Father’s Day Tribute to the Men in my Family

Picture2Dad: A son’s first hero. A daughter’s first love.

The fathers in my family are affectionately referred to as Dad, Daddy, and Papi. Newsflash: None are perfect! But each one represents love, courage, provision, and strength. Their eyes glow with purpose. Their smiles melt hearts. Their chest swells with pride. Their callous hands protect. They stand tall with dignity. And their embraces offer comfort and assurance. Yes, they are the pillars of our households.

It’s said that every man is trying to either live up to his father’s expectations or make up for his father’s mistakes. I’m not sure if that’s true. I only know that each man represented in my family strives to be the very best possible. Each holds a mantle and carries a torch for the next generation. Each dad represented in my family lays a solid foundation, even those who have crossed over to the other side. I can’t help but think about my own grandfathers. They were strong, respected, dedicated men with a constant presence. They left behind a legacy. When the tough got going, they didn’t cave under pressure. They persevere with Puerto Rican pride in every fiber of their being.

To the men in my family who are dads (and have yet to be): I love and admire each and every one of you. And to my dear husband, who married me with four children, I share this quote: “It takes a strong man to accept somebody else’s children and step up to the plate another man left on the table.” I salute you.

I salute you all.

Remember: Any man can be a father. But it takes a special person to be a dad.

© M.A. Pérez, 2016, All Rights Reserved

About "Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit & Grace"

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June 17, 2016 · 6:19 AM

Metamorphosis

My family was poor.  As a child, by not owning four-legged friends, I grew an interest in the behaviors of tiny critters, such as insects. Curious at what lay beneath the ant piles, I liked to dig apart their colonies to watch the different activities of the workers, the soldiers, and the queen ant that I read about in books. I never developed a fear of grasshoppers, even if they spat “tobacco” on my fingers, or of handling caterpillars that pricked when they crawled on my hand, or of sneaking up on lizards that left their wiggling tails behind — I was too caught up wondering what the funny red thing on their throats going in and out was all about. My fascination for those critters was a favorite pastime.

Not all school projects were memorable, but I recall one that stuck with me for years. When the teacher assigned a report on any subject, I decided to pick caterpillars. On a large poster board, I drew the four stages of the butterfly: (1) egg, (2) larva, (3) pupa, and (4) adult. I described metamorphosis. Though it wasn’t a Picasso, my work earned a ranking on my school’s hallway wall, posted for all to see, with the highest mark in class: A+.

One sunny day at school during recess, I found a black, woolly caterpillar crawling in the shrubs and unafraid, gently placed it in my palm. A classmate asked to see what I held. When I opened my hand to show him, he whacked it so hard that the caterpillar flew out and disappeared onto a bush. And that’s when I morphed! Without hesitation, I slapped him on the face, hard. The boy stood stunned, mouth open.

As an adult, I often thought about the word metamorphose. It means to change completely in nature or form.

I think back to how alcohol deceived my loved ones, giving them a false sense of power. After drinking, like the caterpillar many years ago in my book report, they metamorphosed into social butterflies fresh out of their cocoon. They felt invincible, glamorous, or intelligent. Gone were the restraints that crippled them emotionally. They carried a false sense of bravado. It was then that they laughed wildly, conversed freely, and flirted openly.

The more attention and compliments they received from others, the less they knew the difference between genuine praise and mere flattery.

(A small excerpt taken from Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit and Grace. )

© M.A. Pérez, 2016, All Rights Reserved

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I Don’t Know What to Do!

I don’t know what to do today.
Perhaps I’ll go outside and play,
or stay indoors and watch TV,
or take a bath, or climb a tree.

Or maybe I’ll go ride my bike,
or pick my nose, or take a hike,
or jump a rope, or scratch my head,
or play a game, or stay in bed,
or dance a jig, or pet the cat,
or drink some milk, or buy a hat,
or sing a song, or read a book,
or change my socks, or learn to cook,
or dig a hole, or eat a pear,
or call my friends, or brush my hair,
or hold my breath, or have a race,
or stand around and slap my face.

I’m so confused, and bored, and blue,
to not know what I ought to do.
I guess that I should just ask you.
So, what do you think I should do?

Copyright © 2009 Kenn Nesbitt. All Rights Reserved.


I found the above humorous poem and thought about my kids when they were small. Outside of TV, the only technology we had back then was the Atari, playing games like Pong and Asteroids. Does anyone remember those? But the most entertainment for me was watching my kids’ aerobic antics while calling out to me:

“Watch me, Mommy.”

“Mommy, look at this.”

“See what I can do, Mommy?”

Today, my grown children each have individual gifting, talents, and uniqueness. I still love hearing from them whether they call, text, or email me. My heart skips a beat whenever they excel in their achievements. They still put a smile on my face. We can still laugh together.

Children grow fast. All you have to do is blink. You’ll wonder where did the time fly? Cherish those moments.

Oh, and by the way, I drew the sketch below of my kids, thirty years ago.

Wasn’t it just yesterday?

