be blessed (for Mami)

Today marks 10 years that my mother has passed. I've tried so hard to come up with a meaningful idea to memorialize my mother on this day. But I can't.

My heart is full of so many emotions. And my mind keeps going back to that day so many years ago. 

I was holding my mother when she took her last breath. She died in my arms. When my mother took her last breath, I knew it. I can still hear my scream echoing in my ears.

We were rushed to the hospital in an ambulance. I had to sit with a social worker; and the Chaplin was there also. With his comforting words. To this day I still don't understand why he would say those words to a young person who had just lost their parent minutes before.

I can't remember her voice or her touch or the smell of her hair. I can't remember hardly anything about her. Except for that day.

Deep down, I still secretly blame myself. I was 17 years old, I was scared and freaked out. I didn't want to leave her side. I didn't want to leave her alone. She would have hated that. So I stayed by her side instead of calling for help.

I hated myself for that, for years. And still do, sometimes.

I'd like to think she'd like who I've become. That she'd be proud of me. But honestly, I don't know. I don't think she would... I'm so different then that young girl. I have so many more scars.

But one thing I do know. She'd tell me to stop crying, to whip my eyes and to keep moving forward. "Stop being stupid." She'd say. "Don't look at me, look to God."

My mom was a strong God-fearing women. I remember every morning before school,  she would pray over my coming and going. Pray a hedge of protection over me. That God would keep me safe. I know, without a doubt, that her prayers are the reason why I'm still here. Why I'm alive.

Yes, it's been a decade since she passed. But her faith and prayers are still going strong. And touching me still.

I might hate what I did. And I might hate this day. And I might not be able to remember anything. And she might not like who I've become. But she loved me so much, that her love is still reaching me now, 10 years later.

Maybe that's something to celebrate. Instead of mourning.

"This is the day the Lord has made; 

We will rejoice and be glad in it." 

- Psalm 118:24 New King James Version

Be blessed. I hope you have a grand glorious day.

Prayer Power

"Do you really think, all the prayers that mom made on her knees crying out to God aren't still being played out today?"

I said this to my sister-in-law this afternoon. We had a stressful day today, lots of waiting and no forward motion. It was so frustrating to sit still and just wait.

We started talking about God and His plan and purpose for our lives. My sister shared how she felt God was herding her away from a situation. Things keep popping up that keep her from it. And then the conversation switched to my brother and the difficult situation we're in with him.

"He (my brother) just needs to give it to God. He needs to just release it all and give it to Him." -sister

"But he (brother) has to choose it. We can't force him to God. I can remember mom, crying out to God to help him. To protect you and your family. Mom heard God's voice, and God heard hears. Do you really think those prayers aren't still being heard today? He wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for her prayers... I wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for her prayers..." -me

I remember every morning before school, mom would pray over my coming and going. Pray a hedge of protection over me. That God would keep me safe. It wasn't till today, actually, that I realized all of her feverent prayers is what has kept me alive.

"I remember dad, mom, me and your brother were sitting at the kitchen table and your brother said that he was lucky, because he kept getting out of things. And mom got so mad, I had never seen her so angry. 'How dare you say that! It's not luck! It's all my prayers! It's not you, it's GOD!!'" -sister

This year marks nine (9) years since her passing. And I know, without a doubt, that her prayers are still protecting and guiding us. How else could the Cordova's still be existing? Ha ha.

This is a Call Out

I remember when I first discovered this song; I thought it was my life to the 'T'. It's like Trevor himself wrote about me, as if I told him all the details of my life and my situation and he wrote it in a song for all to see. 

“She fooled all of her friends into thinking she's so strong,
But she still sleeps with the light on,
And she acts like it's all right on, as she smiles again.

Then her mother lies there sick with cancer,
And her friends don't understand her,
She's a question without answers, who feels like falling apart.
She knows, she's so much more than worthless,
She needs to find her purpose,
She wonders what she did to deserve this, and…”

Thousand Foot Krutch is my second favorite band (of all time). And this song is my second favorite song. I don't think I've ever actually stated either of these facts on this blog. If you've been reading my blog for any long length of time you would know what my favorite song it ('Wishesand Dreams') and who my favorite artist is (Stellar Kart), because I talk about them ALL the time. 

However, TFK has a very special place in my heart and in my life. A private/intimate place.

