We're Open

My brother seems to think I disagree with him or don't like him for what he does sometimes or maybe because I haven't laid the facts on the table. And it's entirely true that often times we disagree. Simply put, we are brothers and brothers disagree. What brothers will disagree on may vary and it's really not that important so long as they disagree because it is healthy to do so.

My brother leads a good life and he has earned everything he has. He has created things out of thin air and put the money in the bank each event. He works around the clock and no endeavor poses any obstacles he can't overcome triumphantly and earnestly.

During and after hurricane Ike, my brother didn't pause with any self pity that his very own enterprise was in obfuscation nor did he once relent to any means of acceptance of failure or surrender. He got out the generator, found a hand saw and proceeded with or without fate to render him capable.

The power was out at his house near or after midnight the Friday of the hurricane. The very next day my mother kept reciting "are you going to call the power company?" and "is Monk coming over?". My mother is somewhat terminally ill with Alzheimer's. Fish oil isn't helping. Curt kept his patience, nodded his head and kept going.

His largest concern that followed was rather or not the power was on at his work where the server(s) for his website was powered and was to remain energized at all times. This wasn't planned for and the power was in fact gone for the time being.

Plan B: Get gas and get out the generator and hook everything up.

We drove over to the Camelback Displays office to find a miracle. With all the tree damage in the neighborhood and all the large and aged trees on his property at the office, not a single branch defecated the structure in any way whatsoever that housed his enterprise. Amongst all the greater and larger trees that could have done the worst damage, none so much as grazed the sides of the building.

We drove over to the nearby Lowe's and bought a couple of pairs of gloves, a hatchet and a hand held branch saw. After a few cuts and pulls, we made a make shift starter pile to reveal that even his wife's car wasn't dented in any way. Chris must have left her car there and rode home with Curt the days earlier.

So there's no power and it's Monday. A lot of people would have sat pretty on their hands and watched TV. The power was on at home now after all. No time for jokes and we need to get on our feet pronto! But there's good reason and then some. The two of them have a nice house out there where they live and they live a decent lifestyle. However, they also take care of two elderly moms single-handedly at a great and enormous emotional expense (and burden). It's also true the rest of us lend a hand from time to time. But our help is the equivalent of rain in the desert for the better end and it's only a fraction of their efforts. Let the truth be candidly known.

Monday's a wash. Mostly everyone shows up at the office as instructed. But no real activity. No power means no phone system, no ac, no lights, no computers but unfortunately no phone calls from customers. What's the plan? A stream of confidence emerges out of two brains. Load the cars with computers, the fax machine and whatever else. Call the phone company and have them transfer the phone number to the house! Let's move!

And move they did. I went over there a few days later and saw that each room downstairs of their house had transformed for the most part into a center of a little chaos combined with ingenuity and more importantly ringing phones and ……sales. With files on folding tables and people on the phone I felt as though I must walk with careful adherence (wood floors) and speak lightly as not to disturb any commerce being handled by the staff in close proximity.

Why am I telling you all this!??

My brother has had to make some tough decisions from time to time. In fact he made one today. I am sure he doesn't always like the keys God handed him and I'm sure he and his wife wish they could find the freedom they truly deserve. Curt makes decisions. But he also finds answers and solves problems. Curt stays up late and researches my mothers' illness by himself! The decisions one makes aren't always the popular ones. But not making any gets you what?

The decision he chose today, I agreed with. I probably didn't say it in the way I should have. But let me try again. I trust Curt to the utmost more so than the air I breathe. If he feels what he is doing is right, I have no choice other than to stand behind him, He is one of the most gracious people I know and has the most integrity out of all of us. I aspire to stand with two feet wearing his shoes.

His cell phone rings. Someone else answers. I stuff another spoonful of Chinese food in my mouth. "Yes….weren't open…yeah…we're fine. What can I do for you today?"……….

This Year So Far

Allot has happened this year so far. There have been some extraordinary events. For example, my oldest daughter got married and the wedding was spectacular. Also, and equally as important, my youngest daughter graduated high school, got accepted to a major culinary school in New York and now owns her own car. Unfortunately her grandma passed away a couple of months ago.

The mortgage business is mostly non-existant which leaves me to figure out what to do instead. I am planning some websites to sell stuff like home decor, mannequins, dress forms and store fixtures. I have eclectic tastes and hopefully I'll aquire customers of the like.

After hurricain Ike, my brother moved lock stock and barrel everything from his office to his house along with about 7 employees to continue working and stay afloat. His office didnt have power for more than two weeks and things looked bleak. But he and my sisterinlaw pulled it off famously. I am truly proud of them both. Oh yeah. And my oldest daughter works for them and she stayed on board the ship and helped too.

What's ahead? Well.......Hillary won't be our first woman president. I was actually hoping she would have got the nomination but it's my opinion her campagne against Barack Obama got out of hand with smears and inuendos.

