Sleep Less, but Life is Richer

Early afternoon and my eyes feel heavy.  Went to bed late and woke up early. Had early morning workout and it’s hard to lift my arms.  Blood sugar was high because I ate late. Yesterday was nice. Spent in LA with cousin Mike. His daughter had a birthday party at Skyzone. Think gymnastics with lots and lots of trampolines. Never really hung out with him before. We worked in the same industry and were almost co-workers.

He was tired yesterday. So tired that he fell asleep texting. Eyes were closed. Head was down. But his hands were tapping away on the IPhone. Snoring away and his hands were still texting. It was  something to Youtube. I passed though. So you will just have to imagine. A Good Guy Mike is. Spent the evening before sleeping in an uncomfortable hospital chair as his wife hooked to an IV getting antibiotics. Ten minutes of sleep for anyone is rough for anyone. Mike is a trooper, though. 

It was nice at Skyzone. So nice I felt jealous. I wanted to jump in the foam  blocks. I wanted to jump in the trampoline and do a jack knife. To do an inverse. To do an aerial. I know it would not be wise, but not sure my body would acquiesce. Mind is willing, but body. . .not so much.

Was asked to bring a walker to my Uncle. He is feeling the effects of years of smoking. False bravado as reality sets in. Can’t breathe. Can’t walk up the stairs. Several hospital visits in the last few months. Jaundiced eyes.  His reality is coming quick to bare.

His sons, my cousins, are going through life. One is son is a new father and I am Godfather. His other son moved to the PI with his family.

Seeing all this Fatherdom it makes me sad. I failed miserably. Won’t go into detail, but I am not proud.

When I look at my brother and his wonderful kids. I look at Dorian, Precie, and Lynn. He is a good man.

As I go to these kiddie birthday parties, when I attend gymnastic and judo competition, when I see the look at their eyes as they hold their Lala and Papas, it brings joy and sadness. Looking at my Uncle as his body struggles, I see that ravages are eased when he walks hold his grandchildren. There are disappointments and angry moments at times with own kids, but he is, they are much the richer. 

Dharma

Three funerals this week. Went to first one yesterday. It was of a man that had lived a good life. He was refugee. Escaped the Vietnam during time of war time evacuation. Traveled to Oklahoma via the PI. Became a pharmacist. His passing left many people feeling empty. I know. Saw it in their eyes. It was a the Heart yesterday morning. Never attended a Vietnamese  funeral. Catholics they were. Hearing them speak in the guttural cadence that is uniquely Vietnamese. I understood the format, the cadence of the service. It was morning mass for those attending.  There was communion, singing, sadness, cries. It was unusual. There was videographer, a photographer and the attendees. It was unusual for me to see to this. Guess, it’s the noveaux thing. Weddings I understand. We want to remember the celebration of a glorious time. But the videotaping of someone’s passing? I don’t know.  Guess, this is the way.

Last funeral , less than a month ago, one of the pallbearer was using his Iphone to record the event. It was his son, though. When he spoke about his father’s passing at the church lectern, there was deep sadness and anger there.  Guess, he had certain license to speak his heart, troubling as that may be. It was hard to watch. Hard to be witness to, but in these moments one realizes one’s own impact he has on others. Little things we do and don’t do. Things that are bigger than bigger than what we realize. It is like a stream that veers to the left instead of the right. It seems so small and inconsequential. It is how one turns left instead of right. One great river becomes two. A destiny branches from one possibility to another.

One so hurt by the accidental. One so troubled by the rivers changed. One so fraught. Can’t say the torrents of life is not without its whitewater. It is not without its calm moments. It is not without its many, many wonders and dangers. So many possibilities have these secondary, and tertiary effects that can never predicted or explained. That momentary brush of the lips. That unyielding eyes that says, “No.” That realization that it is better to go without than become someone you were not supposed to be.

No one could know what tomorrow brings. It is perhaps better this way. To know apocalypse is tomorrow or the next day. Sure prophecies speak of a life destined to be. But how can one really be free if the future is foretold. How can we be allowed to make choices to be or not to be? How can the decision tree be decided if it was all preplanned, preordained, predicted? Sure there is a certainty to how life effects us, changes us, it molds us.

