My Journey with Mitchell

Mitchell

         It took me a while to decide whether I should write anything about this. But the feeling was just so overwhelming, and I just felt I needed to share this experience with whoever may end up reading this.  

         This is a story, my story, about a handsome young man named Mitchell. Now, you see, I have never met Mitchell in person. But I did know plenty about him and his beautiful life.  It all started earlier this year in January when a few of my Facebook friends started to comment, like, and share posts and pictures from a page called “Mitchell’s Journey”.

Click here to check it out ---> https://www.facebook.com/mitchellsjourney

 

         Curiosity got the best of me and I finally checked out the page and it nearly broke my heart. As soon as I started reading about Mitchell, the more I fell in love with this courageous, beautiful, young soul. He was suffering from a terrible disease called Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy and was suffering deeply because of it. His father, Chris, was the one in charge of the page. I kept reading every post, looked at every picture, but I simply could not bring myself to actually LIKE the page. I still can’t point out why, but I just couldn’t do it.

         It was around the middle of February that I got an idea. It was exactly like in cartoons, how a little light bulb goes off at the top of your head. I had been keeping up with Mitchell’s page and was aware of his declining health. I knew I couldn’t possibly do anything to help save him, but I had this incredibly strong feeling that I just HAD TO DO SOMETHING. Anything. But what could I possibly do? And that’s when the light went off at the top of my head.

I make these custom names and I was just thinking of finally making my business page public. You see, I had created a page for my “business” back in September of 2012, but had never uploaded anything, so it was just sitting there for months. But when I kept thinking of what I could possibly do for Mitchell, the only thing that popped in my mind was to create a custom name for him. I had read so much about him and had seen so many pictures; I already had TONS of ideas on how to make the name. 

(Here is my page. Check it out when you have time and show it some love!)

https://www.facebook.com/Mcreations1

         Now, another thing, for anyone that knows me well, knows that I tend to be extremely shy and doubtful of myself. Hence the reason it took me so long to actually start posting my stuff online. I had had this idea for a while, but I did not earn up the guts to message Mitchell’s dad, Chris, about it. I kept thinking they wouldn’t like the idea. I kept thinking I wouldn’t do a good job. I just kept thinking too much, and didn’t act on anything. Well, I just kept thinking and thinking, and didn’t tell anyone what was on my mind. I usually tell my husband everything, so the fact that I didn’t mention it to him meant how nervous I was about this idea.

         Sadly, a few weeks after I got this idea, Mitchell passed away. He passed away on March 2 and I had no idea that it had happened until 2 days after. I didn’t even find out through Facebook. I was actually visiting my mom and she mentioned it to me. She told me how it was on Facebook and a bunch of news stations were reporting on it as well since he lived here in Utah like us. I was just stunned. I told her that she must be mistaken because I had just seen his page a few days ago and he was alive. When I got home, I checked on my laptop and realized the sad truth and just cried my eyes out.

         Have you ever done that? Just cry and cry over a story because it touched your soul to its very core? Well, Mitchell did that to me. The way his father writes… the way he writes impacts me on such a spiritual level that when I read his posts, I just cannot hold back my tears. The idea of doing a name for Mitchell was still on my mind, but I had no idea how to ask Chris if I could.

         Well, I made my page public in March and started adding pictures of names I had done in the past. The response was wonderful and people were so nice about what I was doing. It felt amazing (and still does). But I could not shake this idea for doing Mitchell's name away. Every time I would go to Mitchell’s page (and by then, I “LIKED” the page), I would just always think of little Mitchell and how much I wanted to do something nice for his family, especially his mom.  

         On May 14, I was reading a post on Mitchell’s page titled “SAYING GOODNIGHT / SAYING GOODBYE”. It tugged at my heart in such a way that I knew I had to contact Chris and ask him if I could give them this gift. I decided to tell my husband about it first. My husband saw that I had definitely been thinking about it for quite some time. I must have been pretty transparent with how nervous I was, because my husband just tried to soothe my nerves by telling me I could do it, and I should do it. A few hours later, I messaged Chris.

         I wasn’t expecting a fast reply. After all, the instant he posts something, it gets hundreds, often thousand of comments and likes! I figured he would probably write back in about a week. If he doesn’t write back in a week, then I will send another message just to make sure he got my first one. And if that doesn’t work, then….

   
         So.. Yeah. I WAS NERVOUS if you didn’t already catch that. I had never done anything like 

this before, so I was excited/anxious/and very jumpy! I was eating dinner with my family that same 
night, when my phone notified me that I received a Facebook message. I checked it and saw that it 
was Chris replying back. I didn’t open it right away for fear that I would see something negative. But that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. He was so sincere and polite and ultimately gave me his blessing because he said he felt it would be a great gift to Mitchell’s mom, Natalie. 

Wow… Just…. Wow. 