Image

© M.A. Perez, 2016, All Rights Reserved

About "Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit & Grace"

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Memorial Day Tribute

Memorial Day is reserved for those who can’t return a smile or a salute, not to mention the families and friends who have been left behind. We honor those American men and women who died during combat.

Freedom is NOT free.

All gave some … Some gave all.13256452_10154233120853588_2361098276139815490_n

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Cinco Ranch Ladies Book Club

CRLCBookclub

Such an honor and a privilege to be invited to this incredible, fun group of ladies!

I met Janice Bigras at one of my book signings a few months ago. As soon as she read my book, she contacted me. Little did I know, she coordinated a fantastic book club in Katy.

It was a pure delight to be surrounded by fans who had read my story and were engaging. They listened to every word and asked thought-provoking questions. They thanked me for being brave (imagine that), for sharing my story, and for inspiring others.

This journey is a dream come true. What is my story about? It depicts a girl’s refusal to be defined by her environment as she seeks inner healing from the brokenness that we are all looking for. I believe you, too, will be touched and inspired. Remember that your yesterday does not have to define your tomorrow. I am living proof of that.

Make sure you order your copy today on Amazon or at any of your favorite online bookstores. I’m told they also make excellent gifts.

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Mother’s Day Tribute to the Women in my Family

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Becoming a Mom is watching your heart walk outside your body.

As I reflect on Mother’s Day, I am thinking about the mothers in my own family. Some of us had nurturing in our DNA; some never got the memo. Some of us got it down pat; some continue learning by trial and error. None of us is perfect or has it all together. But no matter what, our bloodline flows strong, and our hearts beat true. Children are a blessing. I believe as we look upon our children, young and old, the beating of our hearts never ceases to flutter. Some of us ease into our roles, and some of us, not so much. No one ever gave me a manual on Motherhood; even if they did, the writer most likely didn’t have children of their own. Why? Because we learn by experience, and we learn by trial and error.

As I gaze upon the eyes of each Mother represented here, I see the sadness of some unanswered prayers, worries about tomorrow, regrets of yesteryear, and the fear of failure. But I also see love, joy, perseverance, tenderness, belonging, pride, and hope for the future — a better tomorrow.

One thing my mother always said is worth repeating: You can have ten fathers, but only one mother.

Mothers, stand in the gap for your children. No matter what, never give up on them. And in our twilight years, may our children never give up on us.

 © M.A. Pérez 2016, All Rights Reserved

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Glamorous? Not so Much: My Life as an Author

12932601_1167941376590318_6157266493608052874_n2.jpgI published my memoirs just last year. I’ve been fortunate enough to meet some wonderful people along the way who’ve become fans of my work. I was thrilled when they asked for my autograph and wanted their pictures taken with me. I love feedback. I am touched when a reader shares how my story has inspired them. I feel honored and validated. Sure, it feeds my ego; it blows me away. And when I’m asked to attend a speaking engagement, a book club, or a ladies’ conference, it’s a humbling experience and never ceases to amaze me. But if I’m honest, stress also comes with the territory. I may sometimes be a nervous wreck and even lose my train of thought. I confess I don’t know what you see in me; I certainly haven’t forgotten from whence I’ve come from. I still notice my flaws. Don’t laugh, but I don’t even like watching myself on video, let alone listening to myself via audio.

This is all still a learning curve for me. You see: there’s a vast difference between writing and public speaking. In writing, I can structure sentences and reword phrases and paragraphs without interruptions to my heart’s content with pen and paper, or on the keyboard. I would venture to say that I am not the only wordsmith who feels this way. There are many other writers and authors out there just like me. We are not all best-selling authors. The truth is that an author’s life is not all glamorous. Neither will there be warm and fuzzy feelings in reading a not-so-good book review about your work (ask any author about that). We are mostly normal individuals–some more successful and polished than others–but none of us is perfect. We all go home and try to maintain a decent life in every way possible.

My life isn’t always about sitting pretty on top of the world, riding high horses. My husband is a general contractor with rough hands because he prefers doing most projects himself. This line of work is abased and abound. Although his knees and back suffer the consequences and take on a beating, he takes pride in his craft. He is meticulous and thoroughly enjoys the work. Our eldest daughter is his faithful assistant. When not out on the field with him, she assists me with my writing projects and promotes my book. She is quite savvy in the social media department and is my traveling companion to monthly book signings. I appreciate her. She is the lady behind the camera who makes me look good.

I hold a full-time, 45-hour-a-week sales job answering calls all day. My mind sometimes wanders, wishing I were writing or vacationing, but alas, reality hits me in the rear and I have work to do! Believe it or not, my family and I also provide 24-hour care to a precious 105-year-old saint of God. In caring for her, we definitely don’t want to cause her any additional discomfort or needless pain. But as we tend to her personal needs, such as lifting, bathing, and changing an adult, much more fragile than before, it’s neither easy nor always pleasant. Some years ago, we made a pact. We promised Elizabeth we’d care for her to the best of our abilities until the end. Not everyone can do this. I believe God gives us the grace to do so. I’ve written about Elizabeth before. She teaches me about life. She is God’s gift to us, but she swears it’s the other way around.