Rivers diverge, changes course, turns a different corner. So many roads to . . .are paved with good intentions. We cannot or should not dismiss the mysteries of the world. It is vital to examine our life, our course, and listen to heart. There is a plan. There is free will. There is a destiny. It is how we decide to face to be. We can be so much more. So much less. So much. Decisions must be made. In the end, does it matter? Of course, it does.

I’ll be attending another two funerals this week. One for a family friend’s father. Another for a high school friend’s father. Emptiness will fill this week. Crying, singing, remembering.  People dressed in black. A procession, a march of the casket. Flowers being tossed on top. White headbands. Dark glasses, and many people’s head bowed down in respect and sadness.  Friends of long ago. Relative’s unknown. Fathers’ friends of yesteryear will appear and disappear like pebbles in a torrent.  Their lives going the way their river takes them.

It’s a remarkable things these funerals. People dressed in black, coming to remember, to share, to pay homage to someone that has affected their lives. Sometimes hard feelings are found. Sometimes, truth is revealed. Sometimes a show is put on by those less than. People look at life differently, their filters are skewed. They seek energy by acting the drama queen. They play games of mystery and aloofness. Its how people do things. Walking through roles, playing parts that brings them comfort. It gets them through the day, until the time comes to shed their mortal coils.

Started this blog with a death. It was the passing of my neighbor’s son.  Four in car died because of reasons I don’t remember. My neighbor has moved, moved on. Physically and spiritually. In their absence, there home is being used for some church events, I think. Cars still park up front, Music and dancing still occur and people of all ages seem to go away happy. Not sure I understand what all these means.  Its nice to know in Andre’s absence, a new spiritualness thrives. In places,  energies are attract. Like waterfalls and mountain tops. May never understand the feng shui, but that is the fun part. It’s the discovery and experience. It when all things become revealed. The dharma of karma. Drama R Us.  Life is fun. Let’s live it.  It’s the mystery of it all that fills us. It is discovering and uncovering the meaning of things. Its learning the beauty of life and realizing that there is so much more, so much more, so much more.

When we meet these people again, we will learn the meaning of it all. Until then embrace, enjoy, and take it all in. The universe leaves us clues all around. Link to death of neighbor's son

Three Little Birds. . .

Rise up this mornin', Smiled with the risin' sun,
Three little birds
Pitch by my doorstep
Singin' sweet songs
Of melodies pure and true,

Saturday. Breeze is blowing. Green trees rustle while providing shade on this hot summer day. Kids are swinging to my left. Father and son are doing soccer drills in front of me. Two sisters ride their bikes on the central path. Kids skate on the park.

It’s a warm day cooled by the summer breeze. Dry green grass covers the field. Children's laughter is carried in the wind. Been alone with family. That’s the best way to describe it this last week. Brother is in Vegas with his wonderful wife and kids. Rodney his family hung out with me a few days back. Visiting Charlie Browns and Littlerock Dam.

Thinking back when my father was alive. I would always walk around. We used to camp a bit in the van. Cold, winter nights in the brown, multi-colored van hanging with Brian. I remember back in the early 80’s when we moved here to P-dale. It snowed that winter. Heavy. Several inches thick. Driving to downtown LA. Strangers coming to our van to grab some ice from my first snowfall. Felt so special then. Strangers walking to the fan to grab a handful of ice.

Dad’s gone now. He’s buried in the PI. Didn’t end it the way of would have liked. Still remember that text message on the Verizon phone. Thought it was a joke. Thought it was a desperate cry for help. Desperate cry for money. Thought was another sales scheme. I let it go. Yet, it still haunts me.

Choices were made. Forethought was absent. Hurt feelings still scarred me. Pain that I thought let go. Alas, I was not wise then. Let hurt rule that day. I remember being dropped off in the middle of the night by the aqueduct. Walking home in the dark as the party played on. I knew then. Actually, that is not true. Knew for quite some time. If I wanted anything, I had to do it myself. It was up to me. No one else’s fault but my own. Learned to swim. Learned to ride my bike. Learned to draw and write. Dad had a way with words. Those writings are gone like he is.

