2024 flew on by and I never posted. 2025 is more than halfway gone, and my fingers have finally started to itch for the keys. I have wanted to write so much this year, but it hasn’t ranked high enough on the list for it to get done. I’m rusty.
2024 was a tough year. From summer on, we struggled with keeping the kids healthy. Nate had Salmonella, broken bones ( each kid took a turn wearing a cast!), endless colds, severe stomachaches that debilitated my daughter for almost a year, as we searched tirelessly for the source. There were so many late nights where Eric and I found ourselves trying to motivate one another to get through one more day. In hindsight, I can see how God was faithful, aligning different people in our paths for guidance, but gosh was it difficult.
Deep life reflection 😂
Walking in faith seems easy when everything is moving along, yet so out of reach when you’re in the thick of it. I wonder how our Father sees everything from his perspective, encouraging us, whispering gently, never overbearing, allowing us the freedom to choose. Excited that he knows what is in store at the end, empathetic as we navigate life, hoping we hold space long enough to hear him and rest on his promises.
Wind tunnel in Cintra
As 2025 started, we confessed health over all of us, God’s goodness and favor. We prayed that we would slow down, and really take in the time we have with one another. I am happy to report, we have only had one fracture this year, ok, maybe 2 as we wait to hear whether or not Nate’s nose is broken from a head collision during a soccer tournament. He says it was worth the championship!
PSC champions ⚽️
I am thankful for the slowdown we have been able to embrace this summer ☀️ I am working on building character, setting my foundation on Him, for He is my family’s rock on which we choose to stand, come what may.
My father was a great father. He was always present and always made sure he had the most awkward conversations with me, no matter what. He was present and demanded our full attention in return. This always annoyed me. Why couldn’t he just leave me alone. In hindsight, I am grateful. No teenager , at least not in my household, wanted to be smothered by our parents, or asked to share the highs and lows of our day. But my dad, he never let our attitude stop him. It almost made him try harder.
What I would have my father know now, if he would listen, would be that no one ever stops being a parent. Not even in the physical absence of the parent. And we never stop being a daughter or son. It is inevitable that the roles will change, as our parents age or get sick, and we are in our prime time. But our deepest role of child and parent never fades. I’d tell my father I miss him dearly and my heart yearns for the infinite love and tenderness he offered every day; fierce, relentless and selfless.
I wish he’d try a little more today. It doesn’t matter that I’m 38 with children of my own. He was a great father, and I wish he would have finished his role, by continuing to be present and offering his endless love, unsolicited advise, and talking me into taking the latest vitamins on the market.
In his absence, he has taught me the importance of parenting and how important it is to give every single day, regardless of my children’s attitude and their age. He instilled in me a love for my Heavenly Father, for which, I will be eternally grateful.
Have a wonderful weekend knowing you are loved on both sides of heaven 💛
I’m actually a little embarrassed. My own page did not recognize me and had me go through all these loopholes to verify my identity. Once in, my jaw literally dropped when it said the last published post was from July of 2019! No! I gasped. Lately, well, more like the last year, I have written about 20 entries but I have failed to publish them.
Self portrait by Nathan
Hmm. I know, that’s what I said, too. Needless to say, this year has been such a rollercoaster and a blur. I think I had decided what I wanted to actively pursue, once Elea began to get use to staying at her pre-school. I was loving their schools (they both attended different schools last year), and I was ready to start a new season. And then, life as we knew it stopped.
Big kid morning rides
I remember that morning like it was yesterday. It was Wednesday, March 11th. My sister had a newborn at home and I had been doing some grocery shopping for her every couple weeks. I was heading over to Costco to stock her up on her toiletries. One of my very best friends was heading over to Costco herself, so we decided to have a date and meet up for coffee, which would be followed by our Costco shopping. Unbeknownst to us, that Costco trip will never be forgotten. It marked the beginning of COVID for me. It showed me what can happen to kind, normal, level headed human beings, when you do not know what the next day will look like.
America
My cart was taken 3 times, I was pushed and shoved by adults, there were toddlers crying out for their parents as people shoved them away from their guardians, food was being taken from carts that had owners, all the toiletries, including baby essentials, were being taken off the shelves and stocked piled by what felt like out of this world aggressors. I have not felt that afraid since I was a child in elementary school (different story).
