December 15, 2017


December 15th is the day our dad always bought our Christmas tree. It was an annual ritual that I will always cherish. On this day in 2017, the patriarch of the family passed away. Lung cancer ravaged his body and his final week on earth was heartbreaking to witness. My blog today is about DAD and what death does to a family.

We knew he would succumb to the disease. We all watched him actively die and it’s one of the toughest things to do. When he was initially admitted to the rehab center this final time, he was talkative and his normal self but a week later, things changed significantly. This wasn’t his first time in the hospital or a rehab facility as he has battled heart issues and a number of slip and falls for the past 4-5 years. But, the cancer ultimately took his life. He constantly asked for his oldest two sons so I knew this had to be important to him. I called my brothers in California and told them that dad wanted to see them they both jumped on a flight the next day to visit for the weekend. They were able to see him alive and we knew that dad was happy. His spirits lifted a bit even though he was weak and tired. My brothers didn’t know he was that bad off and both expressed that they were happy to see him before he passed away. It was a Monday when they had to go back home so we visited him before we would head to the airport. He was very weak and could only manage a very low whisper which was even harder to hear over the oxygen condenser machine. He asked my brothers and I to come closer which we did. In a very low and raspy whisper, he managed to say that he wanted all of the shit between us to stop and named all of his children. He said that he didn’t want any fighting or nonsense at his funeral and he wants us to all get along. This had to be incredibly important to him and heavy on his heart to muster up the energy to make the statements. I was taken aback but so very proud of him for finally putting his foot down. It was now or never for him to speak his mind.

My dad and I weren’t really on speaking terms because of the circumstances with my son. I would pop up to his house every now and then to say hello or bring him some food. I missed him and I missed our conversations. He had said some pretty mean things to me and at one time, he even told me to never come to his house again. I was crushed but I also knew that he was siding with other family members and I also had to recognize that he was hurting. He was absolutely crushed about his grandson being in jail and I totally understood his pain and anger. I wanted him to step up and be the peacemaker. I wanted him to be the leader and insist that we all sit down and talk about it. I wanted him to be the hero and fix everything. None of that happened but he did make his demands on his deathbed. Thank you dad for that. Whether or not we act upon on it is on us. I am open to honoring his words. I’ve always been open to work things out with my family. Dad’s final words just emphasizes it for me.

After my dad saw his two oldest sons, his condition went downhill rapidly. Four days later after they left, we would lose him. We would all gather in his room everyday. We knew that he could hear us laughing and talking. We spent the time reminiscing and thinking back on memorable childhood events. Did you notice that I said “we gathered in his room?” Yes, my dad brought us all together. I hadn’t been in the same room with all of my siblings and parents in a few years. It was a bit awkward because of the elephant in the room but apparently, we all overlooked that and spent the last few days celebrating him. Under the unfortunate circumstance, he managed to make it happen. He managed to get us all together. He was the leader and peacemaker that I was searching for. We are all grieving now. We have stuck together for our mother and for our children who are also grieving. It’s not about us. It’s not about hatred or harsh feelings. It’s about honoring dad.

It’s been two weeks since my dad passed and my heart is heavy. I still can’t believe he’s gone. Christmas was tough because he’s no longer here. There was no gift to buy him. There wasn’t the customary gift card that he gives to his adult children. He did, however, manage to buy a few gifts for the children before he went into the hospital. He was always thinking of his grandchildren. He mentioned in the hospital that he wanted those gifts wrapped in time for Christmas which they were. Christmas will be tough every year going forward.
My son called the day after the funeral. He was able to speak with his papa while he was still alert which was about eight days earlier. When I broke the news to him, he broke down crying. My heart ached for him and I couldn’t comfort him. All I could say was that I was sorry over and over. I wanted to hug him and tell him it would be okay. I felt helpless.

In his final days, my dad laid down the law and time will only tell if what he said will be honored. It’s too soon to say but a blessing behind his passing is that I’m now on speaking terms with one of my sister’s and that I was able to spend the annual Christmas ritual at my parents house. My oldest brother really wants us to all sit down and talk because from speaking with all of us separately, we all have different views, opinions and feelings about the situation with my oldest son. He has volunteered to facilitate such meeting and we’ll see how it goes or if it ever takes place. In the meantime, I will grieve the death of my father, support my son and continue to help raise his daughter.

Even if just temporary, dad was able to bring us all together. Thank you dad for the blessing. Thank you for your sacrifice in the name of your children.

