Gosh, it's been quite some time since I've made a blog post. I go back and forth with deciding what blogs I'm going to keep up with, what I'm going to write about and if I can find some actual motivation to write again. I miss writing.
So... a lot has happened since my last post and not a lot at the same time. Don't quite feel like putting it all into words just yet, so in the meantime here's the latest news. We have a new furbaby.
David needs a cat. I'm allergic. We've been pondering a solution. We settled on a Russian Blue kitten, based upon some speculation that they are good for people with mild-to-moderate allergies. I don't know where my cat allergies fall onto the allergy spectrum. I've never had a cat and there have been cats that I've been ok around and others I can't be around. Luna seems to be one I'm ok with, but I worry too much. We're in the midst of Fall Allergy Hell and my allergies are flaring as it is, so bringing in a cat right now is huge wait and see.
However, I am in love with her. And she isn't going anywhere.
She is afraid of the dogs and they are curious about her. I hope we have a happy interspecies family soon though. I have high hopes it will all work out.
She is the smartest cat I've ever encountered. She's more beautiful than I ever expected and she's just really cool. Very smart, curious and fearless. She is a ball of energy and just precious.
UPDATE:
Luna Blue is amazing. She's best friends with Iggy. Since I posted this, we've lost Pepper to the Rainbow Bridge but they became friends as well. She loved jumping at his tail and he seemed to like her. They even snuggled together in bed. These are her kitten photos up through the most recent picture of her in her walking dress on the sofa. She travels with us, goes for walks, hangs out in the yard and fits well into our little family.
I didn't link to the band's version , while it was cool, the imagery was a bit disturbing.
I was sitting here tonight trying to journal, an upset stomach and a mild bit of anxiety about it, woke me. As I sat here at my desk listening to music, "Someday You Will Be Loved" played on iTunes and I had to write this entry. I hadn't heard it in a long time, but yes, it truly happened to me. I am loved.
This song came out at a time when my heart was broken and aching for someone I thought was meant to be more to me than he was. Now, of course, I realize that my heart was meant to be broken then, that I had to let go of a man not meant to be in my life so that I could be open and ready for the man who would be there for me wholly, fully and freely. Someone who could love me unconditionally. Of course, I did not know what "plans" lay ahead for me. I have all sorts of feelings about how we came to be together, but as I struggle with faith and belief, I'm not going to say more about that now.
When I felt my world had ended, that my heart would never heal the pain of being rejected, unwanted and unloved, I remember hearing this song and feeling some kind of peace wash over me. It was perfect and the lyrics paraphrased some of what was said to me as that relationship came to its end. I think it took about three years till the right man came into my life and I knew why I had to live through that heartache and pain, so that I could be ready for my heart to be full and loved by David.
David and I celebrated our second anniversary a few weeks ago. We didn't tell anyone where we went. We were at an "Undisclosed Location" so that we could have a quiet time, all alone. We hid out in Albuquerque. We stayed three nights at the Hotel Andaluz and it was a lovely getaway. We ate at Scalo on our anniversary and another night at Sadie's. I love the salsa, but the chile not so much. It reminds me of Tomasita's chile. We played tourist on the 13th. It was the 3rd month anniversary of my dad's death and we found ourselves at the San Felipe Church on Old Town Plaza. Our first morning we at breakfast at the Frontier, and then we drove around UNM. We couldn't help but be surprised by all the changes. The memories of Greek Life are still strong within us-- we never hung out in college-- even though we lived on the same street at the same time. But Greek Row has changed. So many houses torn down. We were looking to find the Kappa Sigma house, if there is one. The empty space that once was the Zeta house was sad.
We drove around a few neighborhoods we loved when we were in school. We shopped at ABQ Uptown and talked about maybe living in Albuquerque one day. We have so many balls in the air, so many hopes and dreams and plans.
We've gone through a lot in the first two years of marriage. I certainly don't want to have to look back and face what we've faced together already. I really pray that it is far behind us. I pray we find a bit of peace this year and that our second year of marriage brings us some joy. Despite all that we've faced, we have always found a bit of sunshine peeking through the darkness. While some days the sun is dim, it is still there managing to shine for us. I hope no matter what roads we travel together in the future, we continue to be as strong as we are right now, that we love as deeply, if not more and that we travel the roads no matter how rocky or smooth together.
We're selling David's house. We had it listed briefly last year with an agent that ended up disappointing us. So, for the short term, we're going to sell it on our own. I am a real estate broker, granted my license is inactive, but I do know how to sell a house. I'll work with a buyer's broker and may in fact try to get the house listed in MLS, so that it will be in the system.
It will officially be actively on the market next week, as there are no signs or information handy but I'm including this blog link so it's easy for me to find when I want to update it.
