Book of D: No Logical Progression

One of my mentors said the following words about her son, whom she lost to cancer earlier this year: "The hardest part of my grief is learning how to live without you. Life isn't linear, I know this, but I expected a logical progression of your life."

You died way too young, my sweet nephew Ryan. The hope that should often accompany a person's life was ripped from yours - I don't know when it happened or why, I am only sorry that nothing or no one could save you from the harrowing thoughts that perhaps led you to believe that your life was not important enough to keep on living.

I was so angry when someone stated that she had been expecting a phone call saying that you had died, but she thought your death would be because you drove too fast and recklessly or because of drugs. I must admit that I was taken aback by her statement, and this indignant but loving aunt had to bite her tongue in patience and peace and not bark back by saying how awful those remarks were.

I had different expectations for you, Ryan. My expectation for a logical progression of your life had replaced any negative thoughts I might have ever had of you from the first time you attempted to take your life. I saw a different, more hopeful Ryan after that failed attempt. I saw a Ryan who was more aware of his importance on this earth. I saw a Ryan who knew his loved ones adored and needed him. My expectation of a longer life for you, Ryan, was seeing you be a dad again to Luna (in November) and regaining your parental right to Gaia ("Baby Gaga"). My expectation included seeing you be a wonderful "girl dad!" My expectation included seeing you get your G.E.D. and becoming a chef, or whatever profession your heart desired. My expectation included seeing you love hard, being happy, helping others, but it never included outliving you, sweet Ryan. Death should be for the elderly who have had a chance to live life to the fullest. Death should not wait for the young. I have no words for anyone who would expect the death of a young person. I don't tolerate that thought process, and I will never succumb to it. My logical expectation of a longer life for you, Ryan, will remain unfulfilled.

Perhaps in another lifetime, the world will be kinder to you, Ryan, and it will grant you a long, happy, healthy life with lots of beautiful children, a loving spouse, and an equally supportive and loving family and circle of friends. 

I'll always love and remember you.

Love ~ Tia D.

Book of D: For Ryan

I saw you.

Ryan had an infectious laugh. Most who knew him have mentioned his laugh and beautiful smile. I will miss seeing his smile and the slight dimples that would appear on his cheeks if you were lucky enough to see him smile big. I will miss his laugh that would often fill a room and create the need for others to reciprocate it. Mostly, I will miss his hugs. He wasn’t a side hugger. He hugged you strong, face to face, for a long time. He didn’t fool around with his hugs. If he truly cared about you, his hugs were the way he expressed it. 

He wasn’t easily impressed. He wasn’t easily intimidated either. Not the Ryan I knew. He just wanted to be happy. Moreover, he wanted his loved ones to be happy. He didn’t try to impress others by how much he knew. I clearly remember this one time, when he was driving us to buy dinner for the family, and he said, out of the blue, that he knew he wasn’t smart – he quickly added that he was not as smart as he knew he could be. He went on to say that he knew that by reading he could improve his vocabulary. I told him that was cool, but why try to improve your vocabulary when others might not understand them fancy words you learned. We laughed loud and hard. But, I went on and encouraged him to read more and to learn as much as he could but to always be true to himself. I tried to impress upon him to be genuine because if his motives for learning something were to impress others or to get their approval, then he should question the character of those people. 

He was not perfect, but neither am I. He just loved genuinely and sometimes he tripped. I, too, have tripped in trying to express my love and other emotions to my loved ones. 

He had thoughts that none of us knew about and thoughts that he probably couldn’t express or understand. In the end, Ryan was just too kind, mindful, forgiving, and caring for this often too cruel world. Maybe he was affected by pathogenic beliefs. These are a belief system that interferes with our way of dealing with those older than us or in higher authority. It unfairly teaches us to respect our elders no matter what, and it teaches us to not question those with authority. The pathogenic belief system is indirectly taught and learned early in one’s life and mostly plagues minorities – especially Hispanics. The system clouds a person’s ability to properly express or defend himself. You know how as children our parents usually taught us to show respect because they said so: "you better show respect because I said so" ... "you be nice to tia Maria even when she pinches your cheeks too hard because she's getting old" or "don't talk back to tio Jose even when he calls you a cabron!" Yeah, these things we're taught are silly as I recall them, but they have been scientifically proven to be damaging to a young person, enough that he carries that negative learning system into adulthood with no positive coping mechanism. You let those in authority and power mistreat you because that's what mami and papi taught me when they said I had to be respectful of my elders. All of this makes a person's emotions fester and show up often in negative ways. We must do better in the area of mental health . Look and listen. Never look and judge. It just takes 5 minutes for a person to decide to do something irreparable, but it takes less time to talk someone down. For Ryan, I promise to do better!

Book of D: Wero: One Day Closer 😩

Book of D: WERO

It's Friday, June 14th. You passed away at 7:15 pm. Your entire family was with you: your wife Eva, your daughters Erica and Felicia, your son-in-law Nick, and your grandbabies Ava and Noah. They were all there, Wero, by your side - like always - to bid you farewell and to help make your journey back Home to meet your Maker a more calm and peaceful experience. 

Your family was enjoying dinner in your hospital room (Nick was taking Ava to Ross to buy a gift for a friend's birthday, but they immediately went back to MMH) when Erica noticed your erratic breathing and quite possibly your last breath. Needless to say, your wife, my sister Eva, and your daughters were shocked and heartbroken that you had passed away. I won't discuss more because you were there, my brother-in-law, and you know what actually happened. You knew your family was at some peaceful point in life, so you decided it was okay to leave this world. 