         This whole time, I actually had been thinking of Mitchell’s mom and would cry each time I thought of how much she must be hurting. So, the fact that Chris mentioned how nice he thought it would be for Natalie just stunned me. I knew it was some sort of sign, and definitely a good sign. I couldn’t wait to get started on the name. I had told Chris that it takes me 2 weeks to finish a name but when I actually had gotten started with Mitchell’s name, my mind was a complete blank. What if I did something that they didn’t like? What if it just doesn’t look good??

 

AAAH, TOO MANY WHAT-IF’S!

         I had read that Mitchell loved Lego’s. That was it then, I would do a Lego theme! But I also read lots of times how much he loved Halo. Nah, a Halo theme would fit much better. But his father did mention multiple times how much he enjoyed four wheeling. Four wheeling it is then!

         Needless to say, this did not take me two weeks. It’s a little embarrassing to admit that, but I just wanted it to be perfect. And since this was a gift, I didn’t receive any specific ideas or tips on what kind of theme to choose. By the two-week mark, my mind was at a standstill.

         
         I don’t know what it was or how it hit me, but I was reading over some of the posts on Mitchell’s page, and again… 

*light bulb moment*

Family

         Mitchell loved his family more than anything in the whole wide world. And they adored him every day of his young life. I actually got teary eyed when it dawned on me that the perfect theme for Mitchell’s name was family. I knew exactly what to get and got started right away.

         I will admit that there were several times I cried while making his name. I kept thinking how much I wish I could hand it to Mitchell himself. Why didn’t I do this earlier? I wish I could have earned up the courage earlier.

         I don’t know if you believe in God, or in heaven. But I had several conversations with God during those days while making Mitchell’s name. I kept asking to please bless Mitchell’s family. I still couldn’t stop thinking of Natalie. I have two children of my own, so the thought of going through something like this just shatters my heart to pieces. I just can’t imagine not being able to see my children every day. To not be able to hug them anymore, or to just play with them. Chris and Natalie have done so much for me without even knowing it. Their strength just amazes me. Chris writes so beautifully and the way he has been able to capture Mitchell’s story and his journey is just perfect.

         More than a month had passed and finally, I wrote Chris and told him I had the name ready. I asked if I could drop it off or if we could meet up. He told me that they would be traveling to Baltimore and wouldn’t be able to pick it up until the following week. I was so ready to give them the name, that I said I would be able to drop it off later that same night if it worked with them. We agreed on a time and I was just so excited to finally give them the name.

         My husband agreed to drive me over to their home. It was about a half hour away from where we were but the instant my husband put the address in his GPS, I got so nervous and wanted to back out. 

“I’ll just tell him I can’t today” 

“I can wait to give it to them next week!” 

         I kept thinking of reasons to avoid giving them the name that night. But it was evident that my husband was not going to drive me anywhere else but to Chris and Natalie’s home. I had a good half hour to collect my many thoughts, and try to calm myself. Why was I so nervous? I seriously couldn't help it.

         As we were getting closer, I decided to pray to Mitchell. I told him everything that was on mind and I felt the most indescribably feeling. Something just soothed me. I mean, I was still a nervous wreck, but I no longer wanted to run home. We were getting closer and closer, and finally, we were right in front of their home.

Oh crap. I’m actually here. This is definitely not a dream. I’m actually doing this. 
… okay. Just breathe, Marilei.

         I got out of the car with the name in my hands and made my way to their front door. The thought of being on Mitchell’s drive way made my heart feel so heavy. I wasn’t even at their front door and I already wanted to cry! I kept walking and kept trying to focus on NOT crying. Crying isn’t a bad thing, but I just didn’t want to cry like some mad woman while handing them the name. I was trying so hard to contain my tears and my voice from shaking. Finally, I was at their front door. Natalie answered the door and my eyes wanted to swell up with tears.

Nope. You go away, you tears. Or at least wait a little bit, please.

         She welcomed and invited me in and said she would go and get Chris and that I could go into the living room. Right when I stepped foot in their home, I could see Mitchell’s angelic face everywhere. There are beautiful pictures of him on many of the walls. What a handsome little guy. As soon as I made it to their living room, I saw their coffee table and they had more pictures and photo albums of Mitchell. I couldn’t contain my tears and they flowed freely down my sad face. I wiped them away as fast as possible and heard footsteps coming from downstairs.

         Now, you may think that Natalie saw the name already, but she didn’t. I make it a point to hold the name backwards so that when I turn it around, I can see their face when they see the whole thing for the first time. Once Chris and Natalie were both in front of me, I turned it around and they immediately said they loved it. All of those silly thoughts of doubt that were in my head just fluttered away. I told them how nervous I had been and that the reason it took me so long to make is because I couldn’t decide how to design the name. Chris said, “It’s perfect. All the details are just perfect.” I don’t know if he would remember that, but I always will.

