How to properly secure my baby brother’s car seat

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A Prayer for the Hopeless

The weather in Orlando has been a blessing these days; clear skies and a nice, cool breeze It invited me to step outside and enjoy God’s gift of this day. While running some errands, immersed in my own thoughts, I saw the same homeless man I bought breakfast for months ago on a street that I frequent a lot.  I immediately turned around and stopped to say hi. He didn’t recognize me, not that I cared about that.  As I approached him, I noticed that his appearance has gone from bad to worse. He appears to be in his late 50’s; medium built and doesn’t look to me like he is into drugs or something other than having a look of hopelessness.  His clothes were disheveled and he appeared to be disconnected, sad-looking.  I greeted him; he looks up at me with his bright blue eyes, mumbled something and stared away assuming the same look of despair he had before. I stared at him not knowing what to say; he wore eye glasses that gave me the impression he may have had a good job in the past, a banker perhaps. His glasses gave him sort of an executive look despite of the look of his clothes. He looks educated though he didn’t said much. His body language spoken like a man who lost his hopes of living the life he once lived. I wonder if this man in front of me had a life once that he enjoyed, had dreams, a family, and possessions he no longer has. Only several shopping bags around him and the clothes on his back.  I pulled couple dollars and coins I had in my pocket and gave it to him with God’s blessings. He muttered thanks without looking at me and continue with his gaze fixed on the road in front of him, staring at nothing.  I said a silent prayer for him as I drove away, asking God to guide this man, to give him hope so he can find his path again one day and bring peace back in his life.

Las Cronicas de mi Abuelo: La Facultad

Facultad*:

1   Capacidad o aptitud natural, física o moral, que tiene la persona para hacer cosas

2   Autoridad o derecho que tiene una persona para hacer algo

Dice mi Abuelo que: La facultad se desarrolla con la practica. La experiencia que uno adquiere puede llevar a uno a conocer muchas otras variedades de la facultad.

Dios es eterno, inmutable, inmaterial, único, todopoderoso, soberanamente justo y bueno. Las leyes de Dios son muy estrictas, iguales para todo el mundo como los rayos del sol que alumbran a todo el mundo. Asi son las leyes de Dios.

El que practica el amor al prójimo, se aproxima ala naturaleza espiritual que cada uno de nosotros debe ser, útil con arreglo a las facultades y a los medios que Dios  ha puesto a su disposición. El fuerte y el poderoso deben apoyar y proteger al débil, por que  el que abusa de su fuerza y poderío para oprimir a su semejante viola la ley de Dios.

Concluye Abuelo con: Dios es el creador del universo, la soberana inteligencia, el infinito, el gran espíritu, la facultad.

http://es.thefreedictionary.com/facultad

Las Cronicas de mi Abuelo: La Doctrina

Dice mi abuelo que: “como base de la doctrina,  empezar con los diez mandamientos de la ley divina. Porque medio puede neutralizarse la influencia de los espíritus malos? Haciendo bien y poniendo toda vuestra confianza en Dios. Aquella persona que no es puro de corazón ninguna influencia puede tener. Los espíritus buenos deprecian a esa clase de persona por que la persona mala se ha alejado de las leyes de Dios y la persona buena esta con las leyes de Dios. Que se debe entender por un Angel Guardian? es el espíritu protector de orden elevado. Cual es la misión del espíritu protector? la de un padre respecto a sus hijos, llevar a su protegido por el buen camino y ayudarle con sus consejos.”

Abuelo concluye con: ” el pensamiento es siempre una advertencia del espíritu protector.”

Las Cronicas de Mi Abuelo: El Ledger de Mi Abuelo ( My Grampa’s Ledger)

