Fly, Fly, Little Wing

I tried to write about Suey on Friday, when I could barely do anything but cry.  I couldn't do it.  Yet, how can one ever really write about Suey? How can any words encapsulate her spirit?  Even though it isn't enough, isn't nearly enough, words are what we have now.  Suey left her body last Friday, December 11 at 2:30 in the afternoon.
Oh, how I love her.  She had the most incredible laugh, a deep one from the belly, that often ended in a snort.  The best kind of snort.  And the best part about her laugh, is how often you heard it.  She was always laughing.
She had a zest about her in every thing she did.  Even sitting around the house doing nothing would have a Suey twist.  She's make us sit outside in on a warm day, and put our chairs inside the kiddie pool to cool off (with a beer in a coozie, of course).  If her husband fell asleep in the living room, she'd paint his toenails sparkly blue, then wait for him to notice. 
Suey was welcoming.  To everyone.  Just as at home at the bowling alley or on a cruise ship, Suey made friends wherever she went.  She had that special way of making every single person feel loved and included and part of the group.  She took me into her home so many times, and always made me feel that she was the lucky one to have me there. 
She made a personalized baby blanket for every baby, and they were all beautiful and unique.  She helped me create baby blankets for my friends' babies, and I'll try to continue the tradition on my own, though they won't be the same without her special flair.
Suey was real.  She was always herself, and fully present in each moment. She loved herself, and she loved everyone around her. 
She leaves behind so many broken hearts, trying to navigate this world with her life force no longer a part of it.
Most of all, she leaves behind two daughters, my cousins, teenagers.  They need their mommy.  It breaks my heart, all the life Suey is missing, and all the moments Taylor-Ann and McKenna will never get to share with her.
Rest in Peace, Suey.  You are loved, and will be remembered always.

Suey

I love you, Suey.

God, how I'm going to miss you.

Revitalize

I'm still here. Going to try to revive this thing, lest it sit in Internet purgatory, freeze-framing our lives at the point of transition.
So, apparently, I forgot I had a blog. Look! Here it is! All neglected and dusty, depicting the life of a baby who is nearly ONE YEAR OLDER than she was then. Like, she doubled.
Sofia is two now. She's a riot.
She's my big girl. She started singing the alphabet right around her second birthday, and if there is anything cuter than the way she says w, x, y and z, I don't want to hear it, because my poor heart might really just puddle up on the floor.
She recognizes her letters. One day, we were in the basement on the computer with grandma and grandpa and aunt Sarah (yes, going to the computer room is a family event. isn't it at your house?), and she sat at the other computer, pointing to the letters on the keyboard, naming each one. Except that she said W for M, but really, who can blame her? What if the key was on backwards? That's totally a W, Mom.
She counts to 15 in English, and to 10 in Spanish. Not just the numbers, either. She actually counts objects. How many (fill in the blank), Sofia? 1, 2, 3, 4. There's Four, Mommy!
For a long time, she would count the objects, and then add one. She'd count to four, and then say, There's Five! She caught on now.
She can jump. She's been working on that one for awhile, now, and would be so cute, gearing her little legs up and spring off the floor, then not actually leave the floor. WIth practice, however, both feet are now air born at the same time.
She loves to run. Run everywhere. If she's not running, she's obstinately not moving. She loves to kick, too. I took her to a high school soccer game this fall, and she really thought she was going to get to play, not just watch.
She loves music. She can sing along, the words and everything, to that fabulous hit, by Big Bird, ACDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ. And Elmo's Song. She sings that, too.
She loves her friends. Cady and Cassie, and Jay and Ella, hold very dear spaces in her heart. She's still learning sharing, and taking turns, and "nice touches" and all that, but what do we expect? She's TWO.
The child in my house is not the same one who was there the last time I wrote. She's one year older, one year wiser, and one year naughtier. She's simply fantastic.

Life is better. Slowly but surely, we're pulling ourselves out of the holes we had been stuck in.

A New Day

Sometimes things look better in the morning.  Nothing has resolved, all the problems are still there, but I have something better. 

We had our Dia de Los Reyes celebration, and celebrate we did.  We had pan de jamon, key lime pie, and lots of laughs.  Sofia helped take down the tree, and carefully placed each ornament back in the boxes, and we talked about the story each one holds.  The Kings brought her a tricycle, which she pushes around, climbing into the seat, saying "Peeeeeeese".  We drive around the livingroom, laughing and zooming.   Sofia's baby gets a turn.

Julio and I sat on the couch, watching Sofia play.  She played with her farm, dancing the the tractor's song (don't ask).  She carefully holds her baby, rocking her and kissing her, then placing her in the cradle, covering her up, rocking her, saying "Nigh Night".  

This girl, this family.  

It's better than I could ever have imagined.  Her kisses and smiles, her laughs and giggles, each new word, each new discovery, each moment is perfect.  

We're still moving in with my parents.  Our house is still in danger of foreclosure (keep hoping for that short sale), we are still unemployed.  We're formulating a plan, that I'm hoping with all my might comes to fruition and makes us  better off in the long run.  

No matter what happens, though, as long as we have each other, we'll be okay.  

the hell?

Damn.  The possibilities we thought we had have pretty much closed.  And here I was, thinking 2009 might be kinder to us and something might actually work out.  

I don't know what else to do or how to keep on keeping on.  It all seems so futile.  We're contemplating a move in with my parents.  It does not feel good to be nearly 28 years old and still floundering, still living with the parents, still needing help.  My own two feet haven't been very sturdy to stand on, it seems.  How much longer before they tire of my bullshit?  

I need to remind myself, it has only been a few months.  We have been pretty tight with money since we married five years ago, but we only actually required help one other time.  I haven't failed my life.  I've hit a rough spot that requires the help of those who love me.  

Tomorrow is January sixth, the Parra tradition.  We began it only last year, but I'm looking forward to it.  We make traditional food, take down our tree, give Sofia a small present (this year is a garage sale find from the summer; a tricycle!) from Los Reyes and remind ourselves how blessed we are to have each other.  So, I'm baking and trying to pretend that my life isn't falling apart.  

I've got to ditch the last shreds of my pride that remain with me and move back to the town I grew up in, the place I thought I left forever at 18.  

Wish me luck.