         They just kept saying thank you, and I also said thank you for allowing me to do this for them. I hugged them both and was going to leave soon after and that was right when Chris surprised me and asked if he could give me something. It took me a few seconds to realize exactly what he said, and then he was gone to grab whatever the something was. I stayed with Natalie and I again told her how nervous I was while making it but I was beyond glad that they liked it.

         Chris came back shortly after and handed me something that looked like a photo frame. As soon as I was turning it over to see what it was, Chris said, “I don’t know if you’re religious or not.” I turned it around and saw that it was a picture of Mitchell walking away from his wheelchair with someone that resembled Jesus. This picture has been posted on Mitchell’s Facebook page and I have admired it so.

         All those tears that I was trying so desperately to keep away came rushing back. I completely lost my composure. I cried because I felt Mitchell in the room with us, and I felt the love this beautiful family has for their little boy. But most of all, I cried because Chris had absolutely no idea how much I had been praying to God and praying to Mitchell these last few weeks. This picture was absolutely perfect. I could not stop crying and soon after they both started to cry along with me. I apologized and started to tell them how much I respected them and that they do so much for me and so many people all over the world. I don’t know if they understood everything I said since I was crying while trying to speak.

         While we were all crying, I gave them both another hug and said my good-byes. I walked out the door, holding that picture close to my heart and headed towards our car. Right when I saw my husband, I told him what happened and showed him what they gave me. He knew how much this meant to me, and he knew how much strength it took me to make this gift for Mitchell’s parents. Even though I was crying plenty, I felt so incredibly happy.
         On the drive home, I kept thinking of Mitchell and his sweet spirit. A tiny part of me still wished I could have given him the name while he was here with us. But I know he was with us in that room when I gave his parents the gift.

To Chris and Natalie, 
There are no words to describe how much I appreciate and respect you both. Thank you so much for welcoming me into your home and letting me share my talent with you in memory of your son. Mitchell has inspired millions of people, and I, like so many of them, just want to let you both know how much you are loved and cared for. Thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

And most importantly, thank you Mitchell. Thank you for listening to my prayers and thank you for giving me the strength that I so desperately asked for to go to your home and give them your name. I am very glad your parents liked it and I know you are happy with it as well. Watch over your family, little guy.

This is the name that I did for Mitchell. I had read that his favorite colors were yellow and purple. The designs on the letters M and H say "time well spent" and "cherish each moment". On the letter T, I put the word "prince", which I feel strongly describes sweet Mitchell. I put plenty of little details on this name and I am so glad I was able to give this to Chris and Natalie.

This is the framed photo that Chris gave me. I will treasure it always. 

The opportunity of a lifetime...

      I absolutely hate math. Just despise it. I have never been good at it, so there has always been that struggle. When it came time for college, I detested the idea of taking math again, but I had to do what I had to do. So, I hated it even more for the following reason; during last semester, I realized that I am done with all the classes I need for my associates. Except math. If it wasn't for math, I would have graduated LAST fall. I would have a degree if it wasn't for precious little math. But that feeling changed about 2 months ago in the wake of an amazing opportunity.

      I consider myself a movie fanatic. I absolutely LOVE films and everything that is put into making them. If I had to narrow it down, I would honestly have to say that my biggest loves (besides my family) are WRITING and FILMS. Okay, now that that is out there... let me explain how this weird, insane, freaky thing happened. I was in a 2-week long class that was during what was supposed to be my winter break (mandatory class for freakin math) and we had to make a list of accomplishments. This class was actually pretty cool, and I learned quite a bit from it, but I just didn't like the fact that I had to get up extra early while everyone was fast asleep and DONE with school.
      Anyway, the accomplishments were to be narrowed down. For example, if you had a big goal, such as "BECOME A MILLIONAIRE", you had to make smaller goals to reach that certain goal, such as invent something, invest, etc. In the class, we had to write around 10 MAJOR GOALS. So, one of mine was to ATTEND THE ACADEMY AWARDS. The smaller goals to reach this goal were...

1. Write a screenplay 

2. Start my blog idea ALREADY and get my name out there 

3. Create a film 

4. Submit film to dozens of film festivals 

5. Plain old luck 

      I started to think about that list more and more, and thought about starting my blog (I'll talk about that later because it isn't this one) and thought how AMAZING it would be to actually attend the Oscars. WOW... me. At the Oscars. Can you imagine?
       I'm just a girl from Bolivia!!! (that would be part of my acceptance speech BTW.. just sayin).

Nothing like that has happened to me. I daydreamed about it for weeks, then it gradually stopped being so demanding of my brain time. But only for a little bit. I logged in to Facebook like I do every day and something caught my eye and I decided to click on it. I "LIKE" The Academy of Motion Pictures and Sciences (aka the Oscars page) on FB and although I had seen this link in the last few weeks, I never clicked on it for whatever reason. But that day I did. The picture right above the link was this....

