Before I was ever a mother, I was an aunt, the next best thing. I had two nieces and one nephew, Diane, Rey, and Cris. I have four other nieces and nephews younger than my daughter. I love them all. Each has a special memory engraved in my heart which I will share with you. I’ll start with the ones older than my daughter, my side of the family....

Diane: She loves animals, especially dogs; always has. One day, for Halloween, when she was ten, I helped her with her costume. She was to be a wicked witch. I helped her with her makeup. When she was done, her face was all green complete with hairy warts, some teeth were blackened, her hair was gray and disheveled, and her dress was ragged. We went out and no sooner were we outside the building when a dog was approaching us. Diane, of course had to pet it. The poor dog took one look at her and ran into the middle of the street yelping. Diana ran after it, afraid it would be run over. I ran after her. The dog was still yelping and trying to outrun Diane.

It’s funny now but back then I couldn’t get Diane to stop crying and I couldn’t get my legs to stop shaking. I retouched her makeup and we continued our trick-or-treating. The dog made it safely across the street.

Rey: He is a sweet, kind, and gentle young man; always has been. I loved taking him with me everywhere. If people thought he was my son I would not correct them.

On one such occasion, we were walking in front of some construction workers having lunch. I held on to my three year old cutie and kept walking. The men started whistling and one shouted, “Mamacita!” Rey let my hand go, ran up to the man and with bravery scolded the man, “She is NOT your mamacita! She is my aunt!”

He is now the father of two beautiful girls. No doubt he will defend them forever as well.

Cristina: I call her “my present” because she was born on my birthday.

We knew my sister was due around the time of my birthday but my husband decided we could still spend the weekend in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, my favorite weekend spot. The first thing I did once we got there, after a four hour drive, was to call my sister and see how she was. No answer. Argh!

My husband suggested we call every hour but to enjoy our time there in the meantime. When he realized my heart was in New Jersey (where my sister lived at the time), Carlos suggested we call the hospital. Voilà! They had a Connie P. in the labor room. We got in the car and drove to New Jersey.

Visiting hours were over by the time we got there, sans flowers, but we did see her through the window. She was the most beautiful baby there. Of course! It was my birthday! I deserved it!

"Family faces are magic mirrors. Looking at people who belong to us, we see the past, present, and future."
~Gail Lumet Buckley

 
On Valentine’s Day my daughter and I went to lunch with some friends; Ralph, Matt, and his girlfriend, Jen. Jen was telling us how she was asked for some ID in order to retrieve her purse that she had forgotten at a restaurant where they had dinner the night before . I thought to myself, “funny how things like that always happen to other people; certainly I would remember I had a purse and not leave it behind in a restaurant.”

Things like that only happen to other people.

Until they happen to me.

Not much to explain. Yesterday, five hours after enjoying a nice lunch at our favorite sushi restaurant, my husband and I had just pulled into the mall parking lot when I told him he had to head back, not home, but to the sushi restaurant. My purse, not being by my feet as is my custom, had to be at the sushi place.

I went into the restaurant and explained why I was there. The hostess just asked me if my purse was a brown one or a black one. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who had forgotten her purse at that restaurant that day.

Funny how things like that always happen to other people.

"There are three signs of old age. The first is your loss of memory; the other two I forget. "
~Unknown

 
Everyone knows me as a ladybug collector. I don’t remember when that aspect of myself started. I only remember that I always liked them and I remember when I started loving them.

I worked in New York City before I became a mom. When you depend on public transportation to get you to work, you are subject to delays of all sorts even if you give yourself plenty of time. In other words, it’s always rush, rush, rush. On one particular day, the subways were running very late and I was running to the office. I was, of course, muttering some choice words as I tried not to bump into people who always seemed to know the exact moment to move in my path. All of a sudden I felt something hit my neck. I brushed it off and saw that a ladybug had “run” into me. I stopped. I oohed and aahed. Like a kid I was fascinated by it and counted its spots. I looked for a nearby tree and gently set it upon a sturdy branch. I said goodbye to it and ‘walked’ the rest of the way to work. I felt happy. I realized then that God had sent that ladybug to me as a way of telling me to relax and see the beauty of his world.

