Michael Comes to Visit

We welcomed Michael and went out to eat at Mi Ranchito. This time we went to the American Fork one. It was no small task to get all of us here at the same time, same place. It is easier working around everyone's schedule. I was pleased to have a group photo of us at the restaurant. Tara & Sydney came at the last since Syd had a softball game and joined us later.

Just a short story about the food at this favored place. The owners hail from Guanajuato Mexico. The food tastes (to me) like my mother's and grandmother's used to fix at home. My grandmother, aka Nane was born in the city of Guanajuato. She was an excellent cook. My mother on the other hand was born in Brownsville Texas, right at the southern most border of the tip of Texas and Mexico.

My mother told me the story many times of how my grandmother used to criticize her about her "border Spanish." Kind of like Spanglish maybe? But as habit has it, how is one to know otherwise if your speaking "pure" Spanish not unless someone brings it to your attention? Well, due to those comments from Nane, my mother, Elena chose to not teach us kids how to speak Spanish (like her). It backfired on my grandmother, since none of the Rodriguez' in our immediate family conversed with her in Spanish.

My mother was only defending herself from any more criticism. The best thing would have been to teach us, and let my grandmother correct our Spanglish. However, my mother always told me if I wanted to learn to speak Spanish then to just take it in school. I took four years of it in high school and it came quite easily. I had no "gringo" accent, other than I was unable to roll my "r's." I also took the Spanish classes return missionaries take when I went to UVSC. It was my second language so I was permitted to take it even though it was spoken in our home, somewhat. I listened to it and understood most of what was said, but wasn't expected to answer or speak it to any degree at home. Interesting.

Now, back to the delicious food at Mi Ranchito. I had an experience where one of my Aunts, (Celia) got on my case about Grandpa coming to live with me. She considered it in a negative way, and it really hurt my feelings. He had been visiting me and was back in California after a short visit. I had gone back and forth to see him several times each month and was very concerned about him being alone anymore in California. I had actually called her with the intent to ask her if she would consider having him live there with them in San Antonio. She didn't even given me chance or break in the conversation to ask. I was devastated since she had said some pretty cruel things to me.

I didn't know what to do. I couldn't call Daddy and tell him because I felt it wasn't something to discuss at the time. He needed someone there for him and so later he ended up coming of his own free will and choice to live me. I never felt so misunderstood than during that time.

However I was feeling so low. I thought to myself, "what can I do to feel better and have the comfort I needed(?.)" I wanted to go "home., as if I could find my Mom there and just talk to her like old times when I was growing up. The thought then came to go to Mi Ranchito and order take out and go home to eat it at my house. I did. I ordered my take out, took it home and was soothed just as if I was eating at mama's kitchen table. She wasn't there but her memory was of her great tasting meals and it was the best Rx I could have found. I know we shouldn't eat for comfort, but this filled the need for me, and continues just going and enjoy my family as if eating at "Mama's kitchen table".

I know the hand of God is there for me as I feel his great love and comfort in my life each day. I also know my mom is there around me and still feel her love for me.
I often feel Daddy's energy around me too; I guess that is how I am able to cope with my yearning to visit with them and the loss of their company. We all (must) go through that kind of thing at some time or another.

Love, Mom