 Right when I read that, I figured it might be a cool package they send you for guessing a whole bunch of Oscar trivia correctly. But as I read on, I literally screamed out loud.
      With this contest, you are required to make a 30 second video answering the question

“How will you contribute to the future of movies?” 

The winner of the contest gets to go to the Oscars, and stand on the actual stage holding the Oscar statues that are handed to the Academy winners.  

Did you just read that?? I mean, seriously.. did you REALLY read it? 

THIS. WAS. AMAZING.

      My mind was instantly overflowing with ideas that consisted of special effects, stunt doubles, and tons of props. Plus, I found out a little bit after Christmas, and the contest wasn't due until January 18. Pfft, piece of cake! I got plenty of time! Well, time flew by as it tends to and I had not done a single thing. I still had two weeks and I already had an awesome idea in mind. I told my husband about my idea and we decided to start recording the following week since life was just too hectic around then.

      Well, as you can probably guess, that didn't happen either. One random day, I was in a brand new class and was just thinking to myself about how much time was left for the contest. I knew it was the following week but couldn't remember the exact date. I looked at my phone and almost dropped it in the middle of class. It was Tuesday, JANUARY FREAKING 15TH!!!! I only had a few days to not only write a script but to rehearse, record it, and EDIT IT!! I was losing my mind!
      I sadly decided, "Hmm.. maybe I shouldn't even enter. It's okay... " But that thought rapidly faded away. 
   
      My husband and I decided there was no way we would be able to pull off our original idea (which really did include a lot of props, and TONS of extras). There was no way we could gather that many people in such a short amount of time, especially with me having school every day in the morning, and my husband working every night until midnight. So, we moved in a different direction.

      The end result is... creative. Funny. Most importantly, it's unique. And we are both proud of it.  

      I submitted my video the morning of the due date for videos and got to browsing through some. 

THERE WERE TONS!!! 

      I soon realized there are hundreds, literally thousands of people with this exact same dream. And I just wish they would pick me. 

      I should honestly just say it now.. THANK YOU MATH! I still kind of hate you for being so difficult, but this little dream and the little goals would have never happened if it wasn't for that class I had to take due to math. MATH, I LOVE YOU (kinda).

So, let's get down to business. 

The results get announced TOMORROW (February 8, 2013). 

      
       I am literally on the verge of tears just thinking that I just MIGHT win, but even worse, I might just LOSE.   

      I have no idea who might even read this. I just really wanted to document how I was feeling about this contest, because to me, it honestly is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Seeing the words that described the prize of the contest, it felt like it was "meant" for me to enter. I know.... silly, right? 

But it's true. I watch the Academy Awards EVERY YEAR, and know so much Oscar trivia, it often scares me. But I absolutely love it. And to just be able to stand on the same stage as so many great film legends... How can I pass up an opportunity like that?

JUST IMAGINE.... SERIOUSLY... Close your eyes if you have to :)

      If I were to win, I could meet Christoph Waltz. I could meet Robert Downey Jr. I could meet FREAKIN STEVEN SPIELBERG!!! One of the greatest directors of all time!!!! The room will be crowded with people I have admired for so many years. 

      You know what, I don't even know if the winner gets to mingle with everyone. And I don't even care about that. Just to able to ATTEND the Oscars. Wow... certainly a dream come true. 

      I will end with one last thing. Kind of a goal... that I have in mind. Well, GOALS to be precise.

      I do want to attend the Oscars in the future. Maybe I won't get to this year with this college contest, but I certainly intend to in my lifetime. I have never really told anyone this, but these are the categories I would someday LOVE to win (or even just be nominated!) in.

1. Best Director (Yes, I know. Kind of funny to think I would ever win such an award)
2. Best Original Screenplay (Yes, I do have film ideas in mind and would love to perfect them for the future)
3. Best Actress (No, you are not mistaken. You did read that correctly. I have never acted in my life. At least not in front of people! But I 100% believe I could do it)
4. Best Supporting Actress (I do not think I would jump directly to Best Actress without at least a nod with Best Supporting Actress. I would love to have both under my belt)

Felt kinda funny admitting that you (whoever you may be reading this) but it's the truth :) and even I laugh about it! So, I don't mind if you laugh about it too. But try not to be so shocked when you see me on that stage someday mmk.

SEE YOU AT THE OSCARS!!!! :)  



Oh.. here's my entry video :)

It's NOW or NEVER

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Now or Never

            It was unusual for me to go out on a Thursday night, especially to Provo. But this time was special. A friend of mine had organized to bring a dancer from Italy to perform at a nightclub. Not just any dancer but world-renowned Salsa and Mambo dancer Adolfo Indacochea. There was no way I could pass up the chance of interviewing him.

            The day before the event, I emailed one of the organizers, Mariela. I asked if it was possible to interview him. She responded quickly and said it was up to him. I went on Facebook and messaged him but he did not reply. I found his email address from his profile and wrote him. He replied right away.