Hace un tiempo atrás recibí por parte de mi querida Tía un libro que le pertenecía a mi Abuelo. Ella me lo envió pensando que al yo haber escrito un libro recientemente, disfrutaría  leer los pensamientos y visiones personales de mi Abuelo. Ella no se equivocó; para mí es un honor recibir este libro. Mi abuelo murió hace 13 años, a la edad de 87 años y siempre lo recuerdo como una persona carismática y de muy buen humor. Cuando recibí el libro, me llene de mucha alegría y nostalgia recordando a mi Abuelo.  La caratula del libro refleja sus años, sus páginas amarillas del tiempo pasado. Tener el libro en mis manos es como un viaje al pasado, visitando los pensamientos y el punto de vista de mi Abuelo leyendo páginas con fechas desde 1963. En la primera página me doy cuenta de que este libro está marcado como el número dos Me encantarían leer el primero. Mi abuelo le puso de título a su libro muy apropiadamente ” La Fuente de Oro” por las riquezas en principios escrito en  sus páginas. Es mi intención transcribir sus pensamientos aquí en este blog, haciéndole un tributo  a ese gran hombre a quien siempre admire. Aquí continuo con humildad el trabajo  que el comenzó hace medio siglo atrás.

En honor a mi Abuelo

Some time ago, I received from my dear aunt a book that belonged to my Grandfather. She sent it to me thinking that since I wrote a book juts recently, I will enjoy his book. She was not mistaken; to me it is an honor to receive this book. My Grandfather dies 13 years ago, he was 87 years old. I always remembered him as a charismatic person with a great sense of humor. When I received the book, I was filled with joy and nostalgia remembering my Grandfather, mi Abuelo. The book cover reflected the years; the yellow pages its age. Holding this book in my hands is like a trip back in time visiting mi Abuelo’s thoughts and his point of view reading pages dating back in 1963. On the first page I noticed that mi Abuelo named his book “the fountain of gold” or “the source of gold” very appropriate because of the wealth of principles written in its pages. It is my intention to transcript his thoughts here in this blog, making a tribute to the great man I’ve always admired. Here I humbly continue with the work he started half a century ago.

In honor of mi Abuelo

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The Public Restroom Essay

A public restroom is the place we all rely on when we are outside of  the comfort of our homes.  It is the space of rest for our basic necessities and  no place can be without  having one near. I spend much of my time on the road and visit public restrooms every day. Why I’m talking about this subject? No, I am not into any fetish of some bizarre nature, but I find  interesting the way humans behave on a subject that is so natural and necessary to do. I have “studied” public restroom habits in the workplace over the years and am aware of things that happen systematically. So if you’re not disgusted already, please continue reading.

They’re different types of public restrooms: rest area restrooms, mall restrooms, theme park restrooms, restaurant restrooms, gas station restrooms (yuck!) and office or corporate restrooms. Supermarket restrooms are the best; clean, fully stocked and a pleasure to do business in. I will leave out gas station restrooms as most of them are deplorable and to me are the very last resource. Over all, I find public restrooms a safe haven for people just as the airport smoking rooms are for smokers ( if they still around). Here one can unwind carelessly; shy in the beginning, but comfortable as the “business” is taken care off. There is however, some protocol in every public restroom, depending which type of restroom you’re using.

Generally, inside a restroom all manners, class, and egos are left outside. I’ll get into the egos later. Inside the four walls, everybody is equal and with one thing in mind: doing what nature calls. The room gets filled with familiar noises, just like the ones at home, but they’re let go with some sort of fear. It is part of being human to take care of our biological needs, but when we are in public it seems to be weird to do so. People see dogs doing their thing on the street and give a weak, embarrassing laugh at their actions like it is something that it has to be taken care off, but we don’t talk about it. Once one enters a restroom, there is only one thing in mind and that is to take care of “business”. If you’re in a mall, rest area or theme park restroom, you’re free to roam unnoticed. Nobody cares!

Very few people say hi to each other and carry on conversations inside restrooms. Most of the people want to come in and out without even get noticed. I wonder if people pray to walk into an empty restroom. I know I do when I am in a real emergency. The doors open abruptly and there is a sense of urgency in people steps. I have not seen anyone yet walking so casually as if walking in a mall, just wondering around. No, everybody wants to do their thing and get on with their own “real” business outside. If using the urinals, the protocol calls for skipping one urinal. I have never seeing two people side by side in the urinals unless they’re close friends or the restroom is in peak time. In an office or business restroom, casual conversations are normal yet everyone seems to put their conversation on hold until finish with their business. Restaurant restroom protocol is the same but at a smaller scale. Talk is short and general. Passing gas can be heard and it seems to go unnoticed. It appears to be acceptable as long as is short so it won’t disrupt the conversation and does not stink. People do spit on the urinals and blow their noses, just as if they would do in their own homes, I think.