Singin': "Don't worry about a thing, worry about a thing, oh!

Every little thing gonna be all right. Don't worry!"
Singin': "Don't worry about a thing" - I won't worry!
"'Cause every little thing gonna be all right."
Singin': "Don't worry about a thing,

Can’t run away from this. Can’t get away of who I am. Problems that I face are my own. Solutions are up to me. Prayed for some time. Went to church for a bit, but couldn’t escape who I am and what I’ve done. Choices I made are mine alone.

Not strategic at times. Not the best outcome, yet still, here I am. I know in the grand scheme of things it little things that make the world of difference. It is the hug of nephew. The words, “I miss my uncle.” It is the postcard from an old friend. Don’t know if the things I do will change the world. Don’t know if it doesn’t matter. Hope can mean everything. Its hard to keep at times. When things are so bleak, so dark, to have this belief that things will be better. Dad always had that. I knew when it wasn’t there. Guess, that glimmer in the eyes. Recognize it all too well. In sales, I knew when a client was sold or was just hazed over.

Knew it with Glitter. Knew it with Dad. Knew it when I saw it in myself. That look in the eyes when I lost that glow. Raman said “Dead Inside.” Hard to re-ignite that fire when it was just a whisper.

It easy to lay down and die. To hide in the cave and just wait to end it. What a waste.

To this I say,

I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself. ---D. H. Lawrence

So here I sit enjoying the hot summer winds. Listening to green trees rustle. Watching the Father and son kick the ball. There was a time I did this with my Dad. For now, this will have to do.

'Cause every little thing gonna be all right" - I won't worry!
Singin': "Don't worry about a thing,
'Cause every little thing gonna be all right."
Singin': "Don't worry about a thing, oh no!
'Cause every little thing gonna be all right!

My Hero was Born on the Fourth of July

Complications. . .
My hero is a junior high girl named Prece. On the Fourth of July thirteen years ago, we were ten minutes away from to Las Vegas. Bright lights filled the dark, desert horizon. I remember hearing the cell phone ring. Got a phone call from my brother and soon-to-be-first-time Dad Kevin. Could only hear bits and pieces, “Aspirated. . . Complications. . .Not good.” Saw my mother’s face and knew  reunion had to be next year. 

Last Time I Saw My Brother Cry. . .
Four hours later, we were on the pediatric floor of AV Hospital. Saw both Kev and Luz’s heads down. Shoulders hunched, their bodies were sobbing from a hundred feet away.  Been years since I seen my baby brother cry. Last time was after he played his last college football game.

Talking to Angels
What I remember next was seeing baby Prece helicoptered away. Wasn’t sure if there was going to be happy ending. Still remember the whole floor crying. Mom, Kev, Luz, Chelle, Gerry, Emma--everybody crying. Remember wiping tears from my eyes. Felt hollow inside. Just watched the helicopter climb into the clouds as I said "Goodbye." Never prayed before.

On that day, I did.

Prayers Answered
For the longest time, I believed being medi-vaced made all the difference. Prece carried all our prayers to God directly. Countless weeks later, attached to a heart-lung machine, encased in a glass incubator, “Precie” got better. Angels watched over her in Heaven and in the Pasadena NICU.

My Silver Surfer Still Flies
Prece still flies still today. She runs, too. Flips, twists, and back handsprings. Kaprece is my Hero because she is alive. When I watch her in gym, I reminded how Prayers are answered. I am reminded there are Angels on Earth. 

And Prece is one of them.

Just Waking Up In the Morning Gotta thank . . .Big Smile (Part 1 of 2)

Did not get much sleep last night. Can’t tell you how happy that made me feel. Got home in bed at 2:30 am. My adventure started in the Antelope Valley to Del Amo/ Torrance to Burbank to Bel Air to Pasadena and then back home. It was great. Saw Hana Sushi. Saw the National Cemetary. Saw the 6967. Saw the bar of Yes Man. Drove the green, green mountains of highway 14. What was the greatest part of the entire adventure, it was seeing family.