If you have $185,000 handy, come check it out. If you know someone looking for a second home or a full-time home in the Jemez Springs area, let us know. It's an about a 40 minute commute to both Rio Rancho and Los Alamos.
My mind is full of thoughts. What I’m about to say may not
be popular or even pleasant, but I’m still grieving and feeling raw right now. I’m
not big on Thanksgiving as a rule. In our daily lives, we should always give
Thanks for what we have. Whether or not we believe in God or a being greater
than ourselves, we should always recognize the good things in our lives—our
blessings—our loved ones, our talents, our treasures, our health or whatever we
hold dear. We must be thankful for those things. We should treat everyone with
honor and respect and look out for those who aren’t as fortunate.
Lately, maybe I am more conscious of what I am thankful for
and more aware of the blessings all around me. I have a loving husband who has
been kind, compassionate, loving and willing to sacrifice so much of his time
to help me, my mother and my father as he was ailing. David didn’t have to do
what he did for us, but he did so out of love and respect. He’s a treasure and
a blessing I will always cherish and thank him for being part of our lives. I
don’t need a day on the calendar to tell him this. Nor anyone else. I try to be
mindful of these things, but I fail. Maybe that is why “Thanksgiving Day”
exists. So, perhaps it is a good thing.
It goes without saying how blessed and thankful I am for my
parents. They have taught me how to love, provided me with a good home, values
and morals. The lessons they taught me have shaped me; and I hope, have molded
me into a decent human being. They gave me a solid faith and belief in God. And
I try to remember these lessons daily even though I often fail.
As I watched my dad’s health fail this year, I learned more
about myself than I thought possible. I also think I managed to find patience.
Sometimes, my dad wasn’t easy to get along with. He had a strong personality.
We fought like cats and dogs, we spared verbally, not always using PG language,
but we always made up. We also loved and adored each other. He was truly my
best friend. We did so much together and when a day went by that we didn’t see
or talk to one another, one of us called to check on the other.
When we knew he wasn’t going to get well and that his days
on this Earth were fewer and fewer, we rallied behind him and did everything we
could to make sure he was happy, comfortable and loved. My extended family pitched in
with visits, bringing meals or just being there for my mom and me. My aunts and
uncles were a blessing. They visited him, offered my mom their support, took
her to run errands or stayed with Dad so she could take a break. His friends
came to see him, prayed with him and prayed for him; my uncle faithfully
brought him the Eucharist and cousins came to help. My own friends did what
they could to make life easier for us. I’m grateful to the hospice and the
caregivers my dad had in the last few weeks of his life. I’m thankful for his
doctor who did his best to treat him even knowing it was a longshot.
Nothing about Dad’s dying was or is easy. There are bitter
feelings; there is anger and resentment. These feelings will
dissipate with time, but for the moment, nothing can ease the pain. Friends,
family and co-workers have paid their respects and honored my father in many
ways, and I will always be grateful and thankful for that. Some came to the funeral
home for the visitation; some stayed for the rosary and some sent cards. Many
offered condolences, paid for Masses or sent flowers. I hope some donated money
in his name. Many others came to Dad’s Funeral Mass and I will remember the
faces of those who were there. I don’t need to see a name in a guestbook to
know who came. Each and every one of you will forever be in my memory. I am
thankful to those, especially my non-religious/non-Catholic friends and family, who came to
his funeral out of respect. That is what mattered. I will never forget you, as
I will never forget looking around the church for faces that should have been
there and were not there-- no apologies or excuses given for their absence. That sting will lessen in time, but it does hurt. I
am so thankful for the many messages of condolences I received. And sadly, I’ll
remember waiting for the messages that never came. It’s too late for apologies
or sympathies. I don’t mean to be bitter and harbor resent because in the end,
all that mattered was my father and the people who loved him, respected him and
cared for him were there for him yesterday. We laughed, we cried and we
remembered him. And in the end, it was for him we celebrated his life—in a way
that honored him with our traditions and our faith.