Using the stalls gets a little trickier though. First of all, it is quieter than the urinals, nobody talks. Since the matter to take care of is more difficult for some people, the stalls environment is more relaxing and private thus promotes concentration. Only the shuffle of newspaper, someone coughing up, or the faint, breathless struggle of a bowel movement can be heard. I pray for an empty stall since they’re a hot commodity. Skipping a stall applies here too! Personally, I don’t want to hear the struggle some people go through, let alone the smell. I have been in situations where it seems like a series of bombs are exploding loudly in the stall next to me. I pity the poor man! Broken locks and lack of paper are not so much of a problem, but sitting in a warm toilet seat is. There is nothing more frustrating than sitting in a warm, freshly used seat, where the smell of a good dumped load still lingers in the air. I am already there with my pants down, not going to pull up my pants and move to another stall now.

Most of the time, I get a clean, sparkling toilet, which usually has the toilet seat up, a sign that it was cleaned recently. This is priceless! Sometimes I’ve come in the restroom as another person walks out, typical in a corporate setting.  Now, this is trouble; it creates anxiety to whether which stall was used. In this case, everything is up to guessing and good luck. The only way to find out is by sitting on the toilet seat, unless the smell gives a hint. Flushing an empty toilet once seems to be the norm, maybe twice, and grabbing the sanitary toilet seat cover if there is any. Otherwise a good wipe on the toilet seat with toilet paper would do. At least, for my peace of mind that is. For restrooms that have gaps between the walls and doors, it is a priority to take care of these first. Nobody would like to see me  nor do I want to see their faces. One thing to remember is that these may be people one see and do business with every day. Nobody would like to be identified as the one who just came out of the bathroom after a diarrhea fit. Many times I have heard people saying “man, someone was sick in the bathroom or such and such have diarrhea” Nope! I rather stay anonymous or be invisible. While I sit there doing my thing, looking through the low-cut door, I see people moving in and out. They’re checking out the stalls before going in, inspecting the inside and looking for some reading material scattered on the floor. By the way, this is a sign that stall has being used, so I usually grab the papers and move to another stall.

Over the years I have been able to recognize footwear. No, I don’t look constantly to the floor, nor I have a thing for shoes, just that I am able to find the shoes with the person who wears it and I am pretty damn good at it. I have the same ability with body shape, hands, and voice. So, when I come in the restroom, I can recognize who is in, who came out, or who is having some serious trouble. I keep this “sixth sense” to myself and chuckle discretely when someone who I dislike or had run in with in the past is inside the stall, having a miserable time, vulnerable, and helpless (yeah, shame on me). So much for the big macho guy outside the bathroom with a super ego, but inside the restroom stall is just another human being… going through some rough times though.

The Chronicles of Ian Karlo: 1st. Birthday

Our baby Ian Karlo turns one year young. His first birthday, his numero uno of many more to come.   I  remember so vividly the day he was born;  the way he looked at us, the smell of his skin and the look in his eyes. I remember how excited was Karymar when she held her little brother. To this date that excitement has never faded away. She loves her brother, loves to read him stories, plays  and hugs him every time she has the opportunity day and night. She does get mad at him when he disturbs her pillow castle or her art work but she knows he’s little and that she must teach him and treat him well.   I thank God for  his wisdom for blessing us with children  at the right time. It is a wonderful thing to see Karymar taking care of her little brother; it was meant to be that way, no matter how much we tried to have them other way. It teaches us to love them as unique people of this family.

Ian Karlo has grown to be a big boy,  crawling fast, standing on his own, rushing to take little steps. Soon he will be walking and talking more. All in due time; no rush or pressure as we want to enjoy every stage of his growth. He started to show some of his character too…I wonder where he got that from 😉 We celebrated his birthday at Disney’s Magic Kingdom where he got his first hair cut at the barber shop. Now he looks  more like his daddy and with traces of his mother of course.

I remember writing his first chronicle at the hospital and recording his progress  over time in this blog.  I want him to know a little background of his life, something to remember forever.   I can’t wait for him to read it back to us when he is older. That will be another chapter for sure;  cherished moments living life as a family together, the way God has it planned for us.

Click on Ian Karlo’s picture to see more…