So what am I saying? An author’s life is not necessarily glamorous. What is it, then, you ask? I will tell you that since becoming a published author, I have found it quite rewarding and fulfilling.

While sharing my story, time after time, I’ve noticed that many are brought to tears. And then as I listen to their heart, my own tears flow. Is it planned? No. It just happens. Tears bring a sweet release and cleanse the soul. Oh, it’s easy to laugh with others (and I do love to laugh). But when was the last time you wept with someone? When was the last time you’ve impacted someone and knew you’ve made a difference in his or her life? I have also shed tears of joy. Then my makeup runs, leading me to freshen up before my daughter happily snaps away with her camera.

Yes, my life may not be as glamorous as you would think, but my life has been enriched.

This is my joy. This is my passion.

I remain grateful for all who have been part of my journey.

© M.A. Pérez 2016, All Rights Reserved

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About "Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit & Grace"

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If I Had Known …

If I had known then what I know now,

I would have stopped the clock and savored every precious moment.

Instead, I found myself encumbered with the daily task of trying to keep afloat in being a mother.

If I had known then what I know now,
I would have frozen time just to gaze upon your little chest, rising and falling with every heartbeat while you slept peacefully in your crib.

If I had known then what I know now,
I would have sung more lullabies while rocking you on my lap, nestled in my arms, given you more kisses, and chased away all nightmares.

I’d have tickled you harder, squeezed you tighter, laughed with you louder, and played silly games with you longer.

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I would have taken more walks in the park, built many sand castles, eat more ice cream cones with sprinkles, dug for the best sea shells, rode on all the merry-go-rounds, climbed every rock, smelled every flower, played catch more, run through the rain puddles, taken more photos and captured every single moment with you!

I was needed when you were small; you relied upon me then. If only I could now, I would hold you closer still, wipe your every teardrop, chase your every fear, and never let you down.

But the tide has turned, and I could only watch from a distance. The sun has set and is hidden beyond the horizon. My silent tears serve as a constant reminder that times are fleeting.
With every hour. Every minute. Every second.

My heart swells with pride to see that you, my children,
have blossomed and matured.

But if I had known then what I know now … I would have done things differently. I would have hushed the madness with all the hustle and bustle sooner, and cherished those magic moments when you were small, to cradle you in my arms forever and never let you go.

© M.A. Perez, All Rights Reserved

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My 2015 Book Signing Events

In the beginning…. 


Girls Night Out University – Freedom Center Church

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Houston Authors Bash – 2015

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MenilFest


Howard Partridge – Round Table

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Glow Worm Bookstore


The Book Nook


Kroger (Sweetwater)


Kroger (Richmond)

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Kroger (Rosenberg)

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Mugz Coffe Bar

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Half-Price Books


Barnes & Noble


Kroger (Sugar Land)

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River Oaks Bookstore


Sweetwater Country Book Club

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Texas Book Festival in Austin


 

Kroger (Rosenberg)

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Kroger (Rosenberg)


Glow Worm Bookstore


Kroger (Katy)

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Just a reflection of some of last year’s book signing events. I got the pleasure of meeting and mingling with a few awesome people with hearts the size of Texas! Living my dream; spreading the message: Your yesterday does not have to dictate your tomorrow – I, ladies and gentlemen, am living proof of that.

 

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Match Made from Heaven

wedding

It’s hard to fathom that we’ve reached a milestone. Come April 6th, we have been married for twenty-two amazing years.

From the beginning, I knew I could rely on you. For the first time, I didn’t have to face my struggles alone. When you vowed in becoming my soulmate, you stood up to the plate in becoming a loving daddy to my children. Although the roads have been bumpy, the ride has been exhilarating.

The route may not always be smooth, but the pathway is attainable because of your steadfastness. With every twist and turn, I find strength while learning to lean on your shoulders. In your arms, there is a shelter in the midst of the rainstorms and warmth from the frigid winds.

You believed in me before I believed in myself. I am not afraid to be me when I am with you. Your laughter is music to my ears. When I look at you, I see the love in your eyes still twinkling … for me.

I want to thank you, babe, for all the years by my side. I pray that God grants us many more to come. I appreciate you, admire you, and love you more today than I did yesterday. I thank God for making us one, knowing that together we will weather the storms.

Your soothing voice calms my fears; your gentle touch chases away my tears.
Your strength is my abiding force; your soothing words, are my guiding source.

© M.A. Perez 2016, All Rights Reserved

He’s not perfect. You aren’t either, and the two of you will never be perfect. But if he can make you laugh at least once, causes you to think twice, and if he admits to being human and making mistakes, hold onto him and give him the most you can. He isn’t going to quote poetry, he’s not thinking about you every moment, but he will give you a part of him that he knows you could break. Don’t hurt him, don’t change him, and don’t expect for more than he can give. Don’t analyze. Smile when he makes you happy, yell when he makes you mad, and miss him when he’s not there. Love hard when there is love to be had. Because perfect guys don’t exist, but there’s always one guy that is perfect for you.
~ Bob Marley

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