            When I received the notification on my phone that Adolfo replied, a huge smile swept across my face. It took a moment for me to open the email because I was afraid to read, in big bold letters, the word NO. I opened the email and was pleasantly surprised when I read that he would love to do an interview.

            Thanks to my big brother being heavily involved in the Salsa scene here in Utah, I have had the privilege of interviewing some amazing dancers. This was the first time I was going to try to do it on my own though. Needless to say, I was a bit terrified. I do not work with any newspaper or get paid to do these interviews. I just simply enjoy interviewing people I admire. That is what I hope to do in the future. So, the fact that Adolfo, one of my all time favorite Mambo dancers, was coming all the way from Italy, this truly was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

            My husband, my mother and I drove to Provo around 9 p.m. My husband had his video camera to record the performance and my mother decided to join us since she is also a fan of his dancing. Adolfo would be doing his show at about 10:45 p.m. The whole way there I was mentally preparing questions then jotting them down. This was more challenging than I thought. However, since I had already gotten in contact with him, there was no way I could back down now.

            Right when we walked in, a dance workshop with local Salsa instructors had just ended. The lights turned off, the DJ started to play some Salsa, and people started to dance. My eyes immediately checked every corner of the room and I quickly spotted a door in the back of the club and saw figures walk out. There was Adolfo. He had a duffel bag and was surrounded by four other guys. I grabbed my digital recorder and my heart began to race. I quickly told my husband to wish me luck and was starting to head towards that door, but was too late. He had already gone outside.

            I spotted Mariela, ran up to her and asked if he was coming back. She informed me he was just going to get a quick bite to eat and would be back for his show. I believe I danced three songs but, frankly, I was not fully focused on dancing since my eyes were glued to the entrance, watching every single person that walked through there.

            Finally, he came back. I grabbed my recorder and snuck in the back where the door specifically said “employees only.” He was dressed for his routine in traditional black and white dancewear: classy and old school. Mariela spotted me, grabbed me and took me directly to him. She introduced me and I decided to let him know I was the one who emailed him. I asked if we could do a quick interview. He said he was just about to go on and if we could do it after his routine. I agreed. My husband and I went out on the dance floor and found spots in the front and waited. My husband was ready to record the performance with his camera and I was ready to scream my head off.

            He went to the dance floor, waiting for his song to start. His routine started with a slow Cha Cha. He moved to every single beat of the music as if he was making the music with his body. When the Salsa music started, his hands, his head and especially his feet moved so excitedly that it made the entire audience scream. He was so light on his feet, he might as well have been floating. Throughout his routine, he played with the music so well: hitting every accent with a quick but smooth movement. He added some Pachanga style and everyone loved it. His routine was great. The organizers went up and thanked him for coming out and handed him the microphone. After he said a few words, he quickly disappeared to the back.

            We got up and as quickly as possible went through the mob of people that were all waiting to meet him. Somehow we made it to the door and saw that several people were blocking the door so I was a little intimidated to go in. But I did and he was there watching his routine from someone’s cell phone. After he watched his routine, he was bombarded with people asking to take pictures with him. I took advantage of the opportunity and got my picture taken as well. Right after taking the picture, I asked him if I could do the interview. He was drying off and looked exhausted. He replied hesitantly.

            “If it’s fast. I want to go out and dance.” He did not make eye contact with me. He did not smile, or seem happy. More than anything, he looked annoyed. He looked at his watch when he said it and the first things that popped in my mind were; One; people still wear watches? And two; he does not want to do an interview. I’m screwed. He said he was going to change and he would do it real fast afterwards.

            I sat outside that room and felt discouraged. At that moment all I wanted to do was leave. I told my husband how I felt and he could feel all my excitement just drain out of my body. I did not want to be there anymore. I was turning off my digital recorder and kept thinking to myself to just head out before I make myself look worse than I feel. I had earned up enough courage to email him and go up and introduce myself, and that is how he replied? I just wanted to go home. That was when my husband told me something I would never forget.  

“ You can’t just go. If every person you want to interview only has a few minutes or just seconds for an interview, you can’t feel sad or discouraged. If you get the chance, you HAVE TO take it.”

            I just sat there soaking in what he was telling me. It made sense but I still felt bad. My husband asked, “What if it was James Franco? What if you had the chance to ask him a few questions, and he was in a rush? Would you be like this and just go home? People like this have very busy lives. You are not always going to have thirty minutes for an interview.” He was absolutely right. That really made me think. I should point out that if there were one person I could interview, it would definitely be James Franco. I just adore him.

            I thought of something very quickly and asked my husband if he could record my interview. I told him if Adolfo were annoyed, he would be forced to look nice since he would be on camera. At that moment, my mother sat down with us and asked if I got my interview. I told her no, and that we should leave since he was so busy. I was just about to get up and was tugging on my husbands arm when I heard a familiar voice coming our way and started talking to my mom.

