Perfect Perception of Possible Scenarios.

As some of you may have noticed, that is you are there to notice (if a person blogs in the forest and there's no one to read it do people even notice?)... I have been writing a bit about me, how I feel and my parents.

It's therapeutic and it does shed some light on things that I see, and live daily.

That's not all there is though, I have been writing to find my centre, my precise spot of comfort, they say that the only way to get good at writing is to do it daily and often, hey no matter how lousy you are, if you can engage just ONE person, you can definitely make a difference; so I am making a habit of writing.

I also write in the off-chance that it will create some sort of enlightening circumstance in my day where something I put here, will actually make me write some more about different things.

Right now, it's mostly thoughts on "paper", I believe on this as a journal, so while I may not put life changing thoughts here, it is indeed a mind-dump of my personal life.

I write in order to make myself a better dad as well, I look back on my experiences with my parents, and I try to gain an insight on what it was that made them such great parents, at least according to my experience of course.

I do this, in order to really make a difference on my son as well.

As some of you may know, I am a first time parent, while I am 33, this whole experience of caring for a little human being is a completely alien and horrifying scenario at times.

So, I want to be better and more than that, the best I can be at it.

I read a few blogs a day, and today, I read this on the Art of Manliness about how "The Child is the Father to the Man", if you have a few minutes, go ahead and give it a read.

So, I've always thought that whatever upbringing you have, whatever choices your parents made, and how you learn to react to them, will mould the person and practical Grown human being you end up being.

With my son, my approach is that of a friendly father figure, I don't know the "stern driver" of a Dad doesn't quite suit with me.

We do things together, and I do things FOR him, while I teach (or try to) how and why I do things and take decisions.

He is 7 though, so following my train of thought is not always that straight forward (that may also be because sometimes I can't even follow where I started or ended up with the idea myself), but it's a fun exercise.

A few days ago, we had our Independence Day celebration, I am not the most nationalist person in this country.  BY FAR not the right person to teach how to love this country.  I like it, don't get me wrong, but I've been exposed to the fallacies of politics and the idiotic behaviour of steadfast nationalist bigots, to know that it's not in me to try and sell that to a child.

But it's also my civic duty to do so, and I may as well do things right for him and future generations.

So, this weekend we made a "farolito".  You know how you get fireworks commemorating the rockets and the fighting that the US went for on their fight for independence?  Well, here we actually make lanterns in remembrance of how hard it was back in the 1800s to get a message through the whole of Central America of independence.  People walked, rode horses, mules or whatever they could find with torches or lanterns to light their way.  So the WHOLE celebration has a runner with the Torch of Independence going through the country, and the kids, well the kids celebrate with their own version of it.

Over the years, it has gotten more and more elaborate, back when I was a child, it was good common place to just have a simple lantern with a candle inside, and we used to march through the street on the 14th of September with our lanterns and sing the national Anthem.

These days schools STILL ask us to make the lanterns (some are even ok with store bought though) and for the family to go to school and celebrate.

So, being the way I am, I dove into it wholeheartedly.  You know, for Jr.

Coffee, cutting mat and materials

Ideally, this would not have been a coffee fueled binge of creativity, but as luck would have it, I though Jr was going away for the weekend and that assistance WAS NOT mandatory.  I was wrong on both accounts and it was all for the better to be honest. 

Deep in the realms of Cutting on board...

I decided to go with an "adobe house" or what people believe was the custom here ages ago (about 192 years ago if you go by independence date).  I like making things with my hands, and I like to believe myself to be meticulous in the undertakings, so I did it to scale, 1:50.  Totally unnecessary as it was just supposed to be lighted up later, but I can't help it, I couldn't just build it haphazardly.

AS such though I didn't want to do it all alone, after all this is a family task, so Jr did the painting and colouring  bit messy, but all his!

Indeed we had a bit of fun on that (to be honest I cringed at the thought of it being less than perfect but I'm learning about this parenting thing as I go as I mentioned).

Light off final house

With our little "torch" light inside

In the end of course it was his face which lit the brightest, I still don't know if I am doing everything right, I actually think I am not going "by the book" on a lot of these things, but I am learning and pushing myself at it.

To do things with our hands is in reality what separates us from animals, our use of tools and our creative ability.  To squander that gift just because stores sell things, I believe is one of our gravest mistakes; and one I hope he doesn't make.  But this is definitely something I need to preach by example, only by doing can I show him the need and the satisfaction of it.

“What a man knows should find its expression in what he does. The value of superior knowledge is chiefly in that it leads to a performing manhood.” –Christian Nestell Bovee

So, if I want for my son to be a great father as a boy to himself as an adult, I must act and perform that way myself, as such he is also, as a boy, a father to me; in a way that I learn from him by performing, and doing myself, and hoping that "my best" is indeed good enough.

Presentable Paranoia and Simple misunderstandings

So, here's this thing, you know how sometimes you think there's nothing you can do to make amends, that is you messed up and things simply don't seem to get any better no matter what you say?

Well, I sometimes get that without saying or doing anything really, I just worry about what people will say or think over stuff I may have done which no one has complained about at all but still makes me worry.