And heartache. A week ago Tuesday, November 13, 2012 my beloved father died... You'd think that it just happened. The loss is deep, heartbreaking and all-consuming. The pain is great, the yearning huge and the tears never ending. He'd been sick for nearly a year-- he was strong and determined-- but in the end the cancer that he tried to beat won. When the end came, I think he found peace. His last 24 hours, he slept peacefully until he finally drifted away. There is so much to say about my father, yet the words aren't flowing. He was a passionate, kind, strong-willed, stubborn, generous, loving and wonderful man. As we prepare for his funeral tomorrow, I sit here quietly reflecting on my father's life and feel such a huge void in my life. I am not alone as I grieve and I am not alone in my loss, but my world has suddenly gotten a whole lot smaller. My father, that larger than life figure, is gone. I still see his face when I close my eyes and I can still hear his voice in my head, but to know I cannot touch him physically anymore breaks my heart. My faith is weak, yet I believe that there has to be something beyond this life, beyond this vale of tears. I think, as I was watching him slip away these last few weeks, I caught a glimpse of what just might be beyond this life. I think he could see that there was something beyond this world; it was like he was reaching out to his siblings. The loved ones that have gone before him. Maybe he could see his mama and his papa. Their names rolled off his lips like a litany of prayers, it seemed like he could see them calling out to him, yearning and waiting for him as he reached out and tried to touch them off in the distance. Thinking that gives me peace anyway. I have great memories of my father. We'd spend hours star gazing, going for rides, talking on the phone or watching the Lobo game. He was passionate about sports, politics and loved the Golf Channel and used to watch General Hospital. On Saturdays, he loved getting up and going to breakfast at the Village Inn. He taught me all about love, morality and respect. We argued like cats and dogs but we always made peace. He was stubborn and opinionated and knew how to do everything, yet he taught me so much. He was just and kind. We always managed to have a laugh or two. Sometimes, I felt like the son he always wanted, but honestly, I think he liked having a girl better. He treated me like a princess, yet I grew up independent and strong because of him. Yes, he spoiled me rotten, but he also taught me about the value of work and an education. He always wanted the best for me and even when I failed, he never failed to tell me he loved me. I am a better woman because of my father and I cherish him deeply. He cried on my wedding day, but I think he also know that I was marrying a good man, a man who like him, I loved and adored. And I know he was happy that day as well.
So tomorrow, we celebrate his life with a Mass of Christian Burial and then we lay him to rest at the Santa Fe National Cemetery. I'm not ready for it; I'm a little saddened by the thought of it, and I'm a little scared. I know I can "live" without my daddy. That's the nature of life; children usually bury their parents, but I'm just not ready to let him go. Here is a slide show I put together in his honor.
And this is the obituary I wrote for him.
Roman Jose Salazar, 84, a life-long resident of
Santa Fe, died peacefully Tuesday, Nov. 13 at his home after a lengthy illness.
Roman
was born in Española, NM, on April 17, 1928.
He was the youngest of seven children. He came to Santa Fe as a young
boy to live with his brother Ramon and wife, Dulce, so that he could attend St.
Michael’s, where he attended from elementary school through high school. He
excelled in football and basketball and was captain of both teams his senior
year. He was also a member of the Sodality of Mary. He graduated in 1947. He
received a scholarship to St. Mary’s College in Moraga CA, a small university
run by the Christian Brothers. He received a football scholarship, but the
intention was for him to play basketball as a walk on. He played a season of
football, but was sidelined after a knee injury. Soon after his second semester
of college, he returned to Española to help care for his sick mother. He then
worked at various jobs, mostly as a carpenter, until he was drafted into the US
Army in 1951. He served for two years and was honorably discharged with the
rank of Corporal in 1953.
He
enjoyed the life of a bachelor until he finally found a soul mate, in Theresa
Olivas. In 1965, they married and few years later, they had one daughter, Maria
Feliz. They had great adventures as a family. He enjoyed playing sports of all
kinds, but found his passion playing golf. He spent many years happily playing
the links at the Santa Fe Country Club, winning many tournaments with his best
friend Lee. He also enjoyed watching
Lobo basketball and attended as many games as he could at the Pit with his
daughter. He retired from Public Service Company of New Mexico in 1988 after nearly 30 years of employment. He loved tending his garden, most especially the greenest patch of
lawn in town. He enjoyed spending time with friends and family. Wherever he
went he always bumped into a friend.
He
is preceded in death by his parents Pacomio and Vincentita Salazar; brother
Ramon Salazar; sisters, Cleofas Salazar, Antonia Martinez, Celida Maestas,
Elizama Brazeal and Romancita
Salazar. He is survived by his wife of
47 years, Theresa Olivas Salazar; daughter Maria Feliz; son-in-law David Duran
and beloved poodle, Noche. He is also survived by special friends, Lee and Sara
Sanchez and their children; many nieces, nephews, great nieces and great
nephews.
Public visitation will be 5-7 p.m. and a rosary
will be recited at 7 p.m. Monday, Nov. 19, at Berardinelli Family Funeral Service, 1399 Luisa
Street, 984-8600. Mass of Christian Burial will be at 10:30 a.m. Wednesday,
Nov. 21 at the Cathedral Basilica, 131 Cathedral Pl., 982-5619. Interment will
take place at 1:30 p.m. at the National Cemetery, 501 N. Guadalupe St.,
988-6400.
The
family requests that in lieu of flowers, donations be made in his name to the
Tuition Assistance Fund at St. Michael’s High School, 100 Siringo Rd., Santa
Fe, NM 87505.
