Tag Archives: Musing

May 7, 2024 · 10:38 PM

Dear Mama,

My heart is heavy thinking about you today. It doesn’t seem possible that it’s been a year since you’ve been gone. One of the hardest things was letting go and relinquishing you in God’s hands. He took you home on Mother’s Day around 3 pm. I believe you received the best Mother’s Day gift ever. It was difficult to see you in pain, a prisoner in your own body laid up in that bed. I never gave up on you, Mama! But I had to let you go. You had suffered enough.

In the end, friends and family came together for a celebration of life in honor of you. I’m sure the Lord allowed you a glimpse over this side of heaven, to see your beautiful flowers and hear the music selection. I know you would have been pleased and touched by what was said on your behalf. You were loved. And you are sorely missed.

I think about you often, especially during the holidays. You were always a vital part of our household, sitting at the dinner table, surrounded by family, chatter, and participating in delicious home-cooked meals. I think about you whenever I cook one of your favorites. I’m glad I can look back at some photos and see you grinning with your plate full! I loved to make you smile. Whenever I saw a pretty blouse or piece of jewelry to buy for you, I knew that this pleased you. Even bringing you a banana split or a vanilla shake did the trick.

Reflecting back, my heart is also heavy for the times I grew impatient with you. I had tried to express how sorry I was for any harsh words spoken out of frustration between us. I’m grateful that our God is merciful, and His grace covers us. We were far from being the perfect mother-and-daughter role model; our words weren’t always laced with honey, but we were quick to forgive each other. After all, you were my Mama, and I remained your little girl.

You know you went with us to Miami. I took some of your remains and scattered them alongside Grandma & Grandpa, and my baby sister we lost so long ago. You always wanted to be near them. I know this was more healing for my benefit, but I wanted you to know I hadn’t forgotten.

Oh, Mama, you have a precious great-great-granddaughter now! You would be tickled-pink and all over her! She was born three months after your passing, two days before my birthday.

Mama. You. Were. Right. You can have ten fathers but only one mother! Mother’s Day is around the corner. I still imagine you sitting at the dinner table across from me. But your chair is empty. You are gone but will remain in our hearts until we meet again.

I hope you know, you are loved beyond words. Missed beyond measure.

With all my love, your little girl.

I also took Mama to Puerto Rico with me …

Philippians 1:3 “I thank my God every time I remember you.”

Filed under Mama

Tagged as forgiveness, God's grace, Mama, mercy, mother-daughter relationships, Mothers Day, Musing, personal, reflection, role model

March 5, 2024 · 7:21 AM

While Donny was still in the VA Hospital for alcohol abuse, a wonderful family of five frequently invited the children and me to their home. Susan and I knew each other from church. She had such a bubbly personality, and I was immediately drawn to her. Her husband Fred, born and raised in Germany—had a dry sense of humor but made me feel comfortable. After Donny completed treatment, they invited us over for dinner. Our husbands got to finally meet. We shared a delicious meal at the dinner table and the men engaged in small talk, while I marveled in silence, taking it all in.

My husband back then, the pursuer, continually sought after Fred’s company, offering his help with any home repairs and carpentry projects. Those two quickly hit it off and talked among themselves freely. They spent most weekends on Fred’s aluminum boat fishing or hanging out at his lake house. They knew the struggles of alcohol and often shared stories about the victories and failures during their alone time. They discussed work, God, and family matters. Sometimes they simply shared a comfortable silence. Their understanding and respect for each other grew.

Friendships blossomed.

Bonds strengthened.

We wives were pleased. Susan and I often shared laughter mingled with tears as we prayed for our husbands, our children, and our community. We shared a common goal: We wanted so much more unity in our home. We celebrated as our families shared meals, barbecues, beach outings, and church activities. Just like family.

Excerpt from “Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit and Grace,” Chapter 37

Years later, Susan was there for me during abandonment and a painful but necessary divorce. Eventually, I picked up the pieces of my life and found renewed love with Mark, who soon became my faithful husband – my second chance at love and happiness. As time went on, some 30 years later, Susan became sick. Her family asked me to prepare a eulogy for her on their behalf, something I had NEVER done before then. Here is that story: https://maryaperez.com/2015/12/23/so-long-for-now/

Mama: My Valentine Gal in Heaven

Loved beyond words. Missed beyond measure.

