She is pounding on the counter & hollering, but I think it’s all a waste of energy. Mom knows Maruja is deaf and she is in her room – No way will she hear mom’s yelling!

But I guess this is one way to vent-out her frustrations.

I go get Maruja from her room while mom keeps yelling. “You’ve burned another dinner. How many times do I have to tell you! Don’t leave the stove on and unattended.”

Maruja has got to be in her late 40′s. She is very timid, deaf and talks w/a bad lisp.

She has black straggly hair, a bulbous nose, rough complexion and in my eyes, the only thing missing is a big hairy, wart on the chin to complete the image I have created of her.

Its obvious why we all call her ‘Maruja la Bruja’ (Maruja the Witch)

Needless to say that I don’t very much like her and her cooking…

AGHH – I hate it!

I get Maruja to follow me into the kitchen & then I run off to the living room to watch Bugs Bunny. Maruja enter the kitchen, sees the smoke & runs over to the range to see what has happened. She gasps as she realizes what mom is yelling about.

I turn up the volume on the TV as I know what’s gonna come next…

I love this re-run! It’s Broom-stick Bunny.

Witch Hazel is preparing “pretty potion” tea for Bugs, who showed up – trick or treating – as a witch (in Halloween costume) & starts doing Bug’s hair. I love this line from Witch Hazel :

“Tell me, who undoes your hair? Why, it’s absolutely hideous!”

But the laughter & jokes do not drown out mom’s yelling.

I guess mom has just about had it! Mom works long days & does not have time to cook or clean house and look after us kids. That’s why she hired Maruja in the first place!

But her cooking is eating up lots more time then mom expected. Maruja’s cooking is burned about 70% of the time anyway, but what difference does it make – it tastes awful to begin with and only dad & Danny seem to like it.

I don’t even thinks its edible!

I guess that it does not help that we kids don’t like her much and play tricks on her. Mom sure is pissed!

Not sure who turned up the temperature on the stove, but I think this time, it did the trick. Maybe the trick was just too good…

See, now Nancy is having to cook lunch & dinners; Patty gets to sweep & set the table; Danny has to mop the floors & do dishes; and I have to clean my room…

This summer, it looks like we are going to have to take care of ourselves.

My mother is a bit upset because she needs to finish this order! We have over 300 garments that need to be completed this weekend and some more that are still on the cutting table and have not even been counted yet!

Marga is feeling sick today. She was throwing up and today is not a good pregnant day for her. Daniel is out making deliveries and I’ve been at this machine since 3:00, when I got out of school. Marga starts complaining “mom, I’m not feeling well & I think I’m gonna go home.” Sure enough Marga goes to the bathroom & throws up again.

“Go home and lay down, hopefully that would help.” my mother tells her.

Marga heads out the door & a few minutes later comes back in. “What happened?” mom asks.

“I can’t even fit behind the steering wheel to drive myself home!” Marga replies.

“Well there is nobody here to drive you home!” Mom suggests “Can you stay & lay down on the sofa?”

“No mom, I am really sick & need to go home.” Marga replies.

Photo © 2010 Susie of Arabia

“I’ll drive you home!”

See I can’t stand being in the factory & sewing all evening is not what I want for myself tonight. So I will do whatever it takes to get out of here!

“But you don’t even have a license” Marga replies.

“so what! I’ve watch Danny drive the bug. I’m sure I can do it! It’s only three blocks anyway & you can’t very well walk home in your condition.”

See this was a good argument & I think I got both Mom & Marga convinced. Marga did not have a comeback. So off we go! I put it into gear & let go of the clutch. Bam! the car jerks as it stalls. Again I turn it on and Marga instructs me to let go of the clutch slowly. I drove down the street at 10MPH – the car hopping and tires chirping, but I’m heading out.

I don’t think I even made it up into third gear, but we were on our way.

I can see our street from here, so how much trouble can I get into in three short blocks. Sure enough, I turn onto Dawson St & head down towards our house in the middle of the street. I took the turn a little too quick & by this point I’m up to 20MPH.

“slow down, the driveway is coming up…” Marga tells me. We reach the middle of the block. I slow down & start to turn into our driveway. I step on the break and…

And nothing!!! – the car isn’t stopping!!!

“Stop the car!” Marga yells

“I’m trying & nothing is happening! What do I do!!!”