The Accusations

Have you ever been accused of something so horrible that it’s hard to fathom? I hope not because let me tell you that it’s an awful thing. Especially when the accusation is that you hurt your own child. What I’m accused of doing to my oldest son would imply that I hate him or don’t care about it. It also implies that I’m a very selfish and evil person. I’m many things but I’m far from being evil and selfish. I love my son. I love him so much that I felt inclined to speak the truth about him even though it hurt like hell. No mother should ever have to face it. No mother should ever have to make that decision.

My son and granddaughter’s mother asked me to take care of her while things were up in the air. She wasn’t emotionally stable given the circumstance and he was in county jail so they gave me temporary custody of the baby. This was after her mother unexpectedly asked me a couple of months earlier to take care of her while she figures things out. I was caught off guard but didn’t think twice about it. They needed my help and she’s my granddaughter and I needed to do my part to help them out. Plus, I knew that I could provide stability for her during the unsettling times. I had to put my empty nester plans on hold while I helped raise a baby. Diapers, daycare and other baby essentials became the norm for me. I was doing it all over again but it came naturally. It was tough but I made it work. I made financial sacrifices. I could not be selfish because they all needed me. Working an 8-9 hour a day job and then going home to take care of a baby was not how I envisioned my life as my youngest was graduating from high school and headed to college. I look and think back on it now and chuckle because I really did that for nine months. My mom would help me with the baby which was a godsend but our relationship was fragile given the situation with my son. Every now and then she would tell me how she felt and we wouldn’t speak for a few days but we would always eventually put our issues aside for the sake of the baby.

Hate is a harsh thing. To hate someone is to have a passionate dislike for them. Why would people accuse me of making up the allegations against my son so I could have my granddaughter? Is it hate? Am I hated that much that people would say such an awful thing about me? Perhaps it’s evilness. Evilness is one who is morally wrong and wicked. Do they think I’m evil? I wish I knew but I’m not going harp on it or stress myself out over it. I’m not in their heads and I don’t know their thought process. The accusations are absolutely ludicrous and disturbing. I can understand people being upset with me for not keeping my mouth shut about what my son did because there are many mothers and families who don’t say anything about sexual abuse, child molestation, lewd acts with a child, etc. But to accuse me of something so vile is pretty damn extreme. Never would I falsely accuse my adult child of the worse thing he could ever do to a person. Never.

I’m beyond hurt over the accusations. I’m still a little angry about it but life is too short to be angry about something you cannot control. People can believe it if they wan’t but I don’t lose sleep over what others think of me. I know what I have and have not done. I will own something when I’m wrong. I apologize when I mess up. I admit my faults and wrongdoings. God knows my heart. You cannot lie to God. He knows all.


As I reflect on Thanksgiving, 2017, I am thankful for all that I have.  The people who mean the most to me, spent the day at my home. Cooking and hosting my own Thanksgiving dinner is the new norm for me since I’m no longer invited to the family dinner.  It’s been three years since I’ve spent Thanksgiving with my family but I’ve moved on from that and created my own tradition. My youngest son chooses to spend the day with me even though he still gets invited to the family dinner.  We never really talked about it but he will ask what we are doing for the day.  My response to him is that I’m cooking and I tell him who is coming over and we carry on. My three year old granddaughter “helped” me cook.  This will be a new tradition that I will cherish forever.

Thanksgiving is a day of reflection for what we are thankful for. I’m thankful for many things including my health, my career and friends. I am thankful for my faith and patience in restoring my relationship with my son. And let me tell you this, that faith and patience is paying off. He called me last night.  We could not talk for long but he told me that he wished that he had my macaroni and cheese which made me chuckle and smile. He spoke with his brother for a bit and I told him that I loved him. I’m thankful for this tiny step towards the healing process. 89C9DCAA-FD53-4032-854E-2806D718A60E


When the unthinkable happens, it not only hurts the victim but the entire family. The anger, pain, hate, judgement, resentment and tears are immeasurable.  How do you move forward? Can you pray it away? Can you drink it away? Can you wish it away? It’s not going away. The only thing to do is face it head on and be strong. I want my son back and I have to be patient. IMG_0093

I am allowed to hope

This is the post excerpt.

This is my story and ongoing journey with my oldest son. My story will reflect on my upbringing, choices, sacrifices, mistakes and hardships. And how an ugly situation has broken our family more than it already was.  Even with all of the hurt and anger, I still have hope. I hope that my son and I can mend our relationship and be stronger and closer than ever. I hope that those who judged me the most can remove the hatred in their hearts and accept reality. I hope that my son will acknowledge what he has done and ask for forgiveness. I am allowed to hope……IMG_0099