My mother passed away in 1999. March 5 is her birthday. Although growing up, birthdays were not a big deal in our family, I share this post as a tribute to her memory. She visits me in dreams every so often. Lately, less so. As such, I write this recurring memory I have of my mother, albeit a nostalgic sentimental recollection. There is much more to this woman than what little is written here; she has inspired us — her children — to reach for the stars, to adhere to a strong work ethic, and to be kind with a heart full of love for everyone around us. I love you, Mom.
In an effort to understand where I am going, I must continue to explore my past. So every so often I will ramble, rant, and rave about my upbringing. Some of these are normally topics of conversation I have with friends and family. But I document them here so that I might re-read them on those rainy days and sleepless nights.
My growing up in San Antonio, Texas, gave me access to a good public school education, in my humble opinion. I was in the Gifted and Talented program, I was in the National Honor Society, but somehow I lacked the knowledge of something that I hold dear to my heart today. It wasn’t until college that I realized how much I did not know about Mexican American people like me.