Again Marga yells “Stop the caaaaar!” We are heading right towards the chain link fence & I can see what is next…

My life flashed before my eyes! I don’t want to think about it, but I get the image of the bug parked on top of mom’s garden, the car with it’s ass sticking out of the front wall of the house.

I don’t think mom is gonna like this mess! I closed my eyes, braced for impact and prayed for the best.

Suddenly, I hear the car screech to a halt! In an instant, Marga reaches for the emergency break & yanked it – 1″ from the edge of the fence!!!

PHEW! that was close. We look at each other with this face of amazement. Marga face is pale white & she starts doing her Lamaze breathing technique & me shitting in my pants in total disbelief.

We laughed so hard that my gut was hurting till the next day.

We never spoke of this to mom or anybody, but once in a while mom yells at Danny for the “wild skid marks on the driveway.” She smacks him in the head while he counters with “Mom, I didn’t do that!”

Anyway the secret is out now! and I’m sure glad I learned that, when stopping apply pressure to the clutch as well…

Otherwise you will hit the fence!

She had this dream to get the whole family to the United States and people in her town did not understand why she wanted to leave. They would make fun of her and even call her names.

When we got here, she remained focused. Still worked her fingers-to-the-bone so time to make friends was not a top priority. Looking back, I can see that her tough character & her focus were a way to protect herself from people’s opinions.

Yesterday she had an argument with the wife of a deacon. Mom had been asking around if any of the ladies needed a seamstress to make dresses for Christmas. My mother explained “I’m starting a new business…” and the deacon’s wife interrupted her.

“Why do you consider yourself to be better then the rest of us?” She complained to my mother.

“Isn’t a job at a factory good enough for you?”

But I know a ‘job’ is not enough for my mother. Needless to say mom butt heads with this lady and several other ladies from the church group.

But mom just lets this go…

A few weeks back, this lady was doing a collection of unwanted clothes for the poor & needy. My father committed himself to donate clothes. Over the weeks leading up to Christmas, we had donated several bags of clothes, that we did not use anymore.

At the Wednesday service before Christmas, the ladies’ church group made one last request for more unwanted clothes. “There is a desperate need for these items…” was the last plea. Nobody raised their hands, and at the last minute my father raised his. Once again, he committed the whole family.

Now for Saturday service, we dragged a big bag of clothes with us on the train. We carried it for the 1hr commute to the Adventist Church. There my father handed the bag over to this lady. Danny gave up a green hooded, parka. It’s only problem was that it was old & had holes in the pockets. I gave up my US Navy blue Pea coat. It only had a small tear in the elbow and mom gave up a nice brown coat with a white fur collar. Even though the fur was a little torn and dirty, she liked it. begrudgingly she too gave it up for those more needy…

All because my dad said “the poor do not have clothes to keep them warm this winter and you have several!”

Saturday church service was beautiful and the Christmas theme left us feeling that giving up our items for the benefit of others was a good idea.

It is what a “good Christian” should do – right?
But now walking out of Saturday service, we see a difference in the floor mats the church is using. Stretched out on the floor were my mom’s fur-collar coat; my blue jacket & Danny’s parka there on the floor for people to wipe their feet.

This cut deep, like a knife, straight thru my mother’s heart. She had allowed herself to be vulnerable and allow people in. But now this lady had taken a direct hit at mom. I don’t know why, envy, anger, jealousy…

But again my mother lets this go and just moves on – like always. This time the pain was a little deeper.

A neighbor saw us walking & offered us a ride home. Mom was quiet all the way home and nobody else dare break the silence. All we could do was listen to Delta Dawn playing on the radio. I guess mom being vulnerable is now like a faded rose from days gone by…

When we got home, mom went straight up to her room. I hope we can find a way to cheer her up before Christmas.

As soon as I finish off these hems, the dresses go to Nancy. She trims off the excess threads that may be hanging and cleans the garment. From there Nancy will pass them off to dad for a steam ironing. Then Daniel will place them on a hanger & bag them.

We need to finish the last fifteen dresses and the order will be ready to go. The order is finalized by around 3:30 and Daniel needs to drive into the city – into Chinatown to deliver the order.

I lied to my mom. Telling her that I did not have homework to do so that she can let me go with Daniel. We loaded up the bug and off we go. The car is so overloaded with garments that my seat on the passenger side is pushed so close to the front that my knees are hitting the dashboard.