Whenever I'm going through a medium to difficult situation in my life, my first response is to turn TFK on. I don’t know how many times I’ve cried to myself and/or wrote journal entries with TFK blasting in my ears. I relate to so many of their songs, this song is just one of many songs I feel were taken from my journals.

I discovered TFK at my very first Acquire the Fire event. Ha ha, it really is quite funny how my life kind of revolves around ATF. Anywho, I had just started listening to Christian music and seeing TFK perform live on this huge stage with hundreds of people all around me and their music blaring through the speakers – something just clicked. After the concert I went to their table and I bought all the CD’s they had released at the time. I then went home and listened to their music NON-STOP.

This all happened a few months before my mom died.

I vividly remember sitting in the car, being driven home from school, Air1 playing on the car stereo when this song came through the speakers. Like I said in the beginning of this entry, it was my life to the very detail.

I had just started to self-harm, my mom was in the middle of her fight with pancreatic cancer, and I felt like I couldn’t talk to anyone about how I was feeling or thinking. I was so confused, lost and scared; and there was Trevor singing my story.

“She's calling out to you, this is a call; this is a call out,
'Cause every time I fall down, I reach out to you,
and I'm losing all control now, and my hazard signs are all out,
I'm asking you, to show me what this life is all about.

Have you ever felt this way before?
'cause I don't wanna hide here anymore.
Take me to the place where nothing's wrong, thanks for coming, shut the door.
They say someone out there sees us,
Well if you're real then save me Jesus,
'cause I've been this way for far too long.
I wasn't meant to feel alone.

Show me what this life is all about
Show me what this life is all about”

I played this song over and over and over. It became my anthem for a very long time; it became a part of me.

This is one of the songs that started my love affair with music.

Whenever I hear this song, I can’t help but remember this hard time in my life. But, I’m glad to say, that I no longer see it with pain and hurt.

God knew what He was doing. He placed me at that ATF, in that seat for a reason. He knew I would connect with TFK. He knew I would become obsessed with their music. And He knew that this song would be the rope I desperately needed to cling to. He knew that seed would get me through the hard years ahead of me.

He gave me a gift; a precious, life altering gift, that I will always be grateful for.

Song: "This is a Call" by Thousand Foot Krutch

Puppy in the Stroller

Since October I’ve been walking the dogs on and off on a daily basis. After Christmas, I noticed that Mona started getting really tired half way through our walk.

This got me thinking… we’ve had Mona for about eight years. We rescued her from a family member, who got her from someone else. Mona was used as a breeding dog for years before we got her. So, with this guessmathiation that puts her at around 13, maybe 14 years old.

Every morning I drive me and the puppies to the park, where we walk the park three times. In the beginning of January, I started placing Mona back in the car after only one walk around, because I knew she couldn’t keep up – and I felt awful about it.

A few months back, I heard about a cat stroller. And I thought, “That would work”. So I started looking online and at local pet stores to see if I could find a reasonably priced one; but had no luck.

Then, over the weekend I went to the swap met with my family and guess what I ran into?! A doggie stroller, after a little haggling I got it for an unbelievable price of $25.

As soon as I got home I set the stroller up and ran outside to grab Mona. I slowly adjusted her to it; letting her see it, getting her close to it, moving it around her, me holding her and moving it. After a couple of minutes I placed her in it, without closing it up, I played with her, petted her and gave her kisses. I then zipped her in and pushed her down the street and back. To say she LOVED IT would be an understatement.

So the next day, I walked Mona (and the other dogs) one time around the park and then we headed back to the car and I pulled the stroller out of the trunk. As soon as the stroller was out of the car and in the upright position, Mona walked right to it and sat next to it panting – she knew what it meant. I threw Mona in, zipped her up and she was ready to go. The other dogs on the other hand…

It took Boo a couple of minutes to get use to being hooked up to it, but she adjusted quickly. However, Parker being the baby that he is, acted like he was going to die. It took him a full circle around the park to realize that the stroller wasn’t going to kill him and that he couldn’t escape from it.

After a couple of days, all the dogs seem to have adjusted well. I’ve gotten a few weird looks and laughs with pushing a puppy in a stroller around. But Mona loves it and I don’t have to leave her behind. It’s a win, win.

With all the new adjustments to accommodate Mona, it’s really made me realize how fast time is moving. I’m slowly starting to realize that Mona is slowing down; she’s become less active and sleeps so much more. My sweet little psycho angel is coming to the end of her life – and that frightens me.