Left late afternoon around 3:30 from Palmdale. It was late, in that, I had much commuter traffic to go deal with. Everyone would be getting off work and would make the 405 a parking lot. Yet, this day was different. After logging many wasted hours sitting on the freeway, I knew the battle ahead. For some reason,  the roads parted from Palmdale on ramp to the Crenshaw Blvd exit. Got there an hour earlier than planned. Had time to just take it in and say my thanks to the Big Smile. Took to amazing pics, too.

Birthday Wishes Come Early
You know its my birthday in two days. Got my gift a couple days earlier than expected. Got a birthday wish from a beautiful high school friend I went on a dance with. Got another birthday message from a Vampire Wars friend. (I promise to return thank yous after I finishing typing these magical moments)

My gift was seeing my second cousin’s 5th Birthday. It was pretty awesome. A new family. Kids had a birthday habit (genetics, I guess). I had the same issue. We knew cakes felt lonely. Birthday cake is just sitting on the table not being appreciated. . .well,  you got to appreciate. Its lonely. So much activity all around. Kids playing with toys. Family cooking. Laughing, smiling, and the cake gets nothing. Kids are in tune to unhappy vibes of the cake. Well, they want to show love so, kids take swipes of the frosting. Yummm. Inexperience. They need someone to show them the way. Lucky for them I was there to show the way. 

Cake Taster, Birthday Boy's Responsibility
Kids don’t take fingers swipes at the top of the cake. You take it at the bottom. On the sides. Take swipes where no one can see cake divots. The obligatory pictures and Birthday song time are simply too long. Sugar bliss right there, come on. Patience is a virtue; however, one can always for Forgiveness. Cakes want to be eaten. Kids want to eat cake. One can only guess outcome. Plus, there is an unsaid birthday celebrant's responsibility. Who checks the cake is up to birthday standards? It is the responsibility of the celebrant. Don't forget, its his damn party. What are you going to do not eat the cake? Are you not going to sing him birthday? Come on. It his duty to make sure the cake is good. If not, let’s just call the whole thing off. Enough said about that.

Beautiful Home Filled With Love
Went to a beautiful home. With beautiful family, with lots and lots of family and friends. People I never knew until a few days back. You see, I hardly know anyone on my late father’s side. Chelle was gracious to invite her to home to celebrate her son’s birthday. There has been a calling for me to learn more about my Dad's side of the family. I am glad I went. It was incredible. Not only was the eats great. I mean great. No, I mean outstanding. Ribs perfect. Grilled eggplant and peppers. Suvaki--just delicious. Her husband is Greek and manages a Greek restaurant. You know the food was outstanding.

The whole time was full of love. Lots and lots. . .lots of Love. So many things revealed. So many questions answered by a glorious trip.  First, one was greeted by yips and yaps of the furry three. Tiny. Reminds me of Tina, my fearless Chihuahua that loves swimming with the ducks. Smiling hand-sized dogs. The door opened and I was greeted by a  great big smile and warm loving hug. It was cousin Michelle. It was . . .Home.

Don’t get me wrong I love my family. It was different. Kind of like chocolate. I mean there’s three musketeers. The Twix. Hershey Kiss. Its just a new flavor the family of Chocolate. It felt, smelt, tasted, looked, and sounded like. . .Home. Could’ve burst into tears. Just not the guy thing to do. Inside. It was something.  If you ever watch the movie Joy Luck Club at the end, it was like that.It’s just its been a whole lifetime. More than a quarter of decade since I seen Chelle. What I remember Chell, she was the short, skinny girl that Dolph and Robert picked on.  “Cuz” was what she called me. Awesome. Great ear to ear smile. Her presence just fills the room.

Husband a strong, good man. Ex-Judo guy. I've seen his type at Gold's Gym before. Body builder-type. Walks with an air of confidence and strength. He has "If I want to kick your ass air, I love family deeply and I know how to get shit done" air about him. I love that. Well, their home was filled with toys in the living room. The kids were playing, watching Sponge Bob (My favorite). My cousins. Cool. These strangers were part of me. A part I never knew. They were my family, too.  My Dad’s family. Best way I can describe it was like this. When I schooled in Boston for college, coming off the airplane and seeing Mom and Dad smiling and waiting in the airport terminal after more than year away. It was that feeling. A connection of who you are while you weren’t there. It’s a welcoming of old you and new you. It is the merging of all love then and all the love now and love in the future. Its all the important stuff in one single moment.

