THE SUMMARY OF MY LIFE

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic
Life as I view it.

Submitted: March 23, 2011

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Submitted: March 23, 2011

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THE SUMMARY OF MY LIFE
My first baptism
As far as I can remember as a child of a good catholic family, my baptism was a time to celebrate or to find an excuse to drink, eat, argue and then feel sorry for our doings. As a child in my five years, I do not recall the drinking, eating, arguments or sorrows, but what I remember is the rented truck of ice cream that we all enjoyed, the festive piñatas hanging from the Jocote tree and the many gifts that my parents made me opened. There is still that moment in church also, that I barely remember, but the truth is, that later on when I saw the pictures of that nice but struggling woman holding me in her arms, I felt sorry for her. She was holding a fat child. There were no smiles on my godmother’s face, just pain. The ceremony must have lasted longer for her to have me in her arms for so long and for the camera to have captured that moment of pain. There I was, baptized as a good catholic boy, happy grandparents, joyful godparents, proud parents that as my grandmother would have said: “got the demon out of the child and gave to God the pleasure to be one more catholic.”
 Sundays
Since the year of my baptism, my grandmother on my father’s side, made sure that every Sunday we all children would attend church. There were three different masses every Sunday, but we kids had to attend the 6 am mass. We all had to be dressed neatly, had a bible or a rosary with us and make sure that our behavior in church was untouchable. All my cousins went through the same process. There was no one that grandma would ignore that Sunday. We all were counted and if by laziness we did not attend church, grandma would find a way to find us and made us sit next to her, when she read the passages from the bible. It was not that we did not like to be with her, but the sermons for younger children seemed to us to be boring, and perhaps was not even the sermons, but the old priests that once in awhile reprimanded the fun part of our childhood.
My cousins
It was fun when I had the chance to play with my cousins. There were always funny. We all pretended at the age of 8 to be a superheroes. Once, my cousin Yemo (the oldest in the group) pretended to be superman, carrying with him a dirty and old read towel tied to his neck. He climbed a jocote tree. He went to the highest branch of that tree, and for us he was the real superman. But there was not more superman when to our surprised, he jumped from the tree and broke both legs. When his mother asked him why he had made such a stupid jump, he could only respond: “I am superman; I am still having the cape.” Games such as throw the can and hide, jump rope, hide and seek, jail time, school teachers, dressing up dolls, marbles competitions, flying paper airplanes, and other fun games were our pastimes. There were no computer games, there were no cell phones or iPods, but we had great times. We created our own worlds, cemented our imaginations and we even experience or were made to experience what we were not supposed to.
 
Hide and seek
This was one of our favorite games. There were hours spent to this game that sometimes we even forgot our meal times. Our mothers would be calling us, and in the midst of having fun, we ignored them. One time, during our playing time, to my surprise I had found one of my female cousins have sex with our oldest cousin. I walked into the action, observed and left immediately when my oldest cousin signaled me to leave the room. It was the same cousin that I have been with two weeks before. The game did not seem the same to me. The actual game of hide and seek had already started, and there were three of us just playing it.
Macho
I guess I have always been not on the macho side of my father. I tried to please him so many times that at the end, my macho engine had given up. As a good soccer player, my father wanted me to play as he did. I never could do that. Once he asked me to chop the wood for our shed and trying to do it, I almost cut off my leg. In another occasion, my father had the idea that riding a motorcycle, was the perfect pretend in the cover up o my less macho side. This almost ended in a tragedy. I went on the motorcycle but without specific training, I crashed in a nearby brick wall. I could not keep up with my father’s expectations for me. I was always the child in the academic field, than the macho child that my father would have preferred to have. But I survived even the repeated statements on how good my cousins were and how I had failed him as a son.  
Nail clipper
You could buy a nail clipper for 5 cents, but to my father a nail clipper, must have the treasurer of his life time. Playing as any kid would want to do with what adults have, I had taken a nail clipper out of my father’s cabinet and decided to show it to my cousins (it must have been the invention of the year). Playing with my cousins and being distracted by my superman cousin, I didn’t realize until later, that I have lost my father’s nail clipper. When I tried to find it, it was too dark already that it became impossible for me to find it and put it back in my father’s cabinet. My father found out about it days later and without a word grabbing a thick leather belt with a silver buckle, beat me up. I knew that I was in trouble. I was right. He became so upset about his nail clipper, that grabbing with great force that belt and folding it in two; he hit me a few times. My leg was bleeding by the time mother came back from work. She did not know anything. That night I had to go with my mother to a birthday and she had bought me a new pair of pants. “Put them on” she keep insisting. I did. When she took a good look at the pants, she saw the blood still pouring out of my leg. Nothing was said. She cleaned me and in her own passive and humble life, never questioned my father, as she had never questioned about so many other things happening. Life continued.
Life
Life is good now. Those experiences had helped me to grow. The people in those experiences had helped me to ignore the negative in life and take with me what is positive. Nothing in life stops the spirit of a good soul, even if you’re fat, baptized against your will or put down by others. We all should do what my superman cousin, (who broke his legs and who was never able to walk again) does. He keeps telling the world: “I am superman and I am still having the cape.”
One day, that cape is going to make us fly to the positive side of life.
 
 


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