            Passing a line of people, Adolfo walked directly to my mom and kissed her on the cheek to greet her. My mom is well known in the Salsa scene here in Utah. They have met due to my brother working with Adolfo previously. He saw me and asked if right now was okay. I stood up and followed him into the “employees only” room.

            As we were looking for a spot to shoot, my mind went completely blank. I could not think of a single question. I had just realized that I left my notes on the couch. The more I thought of what to ask him, the more I panicked. Everything was happening all too fast. I did not even dare try and go get my notes. We found a spot and my husband handed me my recorder.

            From the time it took my recorder to go from my husband’s hand to mine, I was praying for some miracle to happen. Maybe some crazed fan would run in to try and grab Adolfo. Maybe there would be a random fire drill and everyone would be forced to leave for a bit. If anything like that happened, I could quickly go grab my notes that I neatly prepared on the ride over here. Then, I would be saved! 

Nothing like that happened. 

            I turned my recorder on and waited for a signal from my husband to let me know when to begin. That lasted about 5 seconds. As soon as my husband signaled me thumbs up, I felt frozen. Adolfo looked at me and smiled. I looked and smiled back and he looked like the same Adolfo I have admired for years. With that smile he gave me, all that fear vanished within a couple of seconds.

            I introduced him as one of the best Mambo dancers I have ever had the privilege of seeing. I figured I would ask questions that I would want to know myself. I asked where his amazing style came from, what plans he has coming up that he could let us know about. He said he and his buddy Juan Matos are forming a dance group and will be teaching in a new studio. Juan Matos also happens to be a former student of the same instructor that taught Adolfo everything he knows. For anyone well aware of the dancers in the Salsa scene, I wanted to jump for joy when he said that. Two of the best Mambo dancers in the world are teaming up? I must have died and gone to heaven.

            Since I knew he was in a hurry, I decided one last question would do. The whole interview must have lasted no longer than 3 minutes. I am beyond glad my husband talked some sense into me. This is not just any dancer. This was someone I have admired for years. He does not come to the U.S. often. If I would have passed up this opportunity, I know I would have regretted it. I am glad I got my three little questions in. Even though the interview lasted a few minutes, I will treasure it always.

            My last question was if he had one more dance left, whom would he choose to dance with. His answer was short and sweet: his daughter. The few girls that were in the room all said “aww” in unison, including myself. I had a smile the rest of that night.

A for sure guarantee...

          Although I have plenty to be thankful for, this is a day that I always have a sad feeling and an even worse mindset when it comes to my personal life in the past, present and future.

          To be clear about this, I have to go to the beginning. The very beginning, even before my existence. I have one older brother and one older sister. They are 8 and 7 years older than me, and even though my parents were married for years, it was not the best years or even happy for my family. Right before I was born is when my parents divorced. I grew up without a father and up until I was about four and a half is when I was first "introduced" to anyone resembling an older male that could possibly become an actual "father". My mom starting dating this man named Ricardo and I just remember he was so sweet to me. He was great. He had two sons that were around the same age as my brother and sister so it was like a nice big family that was formed. It was very nice and I don't have a single bad memory when it comes to him and the time that he and my mom were together.

I do not remember the time or place or how it occurred, but he told me to start calling him papi (dad). Being a little kid, I had no clue what that was, so I did. My mom never told me otherwise, so therefore that must have meant that there was not anything wrong with it. So, from then on, he became my dad. Whatever that was... I really did not know.

It was when we moved to the states that I started seeing families outside of my own that were with a mother and a man that did lots of stuff with their kids (play with them, fix things around the house, dressed up in nice suits...) I had always been surrounded by my immediate family that the fact that I had an actual "father" somewhere never dawned on me. It was around my 10th birthday that I started asking questions. We were in living in the states for about 2 years and my curiosity got the best of me. First, I would ask my mom. Then my brother, then my sister, then my grandma and so on. I would get different stories from every single person. My mother would never say anything hateful towards him but try to be honest to my young mind about this man who I never met. My sister talked about him as if he was the greatest person alive. My brother refused to talk about him but would always make sure to make a comment about him being a bum, a disgrace, a sorry excuse for a man. My grandma was the first who would start telling me the truth about him and I think because of her, my mother was forced to tell me things about him that maybe I was too young to know.

This person was a drunk. He gambled and basically spent all the family money, causing our family to go days and weeks without food. He was constantly in trouble with the law but the worst thing I found out about him is he was physically abusive to my mother. He literally would punch and kick her while she was on the ground. Not only that, but he would do that when she was pregnant with my brother. Then and only then is when I realized why my brother would talk to bad about him and refused to tell me such stories.  But now I knew...