Stealing a line from the movie Star Trek Insurrection. "A person can live a whole lifetime in a moment in time."

Well, I’m sorry but I got to run. Wish I had more time to write. But, 800+ words , plus ten minutes to get where I need to go in five minutes time.

Starbucks, Jalapenos, and A Jehovah Witness

Been planning my day by where I can charge my laptop and how long will it last? Did not mean to start blogging so much, but there's much to say. Also, set up my day by the smell of Jalapeno peppers in my cars.

Car Stinks, Why Can't I Just Throw It Away? You see, been practicing the flow more often. Taking chance coincidences more as a messages to do and be places that I would not normally not go. No, not the like the feather of Forrest Gump, but yeah more like the feather of Forest Gump. It has been working. No, I do not espouse being entirely care-free and just wait and waste your life away. I am choosing to just Flow.

I should explain where and when I am. Its almost noon and I sit drinking some Earl Grey, Captain Piccard's tea of choice. (Guess I am looking for Star Trek followers) Anyways, went over the Star Bucks on Avenue J, next to In-N-Out. Got out of LCH early, got stuff done quickly. In my car sat half of a Seafood 6 inch on my mid-console. Its felt like the gorilla in the room, that no one is talking about, but its presence is still there. I swear that I was going throw the smelly sub away, but something kept on saying, "Feed the birds" I threw the top part out on the lawn (I hope the birds get to it) Decided not to throw away, in case the ravens and finches weren't hungry.

There were many chances to dump this sandwich. Its Friday and the Waste Management picks up in the morning. There are green dumpsters up and down the street I considered using. Could have thrown it out of the window on the drive to Lancaster from Palmdale. On 70th Street East, a construction crew stopped traffic and I didn't want to get caught littering. Could have dropped it off at one of LCH many trash dispensers, but. . . This food, if not going to feed me, was going to feed some kind of animal. That decision was made.

Anyways, returned to my car and the Jalapeno smell just hits. I asked myself, "What I am doing??? There is no "F*&king birds around. Get rid of it." Then it hit, Apollo Park.

"Tina, Stop Chasing the Ducks" I Pleaded If you are not aware what Apollo Park is, it is a water reclamation park. (Funny story, I will blog some time later. I did not know at the time that its three man-made lakes were made to reclaim water. Many years back, my chihuahua Tina decided to go for a swim. Ducks were having so much fun, she on her own, decides to join and jump in Lake Aldrin. She did not know it was re-claimed water. I did not know at the time either. I thanked God, I don't swim with my mouth open. In my view, she's bowling ball small and was becoming bebe small as she kept on swimming. She did not look like she was coming back anytime soon. She may get tired and she's out there. . .and getting further out. "Buckets!!!" I scream in my head. Yeah, I played lifeguard. Guess, I won't tell you later)

Anyways, Apollo Park was where my Dad took us. Housed here is the capsule from one of the Apollo II Space mission. Its a nice oasis in the desert of the Antelope Valley. Brown, desert covered with tumbleweed and Joshua trees, then there is 26 acres of green landscaped parks with creosates and pinyon pines. Aldrin, Armstrong, and Collins are the names of the three inter-connected lakes with gaggle of geese and flock of ducks. Fishing tournaments are held here often.

If you ever watch that Honda Commercial where a group of friend drives over a patch of road and song is played. This is right in front of Apollo Park. They call it the Singing Road. Grooves in the road that causes the tires to sing when one drives over them. YouTube it. Imagine a player piano (aka, pianola or autopiano) but giant-sized. These are the self-playing piano, with perforated paper,and metal rolls. Perforated paper are the grooves in the road. Tires are the metal rolls. Honda Civic is the piano where the sound resonates.