We drive north on the New Jersey Turnpike. Get off on the Holland Tunnel Exit No 14 and cross into the City right before 5:45pm – right before they closed the receiving dock. This order was a test of 50 garments to see if mom would get the full order of 1000 garments. If we were to miss the deadline, she would not have gotten a chance at it, so luckily we made it in time. He goes upstairs to make the delivery, while I sit in the car keeping an eye on it.

Now we can drive back into New Jersey without a worry. Getting back in the car, we drive uptown and towards the Lincoln Tunnel.

“Daniel! where are we going?” I question.

“We have one more stop before we can go home.” Daniel tells me. “We need to drop off a sewing order to Sra. Garcia in West New York.”

I lay back – now that I have some leg room – and decide to take a nap. When I wake up, I hear Daniel playing some brand new songs from Billy Joel’s latest album, The Stranger. Sitting in traffic, we are enjoying the whole album

As we pull up to Sra. Garcia’s house, the song “Only the Good Die Young” comes on and I just realized why we drove north for an extra 1/2hr. This is where Maria lives!

There she is walking home in her Catholic School uniform. Daniel is so excited.

“Come out Virginia, don’t let me wait…”

“Pass me that bundle from the back seat!” Daniel asks me.

He puts the bundle on his lap and brushes his hair. I reach for the door handle & he stops me. “No, I need you to wait here & keep an eye on the car.” OK I guess I can use this time to actually get my homework done.

As Daniel goes into the house, I turn on the overhead light & the radio.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=NJBoHa3GArA

I go back to listening as Billy Joel continue… You Catholic girls start much too late… But sooner or later it comes down to fate. I might as well be the one…”

I completed my homework & am still waiting. I’ve listened to the whole tape and its now repeating again.

Ice is forming on the windows, from the cold outside. Daniel is still not back and I’m starting to get pissed.

“They say there’s a heaven for those who will wait
Some say it’s better but I say it ain’t
I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints
the sinners are much more fun…

you know that only the good die young
thats what i said
i tell ya
only the good die young…”

“What is taking so long. It’s freezing in here!” I think to myself. I coverup with some of the fabrics and doze off for a bit. Then I am awaken by Daniel banging on the glass! I freak out not realizing it’s him banging. He walks in with a smile on his face. It looks like he might have gotten a kiss from Maria – but he’s not talking.

“She’s a nice girl!” I can’t kiss & tell.” He replies as he pulls out into the street.

Its now 9pm and away we go! We are heading home having accomplished more then we had originally planned.

After being in the house for only 5 minutes, mom yells at Joe. “What are you doing out in the cold with that pneumonia? Oh my God! your voice is ready to go!!”

“It’s not a pneumonia! It’s only a cold. Don’t worry” Joe replies. But he does not know my mom. She left the room and we went back to hanging out. We’re watching TV and just talking but we are having a good time hanging out with Joe.

I don’t know why all the neighbors don’t like Joe. He is a good guy with a bad reputation – no matter that it’s unearned. My dad does not like him, but my mom does. She says that she sees the kindness in his heart.

“Knock, Knock” my mother says as she opens the door of my room. “Take your shirt off!” She demands of Joe, in her broken English. “What?” Joe replies with a puzzled look.

“Don’t even try to stop her Joe. When she has her mind set, nothing will stop her.” Danny tells Joe. “Just surrender, It’ll be easier!”
MY mom showed up with a container of ‘Mentol Chino’ & a stack of newspapers. She rubs the mentol chino on his chest and on his back. She lays it on thick so that the newspaper will be able to stick to it.

The room has a strong Menthol smell and Joe is complaining of the smell and that the fumes are stinging his eyes.

“Dile que no joda!” My mom yells out. “What did she say?” Joe asks. “Stop complaining and let her continue…” Danny replies, leaving out the curse word.

Now my mother grabs the newspaper. She plasters it on his chest like if she was hanging wallpaper. She rubs it in – almost as if she was trying to rub the newsprint off onto his chest.

She continues with more of the same on his back. “Now put your shit back on!” She instructs Joe. Sure enough, Joe is now doing whatever my mother instructs.

She now leaves the room & Joe is just standing there like an overstuffed scarecrow. He has newspaper spilling out the neck & arms of the T-shirt.

