Just Remembering a Few Things

Hi everyone. I know, I know . . .  I've obviously been away from blog-land for a while.

First, I had to take this semester off - it was an unplanned break. (It's a complicated story . . . but in a nutshell, I was not informed my advisor had retired. I couldn't sign up for classes without my advisor's approval. For a couple weeks prior to the semester's start, I was unable to track her down, and no one thought to mention that she had retired/had a replacement until after classes had started. And of course, by this time, the ones I wanted/needed were full.)

Secondly, after a rough fall semester last year, I was completely unmotivated to write anything, either academic, or for fun (such as for this blog).

As a matter of fact, I've hardly had the motivation to read anything for fun, either.

Basically, I've had little inspiration to create anything recently.

I guess I just needed a break.

But today, I realized something: yesterday was the third anniversary of my uncle Hector's untimely death. I hadn't even realized yesterday was the anniversary until I was getting Livie ready for school this morning, and I'd glanced at the school lunch calender to tell her what her hot-lunch options were for the day.

So I guess that was inspiration enough to share a few memories.

#1

This is the house in El Paso, TX where my maternal grandparents lived for many, MANY years, as did my mom and my uncles. This first story takes place here. I wasn't there, but I've been told the story numerous times, mainly by my grandmother, Oma, (but once or twice by my uncle, and a couple times by my mom). So this is going to be my Oma's version of the story.

Some background info: before I came into existence, my mom was in nursing school. She lived at home with her parents while going to nursing school.

The story: one night, she was coming home after her shift at the hospital. On this particular evening, my uncle (7 years younger than my mom) had my grandmother's permission to spend the night at his friend's house. So he was supposedly at his friend's house.

As you may have guessed, he was NOT at his friend's house. He and his friend were at my grandparents' house. Not inside the house, but  hiding in the bushes. See where this is going?

Well, since it was night, and it was dark, my mom had pulled into the carport and was quickly walking to the door. I'm sure you can guess what happened next. My uncle and his friend were planning on jumping out to try and scare her, thinking her reaction would be hilarious. However, she had gotten SO SCARED, that she let out a blood-curdling scream.

My grandparents, who'd been in bed, but awake as they waited for my mom's safe return, had heard her terrified scream, jumped out of bed, and scurried to the door. Who do they see? My scared mom, of course. But also my scared uncle.

They were all scared at the time (except for my grandfather who was understandably very angry). But in retelling this story, my grandmother is in tears from laughing so hard. She says that my uncle had intended to scare his sister, my mom, but ended up having the tables turned, being the one who'd been frightened by her! My grandmother laughs SO HARD at the memory of his face, pale in the light of a full moon, eyes huge.

At this point in the story, my Oma is laughing so hard, she needs to stop to catch her breath. She says she was so angry at the time, that she made my uncle stay home for the rest of the night, even though she'd earlier given him permission to spend the night at his friend's. She says the funniest thing fueling her laughter is the memory of the moonlight on his face, making him look unusually pale, when he was probably already pale from having been frightened.

#2

This photo was taken at my grandparents' home (not the home pictured earlier, but the home they lived in for their remaining years together). It's obviously my uncle and baby Livie. She was about 9 months old here. We'd all been at my grandparents' for the Veterans' Day long weekend (which was also my birthday weekend). My uncle was very good at taking care of babies,and enjoyed helping out with his great-niece, Livie. So if we were all at my grandparents' at the same time, he would willingly babysit her while Andrew and I went out for a couple hours (for dinner, or Christmas shopping, or a movie or whatever).

There was a weekend we were all at my grandparents' in December; it had just so happened to be the anniversary of when Andrew and I had gotten married in the church. "UH" (as he used to sign his e-mails to me) agreed to babysit Livie while Andrew and I went out to dinner. We went to the Olive Garden at Cielo Vista Mall in El Paso. I don't remember now what I'd eaten. What I do remember is that it tasted SO GOOD, but I think it was because we had a couple hours to ourselves, knowing Livie was in good hands.

#3

This next photo is obviously a number of months later, when Livie was over a year old.With a great love of books, language, and learning, he enjoyed reading to Livie. (By the way, he was a professor in the Department of English at the University of New Mexico - I guess, once a teacher, always a teacher.) 

As you can see, he's dressed all in black, which earned him my nickname for him - "Johnny Cash." My grandmother asked him once why he always dressed in black, head to toe. He smiled, chuckled, and said, "Well, I guess it's because this way, it's just so easy to match."

#4

 

This photo is at my parents' house in Iowa. This was over Thanksgiving. Livie is being a chatterbox here, and my uncle is getting a kick out of all the funny things she was talking about (she talked a LOT then, and she talks a LOT now!). She was about 2.5 years old at this time.

This was about the time he was consistently calling her "Kitty Cat" as a nickname. She gets a kick out of this every time I remind her he used to call her that.

So there you have it. I'm gone for a few weeks and come back with a long, chatty post! Once my fingers get going over the keyboard, they get going!

Liv Goes to the University

Here's the "photo tour" of Livie's trip to the University of Iowa. (I meant to get a photo of her in front of the Main Library, but I forgot. She'd gotten scared in that HUGE place, and actually started crying a bit - even as she held my hand - so we kinda rushed out of there, forgetting to get a photo.)