LeeAnn, Car Delays May Be There For A Reason
(Inside Joke, Follower/Facebook Friend Post)Back to the Jalapeno smell. Considered going straight to Apollo Park, but I thought half a subway sandwich and my laptop is on two bars, maybe. Not worth it. I said, "Just, go." There it was, the answer. Mercardo Vallarta, its like a Vons Mexican style. No, more like a Pavillions Spanish-ized, if you know the difference. Got some bread and I headed out. Getting the bread forces me to go to Apollo Park. If I get in a groove, at Starbucks, I may not go. Damn, Ducks again. First Tina, now my car smells of Jalapeno peppers. I go to Starbucks charge my laptop, sync my Ipod for Nike+, and to journalize.

Starbucks is in the same parking lot. Decided not to take off my teal LCH Scrubs, too much effort. Opened the doors and I saw that my usual table, next to the outlet, had no seats. They were all taken by people dressed in their Sunday Best. Men wore Dillard jackets, paisley ties, and black leather shoes, (I think rockports). Ladies were Lane Bryant-ish. Thought it was a real estate sales meeting. Only one person in color out of ten. Or maybe it was a hospital certification board. One of the people seated looked like someone at LCH.

Anyways, got ready to set up. Sitting by the couch and coffee table I sat down. Laptop out. Ipod with connector cable in. Power chord plugged in. Journal out. Good, I was ready. All of the sudden, a fifty year old man starts talking. Dressed in a blue blazer, drinking his Venti coffee. It was to well-rehearsed and relaxed. He talking to me. Blue blazer asks me about the Hospital and when is LCH moving to the new Palmdale Regional. He's not a LCH administrator.

Looking into his eyes warmly, trying not to miss the magical moment of the encounter, I pause. Sizing him and determining how to respond is just automatic, I smile. He saw my teal scrub with LCH embroidered. Maybe he was just being cordial and just asking. He may be an Agency Certification Administrator with his staff testing me. Don't want to brush off. Don't want to offend. Maybe he is trying to sell me something. My warning lights come on. I know these chance encounters. I was in sales. He warms me up and says, he visited a friend in the LCH ER. I am naturally defensive to strangers approaching me out of the blue. We exchange small talk and ask what that meeting was.

Answer Revealed. I Shake My Head Inside and Smile It was a Jehovah Witness gathering. I smile inside. Did not know what to expect. He's going to try to close. I speak to him and say "Went to Catechism Inquiry and said I was not surprised at the encounter." His wife comes by and introduces herself. I try to get up, but I am weighed down with laptop, ipod, backpack, etc., "Joyce," she says. His name, Rob.

I feel nose tickle. A booger was coming out, Nice. I excuse myself. Thank you for the social faux pas. I grab a napkin, wipe nose, and get my bearings. Stalling,I ask the waitress for the Earl Grey ordered, but was not given. I return to my seat and setup, notice his cellphone in hand. (Common sales technique)Rob's smooth and practiced. Rob says, his associates had to leave. Step 5 in close, create urgency Good, did not have to make an excuse to extricate from the conversation. Close is coming next. Been there, done that. Did not want to be preached to. (I will bet money he is an insurance agent, car sale, or something in sales. I know the type. My Dad was one. I was one, at a time) Then he asks for the close, "Can I have your number so that we can maybe talk?" I hesitate, but decide to give it. Sales encounter is a true art. I can recognize and appreciate it, but I do not love it.

Big Smile, If You Didn't Get The Message . . .
The Jehovah crew leaves, I decide to sit at my usual table. Think to myself, "Bet Rob thinks he has a prospect. Probably saying that to his Jehovah crew, Possibilities are everywhere. . .That is how its done. God is everywhere." Okay, I don't Hate. A heavy set lady, textbook on the table corner, is deep in study a few feet away. A couple waiting for their order recognizes her and walks toward her. They exchange pleasantries. She says she teaches music and I catch ". . .Bible Study." I say to myself, "F-ing Jalapenos." I smile. I think of the many choices I had: Gym, Library, Barnes & Nobles, Los Angeles, Home. I show up at this place at this time. This juxtaposition in time and place. Approached by a Jehovah Witness. Sitting next to a lady doing Bible study.

I just shake my head. If you have been reading my posts lately, I think you will smile, too. At any rate, three more posts to go for January. By the way, just made a great trash can shot. My Ipod is synced, my car stinks of Jalapenos, and day old $1.99 bread rolls are waiting to feed ducks at Apollo Park.