My mother walks back in, this time with a thick wool blanket that we brought over from Ecuador. This blanket is made of Llama wool and is made by the local Indians. I have many memories of how it kept me warm during those cold winter nights in the Bronx. We used to have nights when the heat would not work & this blanket was the only thing that kept us from freezing our ass of. The whole family would sit under this blanket to stay warm & watch TV.

My mother wraps the blanket tightly around Joe. The only thing hanging out the side is his hands and off the top is his head. Joe is now stiff as a scarecrow.

“Now leave!” My mother instructs Joe! “Mi’jo, Go home & sleep wrapped in the blanket. Don’t take the blanket off no matter how hot you get.”

My mother treated Joe just like she would her sons. She was truly concerned for him. Joe does not question nor says anything but gives Danny a look, as if to ask “What should I do now!?”

My Brother replies “GO & sweat your ass off!

The next morning Joe returns the wool blanket & thanks my mother for taking care of him. He does not have a mother & she has made him feel as if she was his mother.

“Thank you” is all he says – his voice no longer hoarse or broken. “I feel much better.”

A few weeks ago I started drawing a highway on a regular sketch paper.

Sure enough I ran out of space on that paper & the highway just ended – going to nowhere. I added another piece and just continued the sketch. I ran out of space again & just added another piece.

This went on for days and even weeks. Alone sketching in my room, letting my mind wonder freely.

This reminds me of this lady, friend of the family, she lives up in NewPaltz, NY. When she used to live with us, she used to tell me…

“Don’t let anything stop you from getting what you want. Let your mind be free.
Nobody will ever take that away from you.”

So like this photograph, my sketches just grow & grow indefinitely. They seem to be random sketches, but taped together, it created a single image out of the many pieces.

Before I knew it – it was 10 pages wide x 10 pages long. I took down some posters from the wall and hung this up. It took the whole wall behind my bed.

That was 85″x110″ of paper with lines that in my imagination represented highways leading to somewhere. All those lines, stretching for miles, set my imagination free.

I was able to go anywhere I wanted and space was no limitation. Once I ran out of places to go all I had to do was add another piece of paper and I was set free again.

Anyway I had a quick breakfast, of milk & cereal, and went off to school feeling like that anyway. The whole day just seemed to drag along. In gym class, we played soccer with the shirts vs. no-shirts. I ended up on the no-shirts team and it was a bit too cool outside. My asthma started acting up and I am having a hard time breathing.

The weather outside was stormy and the gray clouds just loomed overhead like spectators, looking down into the lion’s den at the zoo, waiting for something to happen. Even worse, when I went to take a shower, the hot water refused to flow for me!

What a day!!!!

I’m just glad school is over and I can finally get the school day done now!

So as I drive home, the feeling of dread is still present and getting stronger. It pulsates and causes the veins in my neck to bulge. I don’t know why it’s there nor what is causing it, but it’s just strange.

I guess not strange enough! Because as I turn the corner onto our block, I see exactly what is causing this feeling.

There in the middle of the street, in front of our house, is a growing commotion. The neighbors are standing together as a group frozen in their tracks. The lights are still flashing on the patrol car and the crowd has an expression of disbelief. They’re standing there with their hands clasped over their mouths. All seen to have experienced a horrific moment together. They are sobbing as the rain falls on their shoulders.

Oh God don’t tell me something happened!

As I am parking the car, the girls from upstairs bang on my window. “Open this window!” they scream. “Dammit open it now!”

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“Baby Daniel got sick. He was found in the crib and he was not breathing! His little face was blue!” they explained loudly. “Come with us, we will drive you to the hospital!”

“Wait!” I shouted “I haven’t finished parking the car!”

“Dammit, don’t worry about the car! I’ll get my dad to park it! We have to go now!” They shout as they drag me towards their car.

I leave the keys in the car. The door open and the engine running. My lunchbox is open on the front seat and I think I spilled my Coke on the rug from all this commotion. I don’t know why, but I am not even a little worried.

“He’s going to be alright!” I reassure the girls. “Don’t panic. Everything will be OK, You’ll see.”

Looking back, I must have been out of it, since I was not worrying. But as I look at the speedometer, I noticed that she is driving over 50mph on the city streets. Now I am starting to worry and even a little scared!

They pull up to the front door of the Perth Amboy General Hospital’s Emergency Room and the electric doors slide open. We climb out of the car clumsily and almost fell out even before the car was in park.