Mother’s Day gift from Nathan
I left and didn’t return to Costco. It was a very unsettling feeling. What was happening and were the stores running out of food? Did I miss something on the news? Were we being invaded and never allowed to go to the store again? I lost my friend in the store. We were separated. We called and checked in. She was fine and I was fine. I sat in my car and cried. I was shaking so much I couldn’t even turn on the car. As an adult, I felt helpless to be unable to get something so simple done. I did my breathing exercises and calmed my heart, which felt like it was going to jump right out of my chest.
New Year Day 2020
It was very early. We did not understand what was happening. COVID was just like a cold. COVID was not like a cold. COVID was being used by politicians. COVID was…causing fear. The unknown. I had been following some of the stories about COVID before it was widely known and I was scared. I did not understand what it was and all the confusion around it. But did I need to worry? No one was worried in America. No one was really talking about it. It was a foreign problem. Or so, I was unconsciously thinking this way.
Quarantine beach days
It has been 5 months and 2 days since my family started quarantining. The worries are different every day. Some days are easier than others, and sometimes I look forward to bed time so I can sit in silence and tackle my worries one at a time. But then I am reminded by our good, good, Father- He has got this. This does not look like the year I had in mind. I definitely did not anticipate having to teach every day for months, unable to get alone time exceeding the seconds it takes to use the restroom (even then I normally have a guest watching me!). BUT there has been so much goodness come out of these months. They may not be as clear as we would like them to be, but they are present.
Bed time snuggles under the pillow fort kid made bed
I choose to be optimistic. I choose to trust my Father because He has always been there. Every step of the way. In the darkest moments and in my most elated moments. He has given me breath, after breath, even when I thought I could not take the next one. Life is unpredictable, to say the least, but He is faithful. And even if you don’t believe it, and you can’t see it, He works everything for good. Every. Single. Time.
I am glad this week is wrapping up. It has been full of low’s and high’s, and lots of tears. As a parent you can’t skip holidays, even if your heart is asking you to. My children love decorating and making our home feel warm and cozy. The last several months have made me feel like an actress, trying to convince my children that all is well. Pushing through the days full of activities and school engagements.
Thanksgiving 2016
Every year at our Thanksgiving dinner we go around the table randomly picking a colored M&M, telling everyone what we are thankful for given the category assigned to the colored chocolate. My mom was infamous. She always started with the category and then moved on to a speech on thankfulness. I can remember almost verbatim what she said last year. This year I searched my heart, and I knew I had millions things to be thankful for, yet I felt empty. I felt unthankful. I wasn’t given enough. This year came up short. By a lot. I was angry. I was disappointed. I was not very pleasant to be around. So, I avoided the chocolate aisle at the stores and focused on having a good time with the kids on their week off and training for our Turkey Trot in downtown LA.
Turkey Trot 2017
My heart asked me to go to our Thanksgiving church service Wednesday at noon, and although I wanted to give in, I found a list of reasons why I couldn’t go. But I mustered the courage to go against my distraught self. We were late but we made it. Elea went to the children’s nursery and Nathan went into the main sanctuary with me, as it was a special family service. We proceeded to sit all the way in the back. Physically my body was present, but my mind was going 100 miles a minute, inundated by thoughts. Then Nate tapped my leg and asked me what was on the screen.
Pastor Jeff was showing us pictures of the Universe, stars, and beauty that exists beyond our eyes. And then he proceeded to say the following, and I paraphrase:
What is man? So precious to Him that he sent Jesus to die for us.
He made the universe; but he’s thinking of you. All the rest, the beauty in galaxies, he does on his spare time. He is thinking of us.
He does all these things to awe us. He thinks about me. About my family. He collects my tears in a bottle. He is concerned with the details of my life. And yet he created the heavens. He is the same God that wants to take care of my needs. He has never not cared about me.
Before I was even born, he cared about me (Gills, 2017).
Now, I know this to be true, just like I know I have so many things to be thankful for. But my heart needed to hear it and I needed to feel it. And in that moment I did. I kept reminding myself of it the rest of the week. I kept reminding myself of it every time I cried, as I started my Turkey Trot with tears in my eyes, as I sat around an amazing dinner table full of loved ones, and as I sit here now, missing my mama.
