Showing posts with label amor familial. Show all posts
Showing posts with label amor familial. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

El Amor de Un Papa....Sofocador y Salvador a la Vez

AAAAAAYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!! He tratado por  varias maneras de empezar esta escritura.......... La empece primero grabando.  Luego la contemple de forma bilingue.  Finalmente escogio mi corazon escribir en su lengua natal.  Y asi es como se la presentare esta noche........... porque se trata del unico lenguaje que siempre ha hablado mi corazon.......... el del amor..........

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No es un secreto cuanto amo a mi papa.  Tengo su nombre, su caracter, su manera de ver al mundo.......... hasta llevo su inabilidad de quedarse quieto en un sitio por buen tiempo.  Pero lo que si he llevado como secreto por todos estos anos es que como la hija presentada en el audio, yo tambien tenia mis batallas con control y casi llegue a jugar con el fuego de lo que en mi caso hubiera sido la anorexia.  E igual a la perfilada en esta historia, fue mi papa-siendo en mi mente juvenil y sub-desarrollada la causa en parte por mi trastorno-resulto a ser mas que nada el que me desvio arrastrando con el poder de su amor paternal de un camino que seguramente me llevaria a un infiernito.

Mi papa es un hombre Gomez desde su cabeza hasta las unitas de los deditos pequenos de sus pies-cosa que he ido comprobando con los anos al hablar con mis primas sobre sus experiencias con los otros papas Gomez.  La vena que ha recorrido por todas nuestras comparaciones de "notas" sobre nuestros papas es la del aspeto protector de TODOS.  Algunos han sido protectores mas suaves, pero la verdad es que la mayoria han sido de lo mas estrictos-no obstante el mio.  Salio a los suyos.  
PERO, realmente no creo que conto con re-crear su propia personalidad en forma femenina al concebirme a mi.  Pero eso es exactamente lo que le toco.  AND BOY, DID HE CATCH IT!  Suffice it to say, there was ALWAAAAAAAAAAYS a battle of wills going on in the Gomez home entre padre e hija mayor.  Y yo estaba que NADIE me iba a quitar el poder personal.  NADIE.  Y como se dice que nuestras sombras esperan hasta la hora perfecta para sabotearnos cuando menos lo esperamos, eso es lo que me hizo mi rebeldia ciega y enrabiada................. me espero.................

Mi primer ano en la universidad tuve a un noviecito.  El cual no le caia bien a mi papa.  Ya pueden imaginarse la friccion, no?  Estamos hablando de un papa boricua mas tradicional de que se da cuenta a pesar de criarse en el continente y su hija obstinante y terquisima.  Pues, a este paso dirian, "pues, si se estuvo quedando en el dormitorio, cual habra sido el problema ya que seguramente no se habrian visto mucho?"-bueno, quizas personas que desconozcan nuestra cultura diran eso.................. pero yo se que estoy striking a real chord con muchas otras latinas que hicieron lo que yo hice en la universidad:  casi sali de mi casa, jeje.  Aunque ese ano vivi en el dormitorio, toditos los fines de semana me fui para casa.........toditos.  Y mas que eso, mi papa era mi profesor ese ano.................... so there was no way I wasn't gonna see him.  
Para hacer una larga historia un poco mas corta, the battle of wills ensued over whether I was gonna keep this boyfriend or not.  And I was not about to lose.  Pero una cosa que se revelo a traves de la duracion de esta batalla fue que subconcientemente yo habia empezado a acutar en maneras peligrosas para exigir y expresar mi voluntad................ para ejercer control sobre lo que yo queria............................... habia dejado de comer.

Como el papa perfilado en el audio, creo-aunque nunca me ha hablado de esto-que mi papa habia llegado a desesperarse.  El sabia que este muchacho no era nada bueno para mi, y sabia que habia empezado a coquetear con la destruccion de mi cuerpo y salud.  Que hizo?  Bueno............. no se si lo hizo a proposito o paso como uno de esos momentos serendipitous..................... pero ocasiono que durante una de nuestras clases la lectura tuvo que ver con una muchacha con anorexia.  Todas las muchachas de la clase estaban bien interesadas en el tema, que realmente la platica se enriquecio increiblemente que todas beneficiamos del exercise in delineation of facts and cause and effect.  Pero llego un momento en que alguien saco el punto de que la anorexia tiene TODO que ver con CONTROL y no con comida que mi papa y yo intercambiamos una mirada............ bien brevemente................