We rush into the emergency room and immediately run into the patient’s area. I see my mom, Beth and my baby sister, Patty crying. By the look in their face, I can see that same feeling of dread – only deeper and more painful.

No question had to be asked. My mother’s strong hug told me everything! Beth and Patty also came over to create a group hug in the middle of the hall. While crying, my mother uttered these words: “Little Daniel just died.”

Oh God, Why!!!! How am I going to tell my brother his son is dead!

The terror of the moment just fills me. I wonder how my brother would react to the news. Then my thoughts and wanderings go to Beth. She had been taking a nap and when she woke up, found Little Danny face down in the crib. She had been alone in the house at the time. The terror of finding her son dead must be horrific for her!

She is so far from her home & her family. She finds herself surrounded by a bunch of strangers who now find themselves to serve as her family. This house isn’t her home. Oh My! She is so far from home…

Beth, I know you’re lonely and I hope you’ll be alright…

See every year the gifts we give him end up in the drawer and never gets opened. One year I gave him a pair of pajamas. He now has over 5 sets of pajamas in his drawer.

Another year, my brother gave him a tie for his church suits. His drawer now has several different ties. See having five kids, I guess you can’t wear or use every present you get. And I guess he tried to protect us by hiding this fact from us.

That is until the day my younger sister, Nancy, found the drawer and found the pajama she had given him, the year before. The grey and white stripes on the flannel still pristine wrapped in its original packaging. My mother was pissed and sarcastically jokes with him that he is creating a stock pile for his ‘next’ life back in Ecuador.

This of course caused a big argument between them. They yell at each other & scream that they have had enough of each other. But we all know that, hidden in the sarcasm & dry humor, mom sadly also knew that he will divorce her.

We, deep down inside, knew that dad will return to live in Ecuador and actually have a stock pile to take with him. Our feeling is that he is fulfilling his obligation as a husband & dad until the last one of us is old enough. That day he will move on. Maybe even get himself another wife & possibly even get himself another set of kids.

So anyway, I gave my dad Silly Putty – I love Silly Putty!!! Now I am hearing you say “What the heck…” and yes that’s exactly what he must be thinking. But you know what! He actually spent time playing with me. We molded stuff and even picked up the images off his ‘help wanted’ newsprint.

Just like Silly Putty, children pickup impressions from the environment and from the people in their lives.

How my dad behaved, that day, left a lasting impression on my life! Even though this day turned into an argument, the minute or two, he actually spent it with me stays with me. He’s never really done that before, but on his special day, he gave up those minutes for me.

This I will never forget!

You know kids in the neighborhood doing what kids are supposed to do – being innocent and having fun!

That is… all kids with the exception of little Peter. He is only 4 maybe 6 yrs old and his mom is really protective over him. The only times I see him out is when his mother takes a nap. He sneaks out of the house, not to play with us but to go to the gray house at the corner of Warren and Salem.

He skips and hops his way over to that house.

The gray house is the home of an older couple with no kids. The lady is quiet and goes to work six days a week. The man is gray-haired and seems to have retired early. Because he tends to the garden everyday and is always outside in his yard.

As we walk home from school, he greets us and offer us candy thru the bushes. My father is friends with this guy, but I find him to be very strange. I don’t know why but I am freaked out by him.

But Peter seems to like him enough to go to his house every week. He goes there by himself at least once a week and spends over an hour there.

One day I asked him “what do you do at his house all that time?” He replied, “We play games and eat candy.” But he would look away and not go into detail of what games they play together alone.

One day when he came out crying I asked him what happened. This time he did say that they danced to music and watched a movie that he did not like. The movie made him cry.

Yesterday my dad wanted to go visit the people in the gray house and he says that I have to go with him.

“No!” I replied “I’m not going!” But my dad insisted and we went anyway. My dad was going there to teach him the bible and wanted me to learn how to do it.

The house was dark. The furniture was wooden, stained dark brown, with a brown tweed fabric that even thought it was in good shape, always looked dirty. The walls were wood-panelled in a honey-colored stain. The grain was deep but looked worn from years of usage. The lighting was very dim with only table lamps lighting the immediate area.

I never understood why someone would choose to live in such darkness.

Anyway I asked my dad if I could leave. Finally after nagging him enough, he let me go. I rushed out the door so quickly. Later on my dad catches up to me and asks me “what happened back there?”