There is a sense of responsibility I have, for you, my reader. I have been told I am a good story-teller ( live, that is). I think Lei gets her facial expressions from me. I can’t hide my emotions very well, and so, when story telling I can be extremely vivid. I very much love making people burst into laughter. I really enjoy making people feel good. It makes me happy. But this week, I have been struggling. Big time.
Every so often I find myself giving myself pep talks. You see, where as I am a strong advocate of choosing joy, it is not always the natural choice. I remind myself of all the goodness. The little miracles I see. But sometimes it does not suffice. I am left feeling cheated.
My birth anniversary is next week and instead of feeling excitement and celebration flutter, I find myself feeling bamboozled. And it is ok. It if perfectly normal, and justified, for me to feel cheated. I shared my entire life with my mother, and now I don’t get to share it with her at all. I would tell my mom the silliest things that happened to me, because for some reason, funny and weird things happen to me all the time. And she would laugh, a lot, or tell me in her serious voice that she couldn’t believe it, ” Ay no, Lita.” I don’t know whether she believed me all the time, because sometimes I would act it out so dramatically that I would burst into laughing spells. I thoroughly enjoyed hearing my mother laugh out loud.
We had a terrible heat wave earlier this week in Los Angeles. It was HOT. Miserably hot. And as I drove into the garage from Lei’s school, I found myself picking up my phone to dial my Mom. I was going to tell her how miserable I felt and how the heat wasn’t helping. I parked, turned the engine off, and cried. It’s incredible how you notice every void left behind. It is even more incredible to see how much of my life was filled by the joy my mother gave me. Her constant words of encouragement and the words that stung when spoken.
Love
It is hard for my heart to understand how life keeps moving when such a huge part of it is gone. I wish I could say it is easier this time around. I was recently asked how I do it. How do I keep moving forward? I wish I had an answer for you. I wish I could tell you that I simply eat a lot of kale and that makes it happen for me. Jesus helps me a lot. A lot, a lot ( as Lei would say). I find it so filling to list all the things I am hurt by, disappointed by, and am completely angry about and to let Jesus know. I tell him what I feel (the days I can muster words) and let him know that I am angry and that I don’t think I can get it together that day. So I carry the anger, the hurt, the pain around for as long as I think I can carry it and then I hand it over to him. I find Him much better at dealing with all the baggage. He always takes it, but I pick it up again.
Papa and Lei
At the beginning of the post I wrote about honesty and responsibility. This is my point in this round about post, I have hardly felt ok the past 5 months. I work extremely hard on smiling every day and choosing joy. I have reminders on my phone, in the bathroom mirror, and in every corner of my brain. Reminders that I can and will feel joy come to me without so much work. I have to remind myself to be gentle and kind with myself. To embrace every emotion and not stuff it in the closet. I am a work in progress and my brokeness is being molded. Whatever your brokeness may be, I hope you know you can face it all with Jesus. He takes baby steps, I should know, because He is taking them with me, again. This season will have its end.
We all dream about things we want to do and who we see ourselves around when fulfilling those dreams. Actually, most of the time we don’t even question who we would be around during those precious moments in our lives, we just assume that they will be there. Dreams keep us going. They are our goals. We strive towards them every day, wanting to make someone proud, fulfilling our own desires, or simply moving towards something different. But what do you do when your dreams are shattered? What happens when your rock is gone? When everything seizes to exist the way it should and time gets cut too short?
Aside from crying a lot, wishing time would rewind and praying every second you can- I’m not sure what else you can do. Nothing feels right and everything feels incomplete. But you take baby steps forward, because you must.
Me & Mami 1988
And this is what I’m re-learning once again. Dreams are not abandoned. They never disappear. They must simply be tweeked due to unexpected changes. The problem is, most of the unexpected changes leave us not wanting to go on. Those dreams now seem fruitless, because the joy in them doesn’t quite feel the same.
Mother’s Day 2016
I was recently gifted a key with the word DREAM engraved in it. My dearest sister wanted to remind me that our dreams must go on, even if everything feels broken. Our mother was our encourager, she loved watching us grow into new roles and would push us forward every time we wanted to throw in the towel.
Crossing the finish line
Seattle glass museum
We did it!