But it was enough to turn the light on, get me eating again, and ultimately what (among all the other times he has come to my rescue) saved my life.

Esta noche, le dedico mis gracias, como ha hecho la muchacha del audio-a un papa exigiente que sigue queriendo lo mejor para su hija.  Toda mi vida EL ha sido mi bendicion........................





Sunday, October 24, 2010

La Juana Vive en MI

Well, I finally did it.  I finally did it.  What took me so long to get started; I finally did it.  And it happened exactly as we said last night.................
Last night I attended a flamenco show with a group of friends.  And it was there at the performance that I met a woman....an older woman, a white woman, an American woman.  And we began to talk.  We talked about a mutual admiration, appreciation, and love for flamenco.  We talked about my possible desire to move to another country.  And during that part of our chat the theme of my family came up.  The conversation soon snowballed and I ended up telling her of my most assured desire to write a novel about my family.  She listened to me tell a few anecdotes and ended up sharing with me that she, herself is a writer.  (If you are thinking LOA at this juncture, so was I.)  And as a writer, she began to give me "writerly" advice-the most important of which was, "Sonya, if you want to write, then you have to WRITE.  Every day you have to take some time.  But you have to write.  And you need to do it daily."
To this admonition, my knee-jerk reaction was quite the opposite of what I expected it to be (hah, telling me I had to do anything-not even getting to the "daily" party would have been enough to turn my ears OFF under any other circumstances).  I looked at my new friend and told her, "You know.  You are really talking about discipline.  Life keeps throwing the theme of discipline up in my face everywhere I turn these days."  Interestingly enough she commiserated with me that even at her age she is feeling "led" to revisit how much of her life is given over to the discipline the goals she has for it require.  I shook my head up and down up and down and just told her with a sigh of resign that yes, once I started writing I would do it daily.
After the show my new friend introduced me to her friend, whom I had actually previously met-another older woman, however Latina.  And the three of us got to talking about our projects and as if in unison the three of our voices joined in the same exact oration; "We should all get together and write in a collective sitting." (mas o menos, you get the gist)  The very feminine energy we were talking about as the agent of heightened collective creativity was sneakily manifesting itself in the very conversation the more we talked.  By the time we literally HAD to break away from our entrancement, we had all agreed that we would sit and write together.
That was last night.
However, this moooooooorniiiiiiiiing, I wake up, turn on the computer, and see that one of my Facebook friends in NYC was convening one of her Latina Writers Group meetings.  TO-DAY.  Chacho, I shot her an inquiry so quickly asking if I could participate via skype.  And as rapidly as I asked, she answered in the affirmative.  By 1:40 this afternoon I was looking at my new sisters on the screen of my computer.  And, my God-I experience an emotion so strong and different......as if I had entered another happy, ethereal, joyful dimension-like a Fantasy Land of spiritual sorts.
We introduced ourselves.  Then we got down to the business.  I, for one, said that my intention was to just go ahead and start writing my family's story, but that my worries were that I had facts, but not details (how did person A feel when person B said X to her?).  And very calmly my new sisters told me, "Just write it.  It's all already there."  What happens?  I entered that space of creativity-a space of utter and complete other-worldliness from whence I absolutely could not wrench myself.  And it was there that I lost myself.
It's been an hour since I left the online meeting and my characters are still with me.  I still feel the galleta one of my characters got on my own cheek.  I am the one who is scared for her as she goes down that mountain alone.  In this moment I yet and still find myself captivated and under the spell of these people who once lived, who gave me life, and for whom I am breathing their own life back into all with the stroke of my pen.  Last night I couldn't sleep in pura anticipacion of just how I would get it all off the ground.  Now tonight I probably won't sleep wondering about my Juana.  Where will she go?  What will she eat?  Will she be safe?  I really want to call her and ask her, "BISABUELAAAA!!!!  ORIENTAME a contar tu historia.  DIME como tu quieres q yo relate los hechos de tu vida.  Ayudame a ayudarte a renacer en MI."  
Just as Anacaona lives, so does La Juana-y ella vive en MI.

La Juana Vive en Mi (audio en espanol)


https://vr.shapeservices.com/listen.php?hash=3b9c2dbc3eb9ca93aec242e94e2311f82e61e27f5f1a4756c

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Recorded on iPhone and posted with VR+ Lite.
http://vr.shapeservices.com