Now I’m known as a ladybug collector. I didn’t realize I was a ladybug collector until I started getting ladybug things as gifts from my friends and family for no special occasion. Actually, most of my items come from them. They are everywhere in my house. With the exception of my daughter’s bedroom, which is a shrine to Star Wars, there is a ladybug item somewhere in the house. The count is up to 246 ladybug items. I have a ladybug mug, ladybug soap dispenser, ladybug salt and pepper shakers, ladybug magnets, a collection of ladybug socks.... well, you get the picture... ladybug toilet seat cover. But what I treasure most is the thought that these people think enough of me to get me these things. Likewise, I think of them every time I see the things they lovingly gave me.

Yup! Ladybugs are a heavenly sign of all that is nice in this world. Now if I could only find a Han Solo with a ladybug ......

"Nature always tends to act in the simplest way."
~Bernoulli

 
Holding hands with my husband of almost 18 years comes naturally. We hold hands all the time. We hold hands when we walk anywhere; we hold hands while watching a movie at home; we hold hands in the car; we hold hands as we fall asleep. It’s not a habit, it’s real. So when my sister told me that her mother- in- law talked about us holding hands, I wanted to know the whole story.

Like I said, we hold hands and that’s what we were doing at my niece’s birthday party. Ok, now would be a good time for me to mention that I believe that God has a sense of humor. But, on with the story...

My sister called me over and told me that her mother-in-law just asked her how long Carlos and I have been married. In response to my sister’s question of ‘why’ her mother-in-law said, “Because no one still holds hands after being married for so long. I think the whole thing is a cover-up and he is cheating on her.” My sister and I had a good chuckle with that. She went to cut the cake, I went back to my husband and held his hand.

That was four years ago at my niece’s first birthday party. She will be five this year. Carlos and I have gone to all of her birthdays since. We have not seen her father since he moved out later that year. Earlier this year he married the woman with whom he had been having an affair. Carlos and I are still holding hands.

"There is hope for the future because God has a sense of humor and we are funny to God."
~Bill Cosby

 
I did not get to hold my baby girl the day she was born. An emergency C-section kept me asleep for twelve and one-half hours after her birth. I actually heard her before I ever saw or held her. I knew it was her. She started to cry as she was wheeled into my room. I had imagined what she'd look like many times. At 11:08 AM on June 23, 1989 I met my little angel, God's gift to my husband and me, as she was placed in my arms for the first time. Memory engraved permanently in my heart and soul.... and my arms, for I can still feel her warmth and smallness. I can still feel her smooth cheeks as I kissed my angel for the very first time...on her dimples, just as I had asked God to give her.

It has been thirteen years, eight months, and three days that I, or rather, we have been blessed with being able to love our precious gift.

"We find delight in the beauty and happiness of children that makes the heart too big for the body."
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

 
I can remember many things from my past; my youth, my teen years, my early twenties.....many things. But I can only feel, as if it were yesterday, two main things; my first kiss and when the doctor's first put my little baby girl in my arms for the first time.
Now those of you who know me will be wondering why I didn't mention my husband, Carlos. Don't get me wrong, I have plenty of wonderful memories of him. But those are other thoughts.
Let's start with the older memory:

Joseph. Joseph C. My first boyfriend when I was 13. (I won't mention his last name) I can picture him now, even when I don't have my eyes closed. I'm smiling. What I most remember is that he gave me my very first kiss.... on the lips. Sweet, tender, innocent. I can still feel his soft, warm lips on mine. No hug. Just a kiss. His hands were holding on to the stage curtain that he used to wrap us around in. So romantic. He kissed me once. Twice. Then he looked at me and I looked at him. His pale green eyes came closer and he kissed me a third time. By this time, I'm also holding on to the curtain for support; me not knowing if I could trust my legs to hold me up.
Sorry. I don't remember anything after that, but I'm still smiling....

"I can express no kinder sign of love, than this kind kiss"
Henry VI, Shakespeare