I was in Seattle this past weekend, running a race with my sister. And surprisingly, while I ran I felt great, better than any other time, even though I had ran very little since my mother went home. I had to hold back tears during the last leg of the race because I could feel my mother with me, cheering me on, telling me I could finish strong. And I did, I beat my previous time and felt full of joy. I was proud for doing something I had no desire to do. Honestly, I wanted to stay in our beautiful airbnb and have a pity party with the gloomy Seattle weather.
Nana & Nene Fall 2016
My Mother is not gone, her presence is just different now. And while nothing will ever be the same, things will be good, it will feel great again, perhaps not the way I thought it would; but it will. I know it. And even if I don’t believe it now, I will continue to confess it over myself, until I not only believe, but know it to be true.
A couple days ago I was leaving my my sister’s place when she noticed that my tire was completely flat. My immediate response was, “oh, that tire is kinda funny, it’s always a little flat.” My sister looked at me like I was crazy, so I walked over to look at the tire. She proceeded with directions: I was to go directly to the nearest gas station and get it taken care of. I obliged. I got out of the car, pulled Elea out of her car seat and proceeded to go inside to pay for the air. I thought I was putting air in the tire but the tire wasn’t looking any better. I re-read the instructions and kept trying. After no success I finally reached inside to grab my phone to call Eric, only to realize I had no phone. So, I looked around and approached the kindest looking person, an older gentleman who I later realized was living out of his car. He walked over and said he would be more than happy to help me. The problem was simple: I never pushed the ON button. He filled the tire and then taught me how to do it. He expressed concern over my safety with such a flat tire and then went on to grab his own meter to show me what I should expect my tire to read every time (the one provided by the gas station was broken).
Although it felt like it took me 5 minutes to do all this, I was actually at the gas station for almost an hour. As I drove home, I processed the risk of the flat tire and although I knew the car was driving funny, I was completely unaware. And even when my sister was trying to point it out to me, I wasn’t really concerned until I saw how the tire looked post air. My tire pressure light had been on and I still didn’t take the time to look at it, or at least to make sure it wasn’t bad. It is a lot like my gasoline habit. I can get down to zero miles but it doesn’t make me nervous. I know, because I read somewhere (please don’t trust this), that when your car says 0 miles it really can go an additional 20 miles before it leaves you stranded. I have never been stranded but have come pretty close to getting a panic attack, when lost, running low on gas, phone is dead, and am in a completely unknown place (happened to me in December). Yet, I do it again and again.
So, as I processed this issue and my overwhelming amount of trust in my car, I saw a recurring theme. I am capable of trusting wholeheartedly. No problem. But most recently I have found myself teetering between believing whole heartedly in something I know can be done and surrendering hope. Like a tire needing air, I was infused multiple times this past week with unbelievable confirmation that hope is not lost. You see Faith is amazing, but no one said it would be easy. In the midst of the storm, you have to find peace and hold on to it. And while there, you’ll see the beauty of believing. Be the tire that gets infused with hope and faith, because our Father is your rim. So even if you are left without air (or gas), you will keep going even if you wobble through, the rim will keep you upright until you can get infused once again.
XO
P.S. try not to go without air in your tires and/or gas. Trusting in your car is not nearly as good as trusting in God. Whereas eventually I will get stranded, God will never let me down.
Often times I get so caught up with the things I’m asking God for, that I completely forget about the things he so diligently provides me with. The last couple weeks have been a bit difficult for my family as we slowly enter grounds we have never had to before. Last week I dropped Nate off at school, jumped in the car and let it all out. I cried the way Nate and Lei cry when they want one more piece of chocolate and I won’t budge (serious crying here 🙂 ). Thankfully Eric was in the car and he was able to bring me back by reminding me of God’s goodness. And this is the thing, His goodness is so good, it is overwhelming. He is here to overwhelm the things that overwhelm us.
In the midst of difficult moments, He is always there although it may seem as though he is absent. The more I calm my mind and let go, the more I seem to see his hand over my life. Difficult moments will always be part of our life simply because we live on this earth, but they don’t have to be hopeless. God delivers us hope. He has given us the weapons with which to battle against anything. Crying is welcomed. He listens and he loves us for who we are. He understands.
Thankfulness is key. Do what you can for others because you can. You have the power to change the atmosphere of any circumstance. Be bold. Go about your day knowing that he will deliver, because he will. Perhaps not in the way that you expect it, but he will never let you down.
Confessions of a Wife, Mother & Cook 