I finally broke down and told my dad what I felt. “I don’t like going to that house dad. Peter tells me that he does some weird things, dad! They play alone together and Peter sometimes comes out of that house crying.” My dad replied “What are you talking about?” He continued with “They are nice people, how do you know that Peter is telling the truth. You have to be sure of what you are saying before you judge anyone! You have to love thy neighbors no matter what you opinion of them.”

This is not unusual, dad never takes what I say seriously anyway. I wish I had someone to talk to, but my dad just won’t listen.

So today, I walked home alone and sure enough he was there working in his yard. He stops me by offering me my most favorite candy – a Three Musketeer bar. The words “love thy neighbor” ring in my head and I choose to give up my suspensions of him and accept him for who he is.

It was a mini bar and he said he had plenty more inside. We talked for a bit and he says “come inside & I will give you more Three Musketeers.”

The words “love thy neighbor” ring again so I accept his invitation and went inside.

No judgement!

Inside we played games and ate candy just like Peter said! Then about 45 minutes of playing he says…

“Can I teach it to you?”

He gets serious and says “the game is a secret though! It’s a big kids game – I’m not sure if you’re big enough to play this game…”

“Of course I am!” I insist “let me play!”

I should have notice something was off when he made me promise I wouldn’t tell anyone.

Anyway he gets off the floor puts on a record – I still remember it – it was Boogie Nights by Heatwave. I remember it well! It is my favorite song. It used to be, that is until now. He then comes over and sits right next to me on the sofa.

Instantly things start to feel weird. He speaks softly and moves in slowly now. Almost as if he is deliverate trying to avoid scaring me. He puts his hand, slowly, on my knee and tells me to relax. Now I am really shaking.

Then he says: “Open up your pants and …”

Before he could finish his sentence I was off that sofa and out the door! Sorry, I cannot love this neighbor… I knew what he wanted and I was not going to play those games.

But poor Peter! I just realized that he has played that game before and he is keeping that secret.

I now know why Peter’s attitude had change lately. He did not skip back & forth anymore. He walks there with his head down and his shoulder seem to just droop – like he has lost his spark.

I know he has a hard life at home, with his dad never being home & his mom being controlling. I’m sure he does not have anyone to talk to – even if they did listen – I’m not sure they would hear the secret he’s keeping.

This is enough to stress anybody out! Deep down inside, I know that Peter has changed from the many times he’s gone into the darkness of that gray house.

I know that the one and only time was enough for me. It left a lasting impression on me. Like a nightmare, it lingers in the shadows of secrecy. It is one thing that even though I want to forget, I have not been able to do.

I wonder if Peter has been able to forget.

Last year, we played monopoly all summer long! Playing for a few hours a day & then sliding the board back under the bed before mom came home. This went on for days – even weeks at a time. We would finish one game and then start all over again.

If was fun playing, because it kept us entertained but mostly because we got away with something – we got away by hiding this from mom & dad. Shortly before they got home we would hide the game & then complete our chores.

Getting away with something gave us a new kind of freedom. A freedom I’ve never known before.

Sure enough Daniel & I would have our room cleaned, our beds made and the toys put away.

This summer we started a different game. I don’t know how we started it but by 12noon we had drawn on the wood floor, in chalk, a roadway for our toy cars. It was pretty elaborate with exit ramps and even bridges and tunnels. It started in the kitchen, stretched across the dining room and into the living room.

We even had several boroughs of New York streets with highways to connect them all.

We drew, till our hearts content, of highways and roadways. Of freeways that flow past the confines of this city.

We drew of country roads where dreams peacefully meander under the cover of tall oaks. We drew of byways and crossroads that serve as arteries. Filling our hearts with the blood of adventure. Our minds travel freely and dream of the road trips we will one day make.

Every bit of our imagination and creativity was spread out across the wood floor of our home. Scribbled and measured as if we had engineered where we were going.

Our wings spreading over these byways like eagles souring high above the scenery. Free to go anywhere and free to dream of anything!

We used my collection of baseball cards to make the bridge and tunnels. We would play for a few hours & then the cleanup would start. Mop the floor to get rid of the chalk lines; put the toys away and complete our chores in time for mom & dad to get home. All to allow the dreaming to flow freely over again the next day.

Day after day, we have fun! And day after day, we are free to imagine anything we want. The world is ours and we are free to create it as our own.

