Author: Administrator

A Strand of Hair

Even though Beck had her own apartment, she would be here most of her time off from work. When she would take a shower, she’d leave hair on the shower wall.

It’s the little stuff that drives a person crazy–pans crashing when I would try to sleep, door slamming late at night.

When she died, I found a red sweater with a Target name tag sticker on it. I pulled the tag off, and I found a strand of hair stuck to the tag. I pulled on the hair and wrapped it around my finger. I sat in my car just looking at the hair, and I cried. I kissed the hair and tucked it into my sun visor clip. The edge of the hair poked on the side. Every morning I looked up at that single strand.

Some day, the doors will stop slamming. The pans will stop making noise. The hair, that you swore would drive you over the edge of sanity, will be gone.

I’m not saying that we let everything slide. I guess just put things into proportion. I still get irritated, but now I think about my reaction and my words. It’s a complete understatement to say that I’m a different person now. I may look the same, but I’m thinking differently in many ways.

Amor Eterno

During the El Paso memorials for the shooting victims, a mariachi played the Amor Eterno for the crowd. I remember seeing the face of a young musician that you see below playing and crying at the same time. Music can help us feel and heal.

Amor Eterno is a song that perfectly describes a deep love via the pain of loss. I thought I understood the lyrics to this song, but not really. Now, I feel the words deep within my core.

https://remezcla.com/music/amor-eterno-el-paso-catharsis/

Eternal Love

You are the sadness in my eyes
That weep in silence for you love
I look at myself in the mirror and see my face
The time I’ve suffered because of your goodbye
I force my thought to forget you
Because I’m always thinking of yesterday
I’d rather be sleeping than awake
Because of how much it hurts that you are not here

How I wish, ay*, that you lived
That your little eyes never had closed
And to be looking at them

Love eternal and unforgettable
Sooner or later I will be with you
To continue loving each other

I have suffered so much due to your absence
Since that day up to today, I’m not happy
And even though tranquil is my conscience
I know that I could have done more for you

Dark solitude I am living,
The same solitude of your grave
You are the love of which I have
The saddest memory in Acapulco

How I wish, ay*, that you lived
That your little eyes never had closed
And to be looking at them

Love eternal and unforgettable
Sooner or later I will be with you
To continue loving each other

Amor Eterno

[Verso 1]
Tu eres la tristeza de mis ojos
Que lloran en silencio por tu amor
Me miro en el espejo y veo en mi rostro
El tiempo que he sufrido por tu adi

Life Lessons: Class is in Session

I was an English teacher for 17 years. In my early years of teaching, I made it a requirement that each student memorizes a poem. When we analyzed John Donne’s Holy Sonnet X, Death Be Not Proud, I told them this would be a poem they would remember and draw upon when they need it. I inserted this poem into Rebecca’s funeral program because I needed it.

Holy Sonnet X: Death Be Not Proud

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe,
For, those, whom thou think

How the Story of Beck Began

Beck’s dad and I chose to have her. What I mean is that she wasn’t an accident, we planned for her. That’s how it started out. She was wanted.

Before Beck, there was Christina, her older sister. Christina was born two years earlier and was excited to be an older sister.

Throughout my pregnancy, I struggled with my relationship with her father, and when I went into labor on January 4, 1991, at 7:30 am, my mom was packed to leave for Desert Storm–literally heading out the door to go to the airport–and I was being driven by grandpa to St. Luke’s hospital. Her father never showed up at the hospital. I thought I was going at it alone until I called my aunt.

My aunt Barbara was with me during my labor and delivery. It was a long and painful process. The nurse put an iv into a vein on my right hand. You can still see a dimple where the iv left a scar on my hand. When Beck was born, she had the cord wrapped around her neck. The nurses worked on her, and my aunt started praying out loud–not a quiet “Hail Mary” but a loud Pentecostal prayer. God must have heard her because Rebecca was soon crying and placed in my arms.

I remember the following when she was born: She was a sweet little baby. I was in love with her right away. The feeling of wanting her–needing her was strong. Feeling abandoned by her father, I felt a need to be everything for her.

When Rebecca was at St. Luke’s hospital in May, I held her hand. The feeling in my chest was the same I felt when the nurses placed her on my chest when she was born–warmness and love. I wanted her and needed her.

I think maybe all mothers who lose a child feel this pain– a deep pain that starts in the chest and creeps up into the throat where the choking feeling goes on. The same place that your child runs into for hugs and tears but mostly it’s the memory of your baby looking up at you right after she’s born–just me and Beck–alone. I needed her and she needed me.

The Story of the Giver

Rebecca signed up to be an organ donor. The transplant team asked me if I wanted to write something about Beck that the team could read out loud in the operating room. They felt it was important for them to reflect on who Rebecca was and honor the gifts she was giving–the gift of life. Her lungs went to a single father of two boys–who is also a teacher. Her liver, kidneys, and heart saved lives as well. I wrote the following about her.

My name is Regina, and I’m the mother of Rebecca Maria Gonzalez. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to tell you about her.

Rebecca is a giver. She always has been. She gave joy, friendship, and love to many people. She gave us a beautiful child, her son, Elijah.

Rebecca is a brave person. She faced challenges and boldly overcame them. Sometimes she was scared, but she pushed through it.

Rebecca is a fighter. Life took jabs at her from time to time, but she punched back–hard.

The love we have for her is embedded in the atoms of her being. Each cell contains a memory of joy, laughter, love. It’s eternal.

To the fortunate people who receive her gifts:

May they be givers.

May they be brave.

May they fight–even when faced with a scary or bigger opponent.

May they feel the love we have for her when they take a breath, fall in love and feel their heartbeat fast.

Through our loss, we have found beauty in the idea that Rebecca Maria Gonzalez will continue to Give. Continue to be Brave. Continue to Fight.

Her Love will now spread to people who will now be considered part of our family–The few, the lucky few who have had the privilege to know her, love her and call her daughter, mother, sister, grand-daughter, niece, cousin, and friend.

The Waking

By Theodore Rothke

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.   
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.   
I learn by going where I have to go.

We think by feeling. What is there to know?   
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.   
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Of those so close beside me, which are you?   
God bless the Ground!   I shall walk softly there,   
And learn by going where I have to go.

Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?   
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;   
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Great Nature has another thing to do   
To you and me; so take the lively air,   
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.   
What falls away is always. And is near.   
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.   
I learn by going where I have to go.

The title of this blog comes from Rothke’s poem, The Waking. My daughter died on May 16th, 2019. When I was in the hospital with her, this poem kept rolling in my head, over and over. “This shaking keeps me steady. I should know. What falls away is always. And is near.” That describes how I felt. I was shaking inside. I had things to do…decisions to make for Beck.

Growing up, I relied on books and poetry to help me understand life. As an English teacher, I taught my students to write their thoughts and feelings. This blog is for Rebecca Maria Gonzalez. I woke up this morning feeling like I may forget her, and I got scared. I’m going to write my thoughts and share photos–for you, but mostly for me, so I can look back and remember my girl.