Sometimes it's as simple as something I said that may be misunderstood, other times is the way I act which may be misconstrued at a different level and people will react to it in ways that are simply randomly selected out of their OWN messed up Psyche.

We all suffer from Paranoia a bit, we all worry needlessly over certain behaviours which could be left alone and no one would bat an eye, but sometimes we seek that final confirmation that we can make things better.

And, just like that, by asking; we make them all the worse.

See, if people didn't notice you saying something offensive, the reality is, that if you ASK about it, they will end up noticing it all the more.  If they were just acting like they didn't notice, well then, you JUST confirmed it to them.

So, which one is better, act the fool, or just come out and say things straight?  Depends on the outcome you want.  If you GENUINELY and unequivocally require to make amends, go for the kill and the question, but that may not fix anything at all.

Why do I go about this?

It's simple, while I was born in a Latin country, where Spanish is THE main form of communication, my use of it is haphazard at best.

I have been thinking and talking in English long enough that the 1st meaning of any word I utter, is the English variant and that leads to all sorts of weird outcomes when speaking with people that MAINLY use Spanish.  It's not at total lack of communication, but it does yield some impressive misunderstandings.

As is my nature, I ask about this, and more often than not, end up making a bigger thing out of something no one would have noticed.

It's fun sometimes though, I am separated from others by a common language and hilarity ensues.

Vacations, Vacant Memories, and Vague Dreams

This post will have less pictures that some of my other ones,  the Scanner is stuck in a box somewhere and well... I don't want to take grainy pictures of pictures with my phone just so I can post them here, so... Not many pictures, or at least not the pictures I have at hand.

A lot of this post will have to take place in your imagination as well, I guess I'll have to be quite more descriptive for that to happen, so I'll do my best to be a decent writer and create the environment.

September, has always been a transitioning month for me, back in Highschool, while not starting classes back then (our schedule is a bit off from the US, our School year starts in Feb-March), we did have a new set of activities, the year changed, Exams started and on September 1st, my dad's birthday came on.

I loved his Birthday, it was always full of people and happiness and cooking.

His last birthday, the one we spent together before he passed away, was a weird affair though.

My Dad, well, step-dad had a family before me and my mom, cool people, we don't get along though, and that Birthday they asked him to go and see them early and spend time with them, so he felt maybe, it would be nice, and we cancelled our plans.  Weren't really going to do anything for it, we'd wait a few days.

Turns out the "noble gesture" was asking him early so he could pick up the shirt they got him as a present so they ALL could go to the beach without him.

My dad was a bit broken up about it.  Back then I was 20, so, 13 years ago, I didn't have a job outside of working with my family (that is him and my mom) and my salary was pretty much enough to go out sometimes and chill, but not exorbitant.

Hearing that my dad was going to spend a birthday without celebrating was something I would not stand for, I called in a LOT of favours, and managed to get us into a restaurant that had JUST opened (it was opening night), so, me, my mom and my girlfriend celebrated all out as Rock Stars on that new Fusion restaurant.

Then, after that, we went to the casino and had a grand time, he even made a killing on the floor as well.  He cried for a while and we got really emotional about it, that was our last birthday together, while I didn't know THAT at the time, I felt that this was the least we could do for each other, be happy, enjoy life, and face it together as well.

Ever since his passing, September, and September 1st to be honest are weird hard months for me.  It used to be that they were hard on me and my mom, but, as luck would have it, she's not here anymore either.

6 Months now, six months have passed since my mom left us, and it ended up being that THIS September both dates would hit me harder than expected.

So it didn't surprise me when come September (1st at that) I woke up with a face covered in tears.

Why was that you'd say?  Well you would if you were real and sitting in front of me.  Maybe, as it stands you are a screen full of text right now and not capable of retort.  So, well, you did say it anyway, stop being picky.

I had a dream about my parent's.  It was weird in the way dreams tend to be weird, so stuff was out of place but not so much so that bending Physics, reality and the overall structure of the universe WASN'T weird.

In this dream, I had somehow attained a time machine, and managed to meet my parent's at one of their vacation spots, I believe it was Dominican Republic, or Jamaica.  Definitely the Caribbean.

So, there I was, at a bar on top of the Sea it was on a bay, and they had built right on top of the ocean, people swam to it and climbed a ladder onto the bar.


So there I was, feeling like a cool Bond Character type, when I see them, walking up the beach, hand in hand, all smiles and happiness like I remember them, in love and totally in control I guess.

They didn't recognise me, of course they wouldn't know me as I am now (or so my dream self thought), and we struck a conversation.  Emotional as I was in the dream, it never prepared me for what continued, as not only did we strike a conversation, but we became friendly to each other.

Here's the thing, I always was friends with them while they were alive, but to feel their acknowledgement, and to know that if life had not been as kind to me as it was, and had I been born of other parents I could STILL have been their friend?  That just did me in.

We struck our good byes, and farewells, and I saw them leave, and here is where I woke, face full of tears, and a heart sunk inside me.  Not only do I miss my parents, I miss our friendship.  I miss our closeness.

Sometimes, I wish, I could just let it all Pass, and wake when September ends...