Looking out the window, I see a beautiful Sunday morning. The sky is bright and a beautiful shade of blue with only one gray cloud.

Again the loud whirling of the vacuum cleaner wakes me up. I give in and decide to get out of bed and head downstairs for breakfast. The sounds of mom’s Spanish music fills the air as I descend down the staircase.

Loud, upbeat and a happy mood fills my mother’s way of being. I guess she is enjoying Spring cleaning…

“Mom, can I go outside and play?” I ask her excitedly. “Sure, after you clean up your room.” OK that sound fair enough. I can do my part of the Spring cleaning chores. I run back upstairs, make my bed and put the dirty clothes in the hamper. Again I charge down the stairs and I’m heading out the door, when my mom asks… “Did you sweep and mop the floor?”

Oh no! “do I have to do that?” I challenge her. “Just do it! Then you can go out and play.” was her reply.

While I mop, the music filling the air is soft ballads from the old country. They are love songs and patriotic ballads from Ecuador. I thought nothing of it. She would always play sounds from back home. It was music from her youth & her old friends. The ballads sang of hope and heraldry for the love of our country.

About 45 minutes later I am done mopping the floor & cleaning out the bucket so I head downstairs.

“Mom, I’m done! I’m going out to play?” This time there was no reply and she is nowhere to be found. The music changed and now there is a love song on the stereo. It sings of missed opportunities and love that cannot be.

It was melancholic and a bit dramatic.

I guess mom is missing the old days…

Anyway, where’s mom? I start searching for her & realize that she was in the front yard picking tomatoes for lunch. “OK mom, I’ll be back by lunchtime.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asks as if she forgot our deal. “out to play…”

“No. Go and clean the upstairs bathroom.” she demanded “But mom, you said I can go out when I was done with my room…”

“Now you need to do the bathroom!” she insisted.

Begrudgingly I went and did it. “Well, If I can go out and play after that, then it won’t be so bad.” I justified that to myself.

Again another 45 minutes passed, but I was done! Now I can go out to play. Heading down the stairs, the music still blaring, I hear my mother crying. This time the music went from melancholic to downright sad. It sang of loves lost & the longing for days gone by. It sang of missing out on what life has to offer.

Oh Boy! She is in her sad mood.

This time I try and sneak out the door. “Where do you think you are going?” mom stops me. “Umm, outside to play…” I reply

“Go to your room!” she yells. “Why mom?”

“Because I said so…” was her reply.

I look out the window & see that the gray cloud has decided to linger. It starts raining and I guess I’m not going anywhere!

I could see that, like that cloud, her mood was also gray. A sadness welts up in her eyes and a single tear rolls down her cheek. Immediately she wipes it off and turns so that I would not see it.

My mother always has to be strong and never allows us to see her vulnerability. But today I did see it and I can understand her pain. She gave up a lot to come to the United States. She gave up her education; her career; her friends and family; her hopes; but most of all she gave up her future & dreams so that we can have ours.

Once in a while she allows herself to feel this. I don’t think its of remorse for giving up her past but out of shear loneliness. Having to bear the burden of bringing up five kids – practically alone – in a new world can be a daunting task.

Carrying a heavy burden is daunting…
but even worse having to do it without much support from dad.

“Daniel, what are those ninja stars for?” I ask him. “they are called Shurikens, They are for throwing at your enemy! You never know when you have to protect yourself.”

Wow! they look pretty dangerous. I have a feeling I know what he needs to protect himself from.

“Forget that! pass me my shirt, I need to iron it.” I reach over for his shirt on the bed and hand it to him. I forgot about the ninja stars & just kept checking out this place. There are no windows down here. Just some weight equipment on the floor & Disco music spinning on the turntable. Tonight, my brother is getting ready to head out to the Disco. Ahh! over there, up agaist the wall is my new bed! That’s where I can put my stuff.

Over in the bathroom, my brother continues getting ready. He is blow drying his hair, applying some cologne & ironing his bell bottom pants. Boy! I am not a fan of disco & that music is blasting!

“We can make it, if we try
we can make it, touch the sky
we can make it, if we try
we can make it, get on high”

As I lay down on my bed, I close my eyes and just imagine Donna Summer’s words just running thru my head. (MP3)

For some reason the lyrics seem to have a calming effect on me.

Suddenly I get the feeling that just by being down here, things will be better. Being with my brother & seeing his space, I feel that yes, we can make it…