The first time I ever heard from him was when I was in 7th grade. I was thirteen years old and he called our home and I answered. It went something like this...

him: Marilei?? Quien habla?? (Marilei?? Who's talking??)
Me: si... soy Marilei... con quien hablo? (yes... this is Marilei. Who am I speaking with?)
him: Hola hijita!! Como estas?? No puedo creer que te estoy hablando. Soy tu papi! (Hi sweetie! How are you?? I can't believe I'm speaking with you. This is your dad!)

Me: *complete silence* then tears * then start bawling * my brother grabs the phone...


My brother: Hola? Quien habla? (Hello? Who's speaking?)
him: Hola hijito! Te habla tu papa. Quiero hablar con Marilei y tambien contigo. Como estan todos? (Hi son! This is your dad. I want to speak with Marilei and with you as well. How are you all doing?)

*I don't really want to quote exactly what my brother said to him but in a nice way, he pretty much told him to f*ck off and not to bother us, especially me. And that if he tried to call and speak with him, he would get nowhere because he wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.

So, not the best way to start building a relationship. But it happened and then eventually, I did speak with him. But it was very short. It wasn't the same week or even year. I think it happened the following year. But the first thing that happened in my young brain when I heard his voice and I had an actual conversation with him for the first time was... "Huh... he sounds HUMAN. He doesn't sound like the monster I made him out to be." So, from there, I tried. I tried to understand. I would email him and he would email me... but eventually his responses got shorter and shorter. . . until suddenly they stopped. And stupid me, I would repeatedly write him wishing him the best, hoping he was okay and to please write me back soon. This would happen every single week for the next three years. I received NO RESPONSE.

I cried and cried. I could not figure out what had I done. I read my emails over and over trying to figure out what had I said that made him not want to write me anymore. I could not figure it out and it drove me crazy.

I looked to my family for answers but all I ever received was, "That is just the way he is..." But no. I wouldn't accept that answer.

After the three long and painful years, I got a random response. He emailed me asking how I was doing and apologized for his delay in writing me. That's the word he used... DELAY. It took three years!! And as mad as I was, a part of me was extremely happy to hear from him. So, I brushed it off and accepted his apology. He wrote me two emails and then they stopped again. No reason or explanation as to why. Just stopped. But this time was a bit different... they stopped after he had asked something from my brother and after receiving my brothers response, I received nothing from him.
 The thing he had asked my brother for was MONEY. Yes, money. That wonderful thing that separates and hurts family when it is played around with... yes, that very thing. I was still a teenager and although I knew full well how hard my brother worked to help my mom maintain our family, I did not see or understand the reason behind my brothers hatred towards this man. Why can't he just help him?? One hundred dollars just once wouldn't kill him.... right??
Oh man... how clueless was I. Please keep this in mind. I WAS A TEENAGER aka I thought I knew everything. So, the fact that our DAD was asking us for help must have meant something. He must really care for us to trust us like this, I mean, who else would he go to with something like this? Man, he really needs us... and he knows it.


And I have to tell you this so you might understand a bit better... That FEELING... that feeling of being loved by someone who should automatically love you but truly doesn't.... that feeling is something you never want to let go of. But once you do let go because you have to face the facts, that is the most painful thing a human being will ever have to endure.

So, the money. My brother refused and wrote him saying the obvious... How dare he asks his own son for money when he has never given anything to help support him, his education or his well being? He called him names, and my brother swore never to write to him again.

The same year one of my uncles went to Bolivia and when he returned he said he had a surprise for me. To my surprise, my uncle went to go visit my dad in Bolivia and recorded him talking. Seeing him move, and hearing his voice was .... indescribable to say the least. But there he was on tape. And man, the resemblance between him and my brother... WOW.
In the tape he said a lot of things; he listed his birthdays, he has never remarried, or had more kids, where he works, and some of the things he remembers about each of us. He remembers my sister always being girly and pretty, he didn't really say anything about my brother, he remembers me as being really chubby (WHICH IS A WELL KNOWN FACT IN MY FAMILY! I WAS HUGE!) and being really dark and having really slanted eyes. But other than that, he doesn't know a single thing about me. It wasn't a super long video, but it made me cry. I could not understand why he could sound soooo human. Why does he sound so normal when he is just so... mean?

Eventually, we started writing again. I found out he had remarried and actually had a son. So, he lied about that when my uncle recorded him. Why would ANYONE lie about something so sacred??? (And yes, family IS sacred) he lied about other things that were just too stupid to even lie about. When I would ask anyone in my family... "Why does he lie about these things??" I always received the same answer..... "That is just the way he is...."

Alright, well, this kept going on for years. He would stop writing and I would continue to desperately try and build SOMETHING with this stranger. Finally, in 2009 my mom was going back to Bolivia with my aunt and grandma. The first thing that popped in my head when I found out my mom was going was, "Perfect!!! I can send some gifts to him, his wife and son!! After all, they are my family."

