Where is the Wisdom

During the past few months, I have written stories about my family, things we have done together, and how I feel about Christina not being here physically. While I think about all of these stories, events, and feelings, it becomes evident, to me, that there is a great deal of randomness in our lives; there is no master plan.

Of course, we all have goals and fantasies, things we would like to do. To attempt to accomplish these things we create paths in our minds, others write them in steps or priorities. These paths help us stay focused on these goals, but what I have experienced is that the actual execution of these steps takes place in an ether we live in not in isolation. Naturally, the path to our goals is heavily modulated by the environment we are in; by our lives.

Christina and I had many plans. A recurring fantasy was to have a long holiday with her. We often talked about going to a warm place and simmering our bodies on a white sand beach. Sorry girls, this fantasy only included Mom and me; no kids in this dream which hits at the idea that was going to be profoundly intimate.

It continues to be difficult for my daughters; they were both very close to their mother, more than anyone could imagine. This is normal because their lives were developing around their mother, and she was an exceptional one.

I cannot occupy the vacuum left by Christina and can only take a more active role in their development. The message I pass to my daughters is that they can continue to learn from their mother; she lives in their memory. My intention is not to delegate to the memory of their mother to help them with their journey and I truly believe Christina can continue to be a source of inspiration to reach their goals.

Tomorrow is Christina's birthday and it will mark the third year we celebrate October 24th without her. I will make Chicken Paprikash, her favorite meal. Raquel is preparing a cake, she started today and she is baking away as I type. I bought a bottle of Tokaji, a classic Hungarian dessert wine to have a little toast to her memory.

Undeniably, Christina is still part of our lives.

When I started writing these stories my objective was to record my experience during almost 30 years of getting to know someone. I have written a few stories about myself and that was not the intention.

This post does not have to make sense. It feels like I am rambling, just writing things down as I talk to myself in this perennial monolog. Perhaps, all I am doing is trying to make sense of what has happened as I move through time.

Comments

It's been a Long Time Since I've Seen Her

To our daughters; I learned so much from your mother! She was my lover and my bosom friend. The summer of 1992 was running in earnest and Mom and I were escaping every day to many different places around the mainland. We were having the time of our lives! At the end of the summer, I did not have a penny left but was the happiest man alive! Mom had a white 1989 Chevrolet Cavalier station wagon. Her car smelled like a wet dog, Sam, her dog, was the main passenger before she met me. That car would break down every 100 kilometers or so and would run out of gas as soon as the gas red light went on, and guess who had to push; your Dad! But, we were like peas and carrots and as happy as they came. You always tell me - " Dad, you know strange old words and expressions no one uses these days! " Your mom is responsible for that! I learned what a "Sea Shanty" is in that white Cavalier listening to CBC radio. The station had a show on sailors and fishermen and how po

Settling the Score

Today, completely out of the blue, I remembered a story from my childhood. In my neighborhood, there was a child whom everyone called "Buchee". This fellow was a lot older than me, about three or four years older. Therefore, if I recall correctly he must have been a young teenager when these events happened. Buchee lived near my maternal grandparents, who lived two blocks from where I lived. Every time I visited my grandparents I had to walk by Buchee's house and we would exchange hellos and sometimes we would tease each other lightly, nothing offensive. I would visit my grandparents daily after school therefore I would walk the distance every day and most days Buchee and I would exchange friendly words. One evening a group of children, including me, were playing cards on the sidewalk, a few doors from my grandparents. These games could be very competitive and the currency used at that time was crystal marbles. At some point, the stakes were very high and the poo

Dear Love

Dear Love, Forgive me, it has been a while since I have written to you. It is not for the lack of news; home is buzzing with events typical of growing pains and gaining experience. For me, it is just about missing your hands, warm body, your words; missing planning something to do together. I must admit, you always had the best ideas. Recently I became a Master Chef , but not the kind of chef popular among all ages; oh, no! I cook your dishes, daring, adventurous, and full of flavor! I set the table and see you on your chair , right opposite to mine displaying my favorite smile, approving the dinner. I remember when you made Spaghetti Tomato Bassilic for the first time. You thought that I was not going to like it. Boy, were you in for a surprise! It became my favorite dinner! You made it for me. What a treat! Oh, Christina, you were the wife I always wanted to have! The fact that we found each other made me feel very special. We worked hard to be together and celebrated

My Family After Tragedy

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