Liv's in front of "EPB," my home away from home (as I work toward earning a Master of Arts degree in English).

Here's another photo of her in front of EPB.

She had it easy riding in the BOB up that monster hill. I, on the other hand, got a good cardio workout!

She likes "The Golden Dome" (which is actually Iowa's Old Capitol), so I took her picture in front of it.

Bucket List Revisited

Okay, I've just been looking over my bucket list (click here for Part I and here for Part II), and noticing something . . .

I am in the midst of working on #13! It'll take a while, but the important thing is that I've started it! My two graduate classes this semester (at the U of I) are both English classes: Native American Literature, and Early American Literature I.

I remember

This is a re-post of something I wrote on my grandfather's birthday, July 1st. He would've been 95 this year, 2009. I wanted to post it on the eve of the new year, 2010, to keep his memory alive as we move forward in time.

When I smell or taste spearmint, I think of Sir Rafa. He usually had that green spearmint Trident; I do, however remember that the alternate flavor was cinnamon Dentyne. He also had those spearmint breath mints that came in a roll, like Life Savers do; I think they were called "Breath Savers"? I have a box of spearmint Altoids that I keep in my car, and every time I pop one in my mouth, the overwhelming scent of spearmint whisks me away to El Paso, and the office next to the guest room. You know, because he had a stash of spearmint (and cinnamon) gum in his desk drawer.

I think of Sir Rafa when I stop at (or drive past) a gas station with a car wash. He enjoyed telling me about the time when I was little and he and I went through the car wash. He asked me, "Are you scared?" and I told him, "No, but can I sit in front with you?"

Livie has already repeated history in a manner of speaking. She and I once went through the car wash and she said to me, "Mommy, I'm not afraid, but you can sit in the back with me if YOU'RE afraid."

When Andrew cuts the grass and pulls weeds out of the landscaping, I think of Sir Rafa and all the care he put into maintaining a well-groomed yard.

The smell of the garage makes me think of how orderly he kept his. When Andrew's out working in the garage, sometimes I have a fleeting memory of seeing Sir Rafa as he was working in his.

How about the story that makes Oma laugh so hard she can barely breathe? Here's a hint: Hector is tired of hearing the retelling of this moonlit story recalling "the scream on Blue Ridge." But it's classic Sir Rafa, and I occasionally have Oma tell it to me AGAIN, just so she laughs.

When I walk into my closet and have to get something from the back, I see my uniforms, all crisply pressed, and my steel-toe boots slightly scuffed and not as polished as they should be. Right next to the steel-toe boots are my "comfy" boots, which actually DO have enough elbow grease to look almost like obsidian. I see these items and immediately get a knot in my stomach because I miss him so much.

In my closet, if I open the top drawer, I'll see my first flight cap with the gold 2nd Lieutenant bar; I then remember how my grandfather called the room to attention the first time he saw me in uniform. I remember how much he loved being related to a "90-Day Wonder."

Sometimes I'll see a photo of the mountains in my back yard (in Alamogordo, NM), and I'll think of him because he had a similar mountain view in El Paso, and I know that his Texas sunset would've been similar.

If somebody wakes up late, my first response is . . . ? Naturally, it's "Good afternoon."

When Hector and I sometimes talk about the English language, I sometimes remember the time Sir Rafa and I had a discussion about a certain entry from his computer's thesaurus. He asked me why "infer" isn't necessarily the best replacement word for "imply" and we had a lively discussion about the nuances of the English language.

Sometimes I'll see Alex's handwriting and think of how opposite it is to our grandfather's neat, compact printing.

I pour coffee in the morning and think that mine is so different than a certain somebody's black coffee. Mine has 2 Splendas and some hazelnut biscotti Coffee-Mate.

Oma sometimes remembers how both Bonnie and I each loved going to Luby's and seeing the colorful fish in the fish tank in the lobby. When in El Paso, if I drive past a Luby's, I think of BOTH of my grandparents, because if Oma and I were there, then Sir Rafa was there, too.

Ever notice how Uncle Chino has so many of the same mannerisms as his brother?

Remember the story about "Rafa and Chino: Newspaper boys"? Or the "Pieces" and "Getting hot dogs and sharing a soda" stories? Livie has heard these stories already.

Ever catch my Uncle Ralph when he speaks a "Sir Rafa-ism"?

So Sir Rafa was born on July 1st. Yes, he would agree that his birthday is before our nation's birthday, but he always wanted to make sure we understood that this does NOT make him OLDER than our nation!

May we continue to remember him, so that he may live on with us.

 Olivia and Sir Rafa, when we spent the night in El Paso, before catching a flight out of the El Paso airport; the next morning, we were flying to the Lake House for the July 4th holiday.

Sir Rafa and Alex, at the Army museum at Ft. Bliss, in El Paso.

This photo was taken by my uncle, Ralph A. Torres, circa late-autumn -- winter 2008. This is at the Ft. Bliss cemetery. We miss you, Sir Rafa.

Oma and Sir Rafa, back in the day. Maybe this was the Enlisted Club at Ft. Bliss?

His official service photo from his Army days. He was a Sergeant (E-5) in this photo.