I emailed him and asked him what size of clothes does his son wear, what does his wife like, what does he like.... etc etc. And much to my surprise, he replied instantly. Most of the time, within the hour. What ended up happening was this... I bought his wife perfumes and lotions from Victoria's Secret. YES, that super sexy and expensive store that every woman on earth loves. I thought, "Why not?? She'll love it!" I bought his son, MY BROTHER, a cool hoodie and some cologne. I bought my "father" some cologne, some chocolates that he loved and a nice leather jacket. I wanted to buy so much more and I even talked to my brother and sister into buying stuff for them so that way our mom could hand deliver it to them. My brother said I was wasting my money and that I would regret it later... my sister I think just bought him some simple cologne but didn't buy anything for his wife or son. My boyfriend now husband also helped me make this really cool specialized album of pictures of me and brothers and of course his grandkids. It wasn't your "just tape pictures on this page" kind of album. The pictures were printed on each page and the book itself cost over 70 dollars. My boyfriend suggested I stop right after that before I wasted all my money...

The day that my mom arrived in Bolivia was a very painful day. This man, the man that I'm writing about has called me less than fifteen times my entire life time... That day though, nope, different story. He called me repeatedly making sure my mom had the packages okay. In the hour and a half that my mom was supposed to arrive, got her luggage okay, and was settled and met up with who she was staying with, he called me a total of SEVEN TIMES. And in all those times, he never once asked how I was, how nice it was to talk to me, how was my daughter doing, how I was feeling. NOTHING. All he said each time was, "Does your mom have our gifts here yet?" THAT WAS IT.

Needless to say, I was heartbroken.

I didn't mention it to my mom because she was all the way in Bolivia, and plus, I didn't want to ruin her vacation. So, I stayed quiet.
What happened later though, I could not keep quiet about. Since I sent his family all those things, he wrote me and said he would buy me whatever I asked for from Bolivia and give it to my mom so that way she can bring it back to me. OKAY... I am not dumb and I know this man doesn't have a lot of money. All I asked him for is this style of silver plate that has cool designs on it and for it to please have designs on it that say BOLIVIA. Those things are NOT expensive and during the time that my mom was visiting (carnaval time), they are literally EVERYWHERE. He said he would definitely get me one and he even asked me what else I wanted. I thought, "Wow... he is so great! Hmm.. what should I say...?" So, the first thing that popped in my head was to own an EKEKO. It's a little statue that is meant to bring you and your family good fortune (you can Google it if you want!) Those were the two things I asked for. I didn't even START asking for anything, he was the one who pushed me to choose something. After three emails he wrote me and said he found me the coolest Ekeko and that I would love it. That he had bought it and the plate already. Excitedly, I emailed my mom and told her and she wanted to know where and when she could go pick them up for me. I asked him and he didn't reply for one whole day. Then, finally I got response and he just wrote that he was sorry but he couldn't find any Ekekos or any of those plates that I was asking for. Maybe I could ask for something else.

I WAS SOOOO CONFUSED. Didn't he already write me and say he already got them?? Sooo... what the heck??

I didn't reply to him right away. I forwarded the message to my mom and wrote in it what he had said in the previous email. She called him and cussed him out saying how dare he ask me for gifts but when I ask him for two small things, he not only lies about having them, but doesn't want to buy them for me. She told him he HAD TO go get them. Whether it was out of guilt, or fear or whatever, he did get them for me and I do have them. After that he wrote me an email calling my mom a liar and other bad things saying she was brainwashing me to hate him and she was spreading all these lies about him and other ridiculous things that my mother has NEVER done.
I should've called him and yelled at him, I should've never written him back, I should've done a lot of things. But what I ended up doing was questioning my own family. Not in a bad way, but in an "unsure" way and sometimes, that can be the most painful way to do things.
After I talked with plenty of my family members, something clicked inside me. I didn't understand why he would deliberately lie to me about such small things, why would he be so heartless when it was so unnecessary, why was he just so careless....??? And without anyone telling me, I just knew....
I sent him a last email telling him never to write me again. I told him he just fu%ked himself over for lying to me the way he has, I just don't understand why he needed to lie so much.

I asked myself that same thing... Why?? And like I said... I just knew...

This is just the way he is. He is never going to change. THIS IS JUST THE WAY HE IS.

As much as it hurt (and still does) it's the truth. I can't change him and don't understand him and sadly enough, I just wish he cared. If he cared just an ounce of how much I cared, that would mean the world to me. I don't understand why he doesn't love me. I don't understand why he doesn't care about me. Why? I don't think I'm such a bad person, why does he? I DON'T UNDERSTAND. I really just want to understand. And maybe if I understand, maybe I can change it. I truly don't know though. I have done so much without him ever being around that I should be proud of myself. But there is this piece... this missing piece. I don't know if it will ever be filled or even if it NEEDS to be filled. It probably doesn't need to be, but sadly I think a part of me will always feel this way.






I was watching videos on Youtube and came across this and this is pretty much how it feels. It feels EXACTLY like this....