All I can do is continue to give her all my love, care, attention and make the rest of her life as amazing as possible… And continue to spoil her.

Twihards

A couple of years ago, when I lived in Colorado, my roommate and I were house-sitting for friends. My roommate came up with this awesome idea that we should play a prank on them.

We knew that they both "LOVED" Twilight (sarcasm implied), so we decided we would give their home a makeover. We made props, bought posters, printed out pictures, made them a fan-fiction, and changed their FB status', profile pictures and liked EVERY Twilight fan page we could find.

One of the last things we did, we went to the Goodwill found the Twilight and New Moon books and highlighted the cheesiest parts of the books we could find. I Google-ed it – there’s a LOT. We then ripped out the pages and placed them ALL over the house. We put some in plain sight and we hid others (okay, we hid a lot). We hid the pages in books, movies, games, behind pictures, in cups, shoes, drawers; anywhere we could hide them – we did.

Since the prank, the friend has been finding the pages randomly. A few nights ago, she found another page. It's been 2+ years and she's moved a few times, and yet the prank is still going strong.

This makes me smile and giggle like a crushing tween girl. Hehehe. 

 "It's like my home decor has herpes. 

You think you find it all, but it just keeps coming... 
And never goes away!" -friend

Love You Forever

I remember one day, when I was in elementary school my mom came home and read me this book. My mom worked at another elementary school, where they were having a book fair and she discovered this book.

I don’t remember how many times my mom read this book to me. It’s countless. That book she brought home is now falling apart, has stains and marks all over it.

She loved that book. Every time a grand-child was born, she would buy the book, write an inscription to the child and then give it to the mom.

When I lived in Texas, I became extremely close to a friend and started calling her “mommy”. She’s a year younger than me, but she did and helped me with everything. When I moved from Texas, I went to the store bought her this book, wrote an inscription and gave it to her. When she opened the present she cried, because it was her favorite book too. I had no clue.

Shortly after my mom died, I gave my aunt the original book for safe keeping. I was moving around so much, I didn’t want it to get lost or even more destroyed. This is when I discovered that the book was my aunt’s favorite too. My aunt never knew how much my mom loved this book.

This year on the anniversary of my mom’s death, a group of my family gathered at my aunt’s house and we had a ‘story time’ reading of this book. It was such a powerful, meaningful and fulfilling moment.

I always say that my mom is still watching out and over me. I’ve been struggling a lot with changes happening in my life lately. Today I was cleaning out my grand-father’s closet when I stumbled across these beauties.

“I’ll love you forever,
I’ll like you for always,
as long as I’m living
my baby you’ll be.”

My mom might not be living anymore, but I know she still loves and cares for me.

And that caries me on.

Irony

I’ve been writing in a blog since 2004. When I first started writing, I bounced around a bit using different sites.  But I always made sure to save my entries. I never wanted to lose my thoughts, I knew they were important. At one point I gathered them all into one private blog.

The last few weeks, I’ve been digging through this old blog. It’s so weird to see the things I wrote about a few years ago. My obsession with Michael Rosenbaum, a bad break-up with a boyfriend, all my posts about depression and self-harm, concerts I’ve been to; so many memories I hardly remember now. But they’re all there. The good, the bad, the ugly and the heartbreaking – all of my memories kept in one safe and protected blog.

It’s so weird looking at them all, gathered liked that.

The first time I cut. The first time I burned myself. The turmoil of my mother’s passing. All my suicide attempts documented. How my heart broke over my first love.

It’s so strange to have my whole life in one place, in a mere 412 entries. Nine (9) years of life, you’d think there’d be more. That the posts would be longer, more detailed. But it’s not. It’s short, messy and to the point. Ironic isn’t it?

Angel's Wings

"This is the day the Lord has made;

We will rejoice and be glad in it."

-Psalm 118:24; New King James Version 

A couple of years ago, I started to associate July the 7th with this verse. I had to forcefully change the thoughts of my mind. I had to chose to be happy, instead of depressed. Which is odd, because at the time I would try to change my thought patterns about other things and it didn't work. But for this it did, I think because I was heavily in denial and it was easier to force happy then accept what was the truth.