Just when you think things are either OK or couldn't be worse, Sara Palin hops your fence and poops in your pool. McCain is too fuckin old and Palin is an outrageous plymbletwit. Now what? You'd better go vote! McCain could get sick and croke and we get stuck with that..........that voice! Politics is so hideous. I'm glad I'm just a bumb.

Back To Marilyn

Suddenly as if out of no where, Marilyn appeared and Amy had an instant grandmother. About 10 years ago Marilyn succeeded in her search for her daughter she was forced to put up for adoption at the infant’s birth. That would be Amy's mother Cynthia. The reunion (or union) took place not far from here. Marilyn brought en tow her siblings Jan and Joyce who immediately became Aunt Jan and Aunt Joyce. Joining the entourage were Jennifer and Natalie, daughters of the aunts. Cynthia ever thoughtfully called yours truly to deliver her daughter Amy (then about 8) in order to show her off. Can't say that I blame her. Amy was a jewel back then and the ladies found her to be an utmost delight. Marilyn was overjoyed and so was Amy. After all, Amy really never had a mom figure with the exception of her aunt Chris, my sister in law who could only fill the void as well as anyone could much less aunts and cousins. And of course Amy lived with her dad. I leave that up to interpretation.

Biological mothers across the western hemisphere experience buyer's/seller's remorse (or adoptor's remorse?) after the fact. One might put labels on such women. One might consider the conscience of such a choice whatever the circumstances. Certainly thoughts pass to and fro with regard to a better home for the infant or a better life. Or maybe there is an insurmountable realm of guilt no one else could possibly fathom. Financial reasons could come into play or personal problems or criminal and legal issues. Or maybe it's because of plain old fear. Dodge the question. Leave the answer. Forget the reason. Buy some time and clean up your act. Bedevil your own soul with thoughts that transform into destruction (or destructive behavior or worse). Do you wonder of how it might have been? Do you fantasize any number of scenarios? Judge and ye shall be judged. Can you do the unthinkable? The impossible? What should I do? What have I done? These calamitous thoughts travel through the mind. I can’t imagine. Can you?

There are hundreds, possibly thousands of non judgmental organizations across the country facilitating a mother's quest to find their already adopted child. Some of these women have waited until the child had turned 18 or of legal age before records could be unsealed or discovered. Thus the hunt begins and so it shall. Endless letters (now e-mails) as well, phone calls, paperwork and prayers. Allow me to plagiarize a bit from a forum I found with great ease through Google:

"Parents who have given up their children for adoption are welcome on our adoption registry. If you are a birth mother, trying to find adopted children you gave up, we are here to help. We understand that circumstances in a person's life can be difficult, and that as a child's natural mother you may have known the best choice for your child was an adoption. Often a father was not given an opportunity to be involved in the adoption decision, so an adoption registry can be your only option to find adopted children. At iwasadopted.com we help adopted children with finding biological parents and we help biological parents find adopted children. Everyone is welcome!"

But there's more! And behold wishes can still come true. Be careful what you wish for. In the end it could be something a person may have as fuel for more guilt and further self loathing. You may not get my point, but I do for what it’s worth.

Cynthia was in fact Marilyn's long lost daughter. Or at least the daughter she gave birth to. It was just a matter of time before the relationship found its unsuitable closure. If not in one way, in another less caustic and not so surreal, but a sad way nonetheless. At least it was sad for Marilyn's new granddaughter.

Amy's grandmother would come to Houston to visit and see Amy several times and go to her soccer games. Marilyn was having the time of her life. Amy would go to Kansas City and stay with Marilyn and her husband Larry during any given summer. Or she would go stay with them at Thanksgiving in Shreveport where her aunts lived. Amy loved her grandmother and Marilyn adored Amy. My oldest daughter graduated from college in Kansas City one year. As it happened, Larry and Marilyn lived near Kansas City. We all celebrated including Marilyn, Larry and all of us. It seemed for a brief moment as if our family's dysfunctions were alleviated and we were a family in full force with pride and unity.

I couldn't give up either of my daughters and apparently neither could Marilyn. Out of all of those thousands of mothers still looking, hoping and searching, some will find their child and some won't.

Back to Marilyn. Maybe Marilyn wanted to finish school uninterrupted. Perhaps she didn’t have a family as forgiving that would allow a pregnancy outside of a marriage. Maybe she didn't have the acceptance of the father (not Larry. He came later). Or maybe she was young. I'd like to think she was merely human. But she redeemed herself a thousand fold and her endeavor was true to herself. She may not have found the daughter she lost although they laid eyes on each other. But her redemption and strife brought her a granddaughter. As she once put it, “we found Amy”.

I never asked Marilyn what happened or why. I couldn’t just trespass on that softer ground unless invited and I wasn’t. I’m just thankful that Marilyn arrived at some point in our future.

A few years ago Marilyn was diagnosed with cancer. Larry and family members put Marilyn to rest at the age of 60 on Friday August 9th. Amy made the trip at random notice to the funeral and was in attendance amongst her family.

I admire Marilyn not only for what she accomplished, but more so for what she gave. Love.

Vince Gutierrez * August 2008