3 Comments

Filed under Valentine Mama

Tagged as Mama, Missing Mama, Musing, Valentine

July 24, 2023 · 9:19 PM

Missing my Mama

“Grief, I’ve learned, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.” Jaime Anderson

Missing you, Mama.

On Borrowed Time

How time flies.

We’ve been caring for Mama in our home for the past 3 years. After spending the holidays with us like she’d normally do, she never returned to her apartment. Hubby and I noticed how frail she had become and the realization hit us both that she was going to need more assistance than what she’d been getting living on her own.

We do what we have to.

Our adult daughter, who also lives with us, is a tremendous help and caregiver for Mom, as well. My husband and I work full-time. Even with care providers, the bath-nurses, and medical folk checking in on Mom on a weekly basis, my daughter fills in the gap and then some.

Last year, after her doctor’s visit and blood work results, Mom’s doctor ordered that she be admitted to the hospital. Her blood pressure and blood count were dangerously low! During the four nights there, she received two units of blood and an iron infusion before returning home, along with her energy and appetite back! A year later, in August, it happened again – she was hospitalized and released. Soon after, I got medical POA, so when the repeated episode occurred a month later, this time, thankfully, Mom agreed to have an endoscopy procedure instead of coming home.

She had a mass in her stomach.

The dreaded cancer.

We cried, reminisced, and prayed.

Dr. Solomon would be Mom’s surgeon. We prayed non-stop for this physician and witnessed how he used wisdom in dealing with Mom’s delicate procedure beforehand. We placed our trust in him, knowing that the God we served–the Great Physician–was in control.

On the day of surgery, my husband, and children joined me. As they wheeled her off to surgery, I could see flecks of fear swimming in her eyes. I hoped she found strength in mine, howbeit my heart was heavy. You see, I became that little girl again. And I cried out to her, “Momma, come back to me!”

We waited in the waiting area for half a day, even when her surgery was over and she was in Post-Opt room. The good news, cancer did not seem to have spread to any other area in her body. However, they removed 80% of her stomach.

Mama remained in ICU for a couple of days and then moved to a private room. I remained with her spending the night as much as I could, giving her my love and support every chance. We have always had a complex relationship–she and I–but no matter what, she is still my mama and I will always be her little girl. ( To read more of my journey, click here… )

Today is Mama’s 88th birthday. Yesterday, Sunday, the family joined us to celebrate her life, surrounding her with our love and prayers. We wore matching T-shirts to honor her. I wanted her to feel our love and let her know how special she is. She is the matriarch of the family.

Today, Mom is being moved to Rehab for a few weeks for therapy and to become stronger. We continue to wait for the final pathology report, trusting the Lord will complete the work He has started in her; she is in His hands.

Life is fleeting. Let go of the petty things. Treasure your loved ones while they are still around.

I am comforted in knowing that when I am weak then my God is strong, and His grace is sufficient for me! Thank you, Lord, that your mercies are new every morning. Thank you, Lord, for another day.

8 Comments

Filed under gastric surgery, Personal

Tagged as cancer, Dr. Brett Solomon, Family, gastric surgery, inspiration, mom, Musing, personal, Prayer, the Great Physician

January 31, 2018 · 11:11 PM

Boricuas

We visited my paternal grandparents. My grandpa was Don Angel (pronounced “Annhel”), and my grandma, Doña María. Upon our arrival, we politely greeted them the way Daddy had taught us to, by asking for their blessing in Spanish:

“¿Bedición?”

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“¡Dios te bendiga!” they answered, opening their arms, smothering us with bear hugs and wet kisses.

Abuelo was born in 1908 and Abuela in 1907. Both were born in Utuado Puerto Rico and married in their early twenties, ultimately having ten children. Abuela stayed home attending to her brood while Abuelo supported his family as a farmer. (Rumor has it he made a little Moon Shine too). On twenty-five acres, he tended to bananas, tobacco, and coffee crops. He raised chickens and goats and even owned cows that he milked.

Daddy favored Abuelo; everyone said those two could be brothers.

(An excerpt from Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit and Grace)

My Reasons for Writing

One of my cousins from across the miles posed a couple of great questions, giving me food for thought. He asked:

Why do you write? And why do you write about the family?