I also started to use the phrase: "Happy July 7th!" I knew I had to bring joy into this day for myself, or the guilt and remorse would eat me alive. 

For a long time, I blamed myself for my mother's death. Depending on the day, I still do. Whenever I have that thought, I feel so guilty and I hate myself...

A few years ago, I was involved in this therapy called Theophostic Prayer.

"Theophostic is a ministry of helping emotionally wounded people to acknowledge and to identify the true source of their inner emotional pain and find lasting peace through receiving personalized truth directly from the Lord." 

- Source.

In the sessions, you pick a topic (situation) that you would like to work though, you explain it a bit to the facilitator and then you ask the Lord to show you what He saw or felt during the situation or ask why.

I think it was April 20th when I had my session about the day my mom died. The day of her birth. I was so full of emotions, anger, bitterness, guilt, shame, and hatred for myself. I was extremely triggered and completely on edge that my mentor and I had to have an emergency session.

My mentor at the time was learning how to become a facilitator for Theophostic and since my normal facilitator was unavailable we had a session just the two of us. 

I don't exactly remember what happened that day. I don't remember what God told me or what I said. But I remember from that day, it wasn't as hard to face my mother's passing. I finally felt peace that it was God's will and I truly accepted that I wasn't alone that day.

One of the major reason's I blamed myself, was because I woke up that day knowing something was going to happen. I've said this before on this blog; I have a gift where I can sense the spiritual realm. I can sense and sometimes see things in the spiritual world. 

During this session of working through the day my mom passed, somehow the guilt I had of knowing something was going to happen came up. And God revealed to me that it was all the angels. They were preparing for my mom. They were getting ready to take her home. The feeling I had, the sense of something was off, I was sensing the excitement of Heaven. I took the feeling as a bad one, but it wasn't, it was a good one - a great one!

The more we worked through the memory the more God relieved Himself to me. I was starting to understand - at least my feelings. 

I then started to talk about another guilt of mine. I stood next to my mother's side when she started to slip away. I hated myself for not running to call the ambulance sooner. I stood next to her, until I knew she was gone and then I panicked and ran to get help. I hated myself for not going sooner, for waiting until it was too late.

And then God showed me a vision of me by my mother's side and this HUGE angel beside us. He was just standing there, with us. His wings held up, stretched out. And he just stood there, behind me. I watched as the whole scene played out and the angel never moved. When I panicked and screamed and ran for help, he didn't flee, he didn't leave - he stayed with me. He never left my side.

I wasn't alone that day. I thought I was. But I wasn't. God sent angels for my mother and God sent an angel for me. God was watching out for me. This day that brought me so much pain, hurt and guilt wasn't supposed to be that way. It was supposed to be a day of peace and joy.

Today, makes 8 years since my mother has been in Heaven. I had so many memories of our time together today. But this memory stood out to me the most. Not because it was the last one we had, or because it was so traumatizing. But because I know it was the greatest one. I was with my mother when she went to Heaven. I felt the angels that took her. 

I know for a fact that she was okay. That she is okay. And that I was okay too.

ICE-CREAM??!!

Mr. Grumpy asked me to take Sr. Grumpy to get his hair cut today. After the haircut I decided I'd go to Burger King to get us lunch. I asked Sr. Grumpy twice if he wanted ice-cream and he said no. However, as soon as the ice-cream passed through the drive-thru window and into the car guess who reached out for it?

It’s okay, I didn't really want it any way... ha ha. He ate the whole thing happily, and that's all that really matters.

My grandpa (Sr. Grumpy) has lived with us since I was about 6 years old. He has dementia, which has turned into Alzheimer as he’s gotten older. My father (Mr. Grumpy) is his primary care-giver and I’ve helped take care of him most of my life.

I don’t have any ‘normal’ memories of Sr. Grumpy. By normal, I mean I don’t have memories of him buying me presents, spoiling me with treats, taking me in car rides or teaching me life lessons. Like most people have of their grandparents. I’ve always taken care of him, instead of him taking care of me.

I have learned a lot from Sr. Grumpy. And even though I don’t have ‘normal’ memories with him, I do have unique ones. Like him stealing my ice-cream or us eating Christmas breakfast together this pass Christmas. How he use to curse my best friend out. How we say hello to each other the ‘Mexican way' for minutes at a time. And when he gets feisty he pretends to box with me.

I love Sr. Grumpy. He might be a handful, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.