You waited an entire day to pass away, and I'd like to think that you waited because you didn't want to leave on your late son's birthday (June 13th). You wanted Philip (your junior) to be able to have his birthday all to himself; after all, Philip was such a remarkable human, and he deserves to be remembered all on his own. As you know, Philip was so young, and he was taken from you, your family, from all of us - much too soon. I take great peace knowing that Philip (*Epé*) was there, at the Pearly Gates, after St. Peter gave you the third degree, that is 😉, to greet you Home. I love you so much, Wero. I'll miss you forever! 

Book of D: The Bathroom Chase

I had dream that one of my nieces kept following me around the hospital to every bathroom I went to use. I'm not sure what to even think of that except maybe that I need to watch out for her during this difficult ordeal that has pretty much stolen her dad from her and slowly devastated her family. All I know is that I'll be more mindful of my niece during these next strenuous, heartbreaking days. 

Book of D: Hassan is Back Home

Hassan has finished the spring semester at university. He has traveled back home to his loving family in the Bakhtiari province near Lordegan City. His family was so happy to see him. 

Hassan was anxious to return home so he could help his family finish building a home that will house his older brother, his wife, and toddler son. Hassan will eventually build a home on the Hosseinpour homestead one day whenever he gets married. But, he is in no hurry. Hassan wants to finish his collegiate career and become an instructor first before settling down with a wife and starting a family. 

Which reminds me of conversations Hassan and I have had, and further research I have done, regarding Iranian nomadic marriage. For instance, part of the Luri (nomadic) culture, deems that parents may try to arrange marriages, but it's a custom that has died out throughout the centuries. Then there's consanguineous marriage, which is a type of endogamy, and is still practiced and encouraged. However, this tradition has also seen a decline mostly related (pardon the pun) to the greater awareness about recessive genetic disorders that plague endogamy (in-marriage) relationships. The reason for the decline points to education: the more educated the nomad, the lesser his or her chances are of ending up marrying a family member because of educated awareness toward mental and physical disabilities that intra-marriage can cause a newborn.

Hassan's family has been against consanguineous marriage for a couple of generations, which bodes well for my friend. 

To further explain, without condoning consanguineous marriage, it started out of necessity for financial security, and reproduction; moreover, to strengthen family bonds within the nomads. Consanguineous marriage helped ensure that money and security remained within one family and that a family's bloodline continued. In a caste system which basically ridiculed and belittled nomads,  it made it difficult for nomads to marry outside their own tribe or clan because they were deemed unfit by society. Therefore, marrying a cousin or second cousin became the norm, per se.

I'm glad my friend Hassan never has to worry about the nefarious constraints of consanguineous marriage.

Book of D: I Choose to Make Chicken Salad

I woke up at 4:30 am. We are staying with our uncle in Lubbock for the weekend. It was a much-needed excursion for me, after the mood I awoke to yesterday morning. I am feeling so much better this morning. My mood is positive, my mind is clear, and my outlook is good. I even had a dream last night that I returned to work at the university. Heck, if the opportunity arose to work there again, I might just take it; however, it would have to be with a different division.

Anyway, as my mood improved yesterday, my attitude followed. I was rather stoic and quiet for pretty much the entire morning yesterday.

As my spouse asked me questions, my answers were mostly monosyllabic: yes, no, or I don't know. I really hate being that way. My demeanor was equivalent to how it used to be before I figured out, or rather when my doctors figured out, that I had mental health issues (i.e. GAD and MDD). I used to be such a rut-maker (not to be confused with a muckraker), which basically means that I lived in a rut and often wanted everyone around me to live in a rut, too. For that, I am sincerely and truly apologetic – to myself and anyone else I burdened with the actions.

So, today is a new day and a new opportunity to make things positive for myself. I need to tweak my resume for one, and then take all the materials I have saved through the years, during grad school, and upload them into a study guide with online study cards (and even tangible index cards) to prep for the NCE. I don’t know what my future holds for me, but I take great solace in knowing that I am not alone in that. What I was meant to do will eventually find me. Or maybe that’s not really how things work, all serendipitous and all. But I do have to remember that things are within my circle of control as far as work goes. I have so many opportunities waiting for me. I worked long and hard to obtain all this wonderful education, so I must take that arduous labor and turn it into something positive. Like my high school cross-country coach used to say: you can either make chicken shit or chicken salad.

Book of D: The Fucking Feels

I woke up so depressed this morning. Not sure what's going on. My current escitilopram dose probably needs tweaking. I'm not trying to be flippant by downplaying or trivializing my current mood, I'm merely stating an obvious fact. I need to speak to my endocrinologist about it soon. I don't know what to do about my work situation except to just find a job somewhere.

Whether it makes me happy or if it's something that I want to do with my life right now. I just feel like I have to bring in some income right now, to have money of my own. I'm afraid that if I don't do something about my current depression, it might escalate into lord knows what. What could be worse. I don't dare to even go there. I'm used to making money. Good money. This not bringing in income isn't working for me at all. To add salt to the proverbial wound, I've been disappointed in people lately. For instance, many of the people that I've helped out in the past have been scare in reaching out to me lately - for certain, none have come to my aid. It sucks so much. Maybe it's just my mea culpa, and I need to stop dwelling on who's helping and who isn't. I do remember, though, how my late Mom would always tell me to watch my money because I might need it one day, and no one would be there to extend the same kind of support to me. My Mom was so wise. Aside from her financial advice, telling me to invest in commodities and real estate/land, her advice about life in general was always so spot on. I miss Mama so much. Especially during times like this. But, I just need to jump this current mood and recall the good things I have in my life versus focusing on what's missing. 😌 

Book of D: Joshua J. Dominguez, Commencement 2024

Congrats to my great-nephew, Joshua J. Dominguez. Big Spring High School. Class of 2024.