My answer to him:

First of all, I write because I know I have a story to tell. As a kid, eventually, I discovered we were dirt poor. In my teens looking back, I realized that I was neglected and forced to grow up too fast. I was ashamed of my childhood and bitter for being my mama’s mother. As I “matured,” settled down, married, and had children of my own, along the way I found I was a stronger person because of some of the things that I endured as a child.

Once I embraced the God of my grandparents, I became a much better person, too. NOT that I had it all together; I still had a few things to learn. But I learned that it was much better to let go of the bitterness and to forgive than to hold onto the junk.

I also learned that I didn’t have to be a product of my environment! I could rise above the ashes like a phoenix and become so much better. That was my freedom — still is — and God has called us to liberty, not to be in prison. Sure I made some mistakes along the way, but I learned from them as well. It starts with a made-up mind! While I’ve managed to confront my past, I believe my past hasn’t spoiled me, but has prepared me for the future. I may not be perfect but whenever I stumble, I can wipe the crud off and walk on. I share my story that I might help one person – and if I have done that then I have done a good thing and God gets the glory. Photo Credit: LifeOverCancerBlog.typepad.com

I mention family because the little girl growing up — although she may have felt like she was alone most times — she was not an orphan and did not live on an island unto herself. There were others around who helped to nurture her in one fashion or another, even, the antagonists in her story. And yes, some were heroes. She cannot tell her story without mentioning those she looked up to. For it to be truthful, she had to address some real and raw emotions and mentioned the flaws — the good, the bad, and the ugly.

The story is not fiction. It is written about how she remembers the events that took shape in her life as a child, a teenager, and into her adulthood. All the memories do not take her to a happy place. She has had to dig deep to find them. To some, those “happy” places may be simple and insignificant, but to her, they were her lifeline.

His response:

I am keeping this to remind me what it takes to be selfless.

Thanks

I did not expect THAT answer

7 Comments

Filed under Memoir, writing

Tagged as Family, inspiration, memoir, memories, Musing, personal, rambling, writing

Video

Precious Moments

This simple video here will mean a lifetime of precious memories …

You see, Daddy is in the beginning stages of forgetfulness (I don’t like the word dementia). While his short-term memory may be failing, he still can recall things that took place several years ago. Those memories are forever embedded within the recesses of his memory bank. Daddy has always been a storyteller, just visit here https://maryaperez.com/2013/06/07/i-no-spic-inglish/

On my last visit, it dawned on me that I should record him recanting one of his many stories regarding his first job, and also touch on the quirkiness of that particular story. His mind was fully intact, and if he ventured off, I easily steered him back on track. After we were done, I replayed the recording back to him. As he watched it, he became animated with emotions as if the entire event became alive and he was actually reliving the story. He pointed with eyebrows raised, agreed with what was being said, laughed, and even had tears in his eyes! He looked up at me and said, “When your daddy is gone, you’ll always have this to remember, eh?”

Back home in Texas, every time I play this video, it brings back tears to my eyes. I realize the possibility that in the days to come Daddy may struggle with his memory more and more. I think often about my mama and other elderly members of the family. I wonder if we would record them interacting and then play back those recordings to them, that maybe it can help our loved ones remember. Just like hearing a song we haven’t heard in a while and the way it will bring us back to a certain place in time. One thing that does not work, is to belittle them because they forgot or behaved in a way than they normally would. I watched how when one of us tried to correct Daddy when he said something he shouldn’t have said, how it would escalate into such a ruckus. I noticed if the behavior was ignored or directed into something else positive, the drama pretty much ended. Sort of like in dealing with children …

His eyes still twinkle with glee, and the mirth in his thick Puerto Rican accent, combined with his animated personality is my daddy – I will love and cherish him forever!

7 Comments

December 6, 2017 · 7:50 PM

October 11, 2017 · 8:41 PM

Celebrating Mama

Someone said, crying is a way your eyes speak when your mouth can’t explain how broken your heart is.

We recently celebrated Mama’s birthday. While the company and the food were great, I saw Mama in a different light. It pained me to see her that way. Although she had a smile on her face, her eyes reflected pain and discomfort.

Mama is aging and more feeble with time. She’s more of a shut-in these days and she can barely move. Many thoughts go through my head, along with memories of my difficult childhood past. But that was then and this is now. Mama is Mama – and she’s my Mama. I’ll take her any way I can get her – flaws and all. Hell, I even have flaws! But what troubles me is not what she and I have gone through together; what troubles me is the present. She is fearful of saying what ails her. She doesn’t like the idea of going to a hospital, nor the thought of possibly living in a nursing home one day. She’d rather suffer alone than communicate about her ailments in a doctor’s ear. I don’t know what to do. She’s never been an easy patient and she is stubborn.

