastinating, but she loved me so she endured.

So now when I push myself to get things done, I do so with her in mind.  I do it for her.

Happy Birthday Ama!  It seems odd not to be making thta last minute run to Madonna Inn for your Pink champagne cake.  I don’t care what anyone says, time heals nothing, it just teaches you how to better hide your feelings.  I miss you so much!  I know I just want you around for selfish reasons and I still can’t picture this world existing without you.  I have some decisions to make and you are the one I could always turn to, no matter how crazy.  You were always there backing me.  I love the way you made everything seem ok, and how you could transform the ordinary into some extraordinary experience never to be forgotten, except by me, dang memory.  It still eludes me.  I wish you were here so we could celebrate another year of you, and the amazingly wonderful Mom you are.  How old would you be today again 35?  Another year and a half and I will be the same age, I will have to tell people you are my sister, my younger sister most likely too.  I remember how when I would go anywhere with you, heads would turn.  No matter where we would go, you had a way of attracting people to you.  Even at the swap meet, which seems empty without you there, bargaining those sellers down so I could get another camer for $1.  As your birthday gift this year, I am going to live my life to the fullest, I am going to work extra hard to come out of my hermit shell and be someone you could be proud of.  I love you Mom!

When I fell in love with Pina, I became more aware of how people treat Hispanics differently.  I was aware of the racism from an early age, but when you love someone who is subjected to racism on a daily basis, your awareness intensifies.

Next time you’re out amongst the people, try observing how people respond differently to Hispanics.   Watch how store clerks become a little less friendly when the next customer in line is Hispanic.  Or how a doctor or policeman becomes more abrupt and insensitive.  Then imagine yourself in the shoes of someone who lives with this racism.

Living with this racism everyday would beat down most people, but not Pina.  Pina never allowed others to pigeon hole her or treat her differently.  When faced with indifference or disdain, Pina would turn on that great, beautiful, radiant smile of hers, and whomever tried to treat her as inferior,  she would hit them with a barrage of jokes and laughter and friendly conversation.  And almost always, she would win that person over.  She would leave them laughing and smiling.

I watched her charm doctors and nurses, policemen and lawyers, store clerks and anyone else who crossed her path.  She almost always left people smiling and feeling better about themselves and the world.  And when she entered a place where people already knew her, people would drop everything and come chat with her.

It was amazing to watch this from her side.  She radiated warmth and love and joy, and everyone near her could feel it.  She could light up a whole room, chasing away all gloom and pain.

As I have said before, there were few obstacles or barriers for Pina, just challenges.  And she almost always won in surmounting those challenges, using her wisdom and wit and charm.

I miss being her sidekick.  I miss bathing in the warmth of her love.  I miss her.

I am sorry that I didn’t get to know my sister-in-law better.  I know that she was a strong woman with a great sense of humor.  I can tell this by the way my brother and their children miss and talk about her.  The few times I was around her she was always funny and sweet, but overall you got the sense that she cared very deeply about others.  She was a survivor of domestic abuse and when I think about how hard a time she must of had I realize just how strong she was.   Her caring nature meant she did something to give back to others, and to help in any way she could.   She would talk of learning to speak English from watching t.v.  I don’t know if she was serious or not but since I could never learn another language (I have a hard enough time with English) I knew she was very smart.  I loved the fact that my brother was so very happy and I am so sorry for not getting to know her better.