Welcome to my blog. I share with you everything I love from culture and community to food and tech.
Enjoy!
All in Ohana
A poem summarizing one aspect of my experience as part of this community I didn’t realize I would join. The Sandwich Generation is defined as a generation of people in their 30’s or 40’s who are responsible for bringing up their own minor children and for the care of their aging parents. To learn more about this experience, please read this New York Times article, “It’s Pretty Brutal: The Sandwich Generation Pays a Price.”
Reminiscing about past celebrations involving a turkey and how we gathered during a pandemic.
I smiled as we approached the front gate and heard music emanating from the carousel. I LOVE amusement parks; so much so that I worked at one as a teenager. The thrill of going upside down on a roller coaster, the smell of a fresh churro or funnel cake, and the collective energy from fellow attendees screams fun! This was our first time visiting the amusement park together. Masks on and a mini backpack loaded with hand sanitizer and wipes, we made our way towards the entrance.
Awake with my thoughts, I need to get these feelings out. Blog inspired by this horrific tragedy in El Paso, Texas and my genuine love and concern for my child.
“Sometimes, I'm still amazed that after almost thirty six years, the memory of what happened in October, 1963, is still so clear to me. Sadly enough, not all memories of those "hannabuddah days" are pleasant ones. But when you're barely fourteen years old and a police officer comes to your house, asking questions and making accusations, it isn't something easily forgotten.”
This is dedicated to the mamas who didn’t choose to go this route alone.
This is dedicated to the mamas who are stubborn and don’t want help.
This is dedicated to the mamas who think they have no one else to turn to.
We deserve to be nurtured and cared for while we bring a new life into this world.
Yes, it took two to create and for some reason you are here by yourself surrounded by hospital staff.
It’s okay to ask for help.
In early March my first and only child was born. Our journey began with a stress test. When my doctor told me my amniotic fluid was low she directed me to go to labor and delivery for an induction. After several hours in labor with no further progress, the nurses were unable to track my son’s heartbeat on the monitor. Next thing I know the doctor is coming in to discuss surgery with me. To be honest, some of this has become a blur but there will be a follow up blog to share a bit more of my birth experience and the support system I initially did not want.
In a few weeks I will be starting a new position...
One love story ends and a new one begins. I am finally allowing myself to embrace this moment. The journey has not been ideal. To my friends and colleagues who have expressed concern over the last several months, I thank you for your understanding, support and patience. It will take me some time to navigate down this new path. I am preparing to receive those who will appear and stay the course with me.
There was no significant way the plants were planted in the soil.
Branches of fruit would intermingle with the vegetables
Plush, fertile flowers growing like weeds
Tropical vegetation that can only survive in humidity
Gardenias I would pick for my hair and place behind my right ear
Which was a sign…
Chubby cheeks, runny nose
Spiky hair of black
Stubby legs and big, round belly
That’s never going to get flat