I. Feel. Hopeless.

I’m praying that the Lord shows us what to do and for Mama to be at peace. I just want her to know that she’s loved and that we want only the best for her. I need her to feel safe and secure and to know beyond a shadow of a doubt; she does not have to fear. Fear has torment. It will consume the mind and crush any hope one might dare to have. Fear troubles the heart and makes one weary.

I believe God is bigger than our fears. I believe He wants us to cast all of our troubles to Him and not grow weary. We are not immune to the sufferings of this life, but because of the Lord, there is always hope. All He asks is that we put our trust in Him and lay our burdens down at His feet. He says to trust Him and lean not to our own understanding. Not always an easy feat, I admit.

Words may escape me at times. I may grow impatient and miscommunicate my true intentions; my grit and courage may fall short. But while I have breath in my being I will never give up on the goodness of God! We are a work in progress. I know He will make a way. Look how far He has brought us – He’s not finished with any of us yet!

I. Feel. Hopeful.

I choose to allow forgiveness to remain in my heart. While Mama is still here, I will let her know that she is valued and loved. While it’s true our roles may have been reversed, she is still my Mama. And you know what?

I. Still. Need. My. Mama.

So, Mama, I celebrate you. Hand in hand, we will find a way to make everything all right.

I. Love. You.

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“The moment I started it, I had echoes of ‘The Glass Castle’. This is recommended for anyone who loved Walls’ memoirs, as they have some strong parallels.” – Kath Cross (blogger).

10 Comments

Filed under Birthday Mama

Tagged as Christianity, familia, Family, forgiveness, inspiration, Musing, personal, reflections, Relationships

July 12, 2017 · 9:41 PM

Pathway to Tears

I consider myself a tough cookie. After all, aren’t I a survivor? I’ve survived a few hard knocks along life’s path: A broken home by age three, followed by poverty, hunger, homelessness, alcoholism, neglect, loss of a sibling at age nine, two near-drowning incidents, in a car wreck, juvenile detention home, taunting, brawls, racism, alternative schooling, marriage to a ruthless man twice my age, bearing four children by the time I was twenty-two—three by cesarean—physical abuse, verbal abuse, emotional abuse, betrayal, hopelessness, despair, rejection, abandonment, being shot at (he missed), divorce, single-parenting …

BUT God!

Howbeit, there is a softer side to me as well. This thing called “tears”. A family member has even called me sentimental. I have been known to cry after losing a beloved pet, even an insect (hey, they make pets too, at least they did for me when I was a child). I recently cried when my husband surprised me with flowers after having a taxing day. I cried – or blubbered rather – after shooting my first deer. I may cry during weddings, engrossed in a book, listen to a song, or when watching a movie. I especially cry when I hear a newborn’s first cry, whether in real life or on TV, I can’t help it, the tears flow. I sometimes cry while laughing at something funny, opening up presents, when saying goodbye, praying, or worshiping and singing in church. Seeing majestic mountains, colorful rainbows, the stillness of the ocean, a fluffy kitten, or a hummingbird nestling nearby can make me cry. I even cried when I heard my grandchild call me “Mimi” for the first time. And yes, at times I cry when I’m hurt, scared, tired, or angry.

But I don’t want you to know that. Because I am tough. Not weak. Remember?

Now I’m not much of a horse person, but I know enough to know that a horse is full of grace and strength with every muscle, tendon, and ligament working in unison to support a rider at galloping speed. Yet, that same powerful, majestic horse is controlled by a bit in its mouth and will move in the direction the rider wants to go.

When I read about Moses, he was the meekest man who walked the earth. When I read about Jesus, He was all-powerful, yet kept that power in check. His meekness was not a weakness.

So, I say: It’s okay. It’s okay to let your guard down at times and reveal your softer, sensitive self. It doesn’t mean you’re a softy, a weakling, or a pushover. Power under control means self-control, and that is a virtue. After all, we are human with God-given emotions. Besides, God. Bottles. Our. Tears.

And because God loves us so much, I would venture to say:

Sometimes God cries.

Thank you, Lord, for loving me for me.