November 2023 – Confessions of a Wife, Mother & Cook

I’ve been meaning to post, but all my time has been consumed in finishing a story I have been working on since last year. I have mentioned it before because I have wanted to throw it away so many times. But thanks to my writing group, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I can feel the end coming, and it did. I haven’t edited yet, so I can’t say its complete, but I think I have given an ending. I promise a preview once I’m done. The ending came to me yesterday morning as I sat awkwardly facing at a local cafe. I knew sitting against the wall facing everyone coming in would be weird, but I thought if I worked hard and was fruitful with my time, I wouldn’t have to stay very long.

3 hours later and 3 families brunching right across from me, I was done. I had finished editing other pieces of the story, given the story an ending, and listened in (not intentionally) on 3 loving families. My writing blues were over. I do have to admit, I drank a fresh cup of very strong coffee every hour. I didn’t think I needed it but I felt bad taking the table for so long. By the time I left, my hands were trembling from the caffeine running through my veins and because I was alone, I couldn’t leave my space to run to the restroom. But all funny things aside, I felt accomplished and proud of myself for getting up, showing up, and getting it done. Now whether it’s good or not, will be a topic of discussion for a different blog post. lol.

Anyway, while sitting there every family that came accross spoke a different language, and it was music to my ears. The diversity of Los Angeles is one of my favorite things. I couldn’t help and smile at the 2 year old speaking spanglish and the family who brought their friends to brunch while they visited from China. The flow of language; English, Spanish, Mandarin, back and forth, without skipping a beat. How beautiful it is, when we embrace diversity, and are genuinely curious about differences. It makes for a beautiful world with acceptance.

I hope you all have a wonderful Sunday evening and an even better week!

My mom left this earth in 2017 and since her departure, every morning on the day of my birthday, I wonder what she felt when her water broke on October 31st, 1984. I never bothered to ask her much because I assumed she would be around for a long time. I wonder if she was excited, yet worried that soon enough she would be coming home with a newborn in tow, while she had a 4 and 2 year old eagerly awaiting her arrival. I would have been overwhelmed and maybe shedding some tears thinking of the amount of work I was walking into.

I wonder what her thoughts were when they cleaned me up and handed me over to her. Did it feel like a blanket of love over her body, did she cry from the power of connection she felt? or was it relief she felt at it all being over, especially since she didn’t take any drugs to alleviate the birthing pain. Did she then think about my brother and sister, and yearn to have them present, as her heart expanded a little more to make room for one more. I wonder what she worried about with her third child. I felt relief and fear of the sleepless nights that were upon me. But I wonder if that was even a concern for my mother, who was the baby of the siblings, and whose kids were especially loved by everyone as the youngest around.

I wish I would have spent more time talking to my mother about these little things. Though not very important, they are the little stories I think about when I am laying down at night wishing I had one more night to sit on the couch with mom, holding her soft hands, running my fingers in and out of the outline of hers, while watching Caso Cerrado, the Spanish version of Judge Judy.

My birthday’s remind me so much of my mom. I am super grateful I have memories to lean into and an amazing family to love on.

Confessions of a Wife, Mother & Cook

Month: November 2023

The writing blues

The new meaning of birthdays