Ruminations on the 52nd Year of My Birth.

December 21, 1960 was a chilly 46 ° F night when I was born at 9:01 PM at Greenpoint Hospital in the Greenpoint section of Brooklyn, NY. Other than my birth, nothing remarkable happened on this day in history. I was the youngest of five and the third boy. The youngest three had a different father than the oldest two. My father was 32 and my mother 36.

I have a few memories from the youngest years of my childhood. Some good. Some bad. Very bad. The very bad was something that should never happen to a child. The result from it filled me with shame, made me extremely shy, and caused me grow up to be hyper self-protective. That, plus my father not being there since before my birth, put me on a lifelong search for acceptance and love. I've found acceptance from family, friends and most importantly, myself, but the love I've searched for has thus far eluded me. I'm no longer adversely affected by it, but at two years past the half century mark of my life it has thus far eluded me.

I recently confronted an adult who knew what happened to me yet did nothing. The adult did not remember and based on the adult's present condition I believe it. What that did for me was to finally allow me to close that door to my past and put me on a path of continued healing and growth. The abuse had negative effects on my personality and emotional development. However, it had some very positive effects. It developed in me a strong sense of empathy. It made me want to help people. It made me a good listener and it made me very sensitive to the needs of others. Also it made a very passionate, creative person. Most importantly, it opened in me the ability to love intensely, divinely. A love people rarely experience.

From that awful childhood experience I take only the good on my continued journey and leave behind the bad. On my 52^nd birthday I will enjoy diner and the company of some of my family. I will be blessed to share it with my sister Marty, who I share a special bond with. The next day I will have fun at a Winter Solstice party where there will be another birthday cake for me. It's going to be a great weekend.

I love you all. Be Blessed!

Rafael.

Despite my protestations that I'm too old (52 this weekend) and I can't imagine being married again, life may yet bless me with a child. This song speaks my wishes and my promise.

Hey you, you're a child in my head
You haven't walked yet
Your first words have yet to be said

But I swear you'll be blessed

I know you're still just a dream
your eyes might be green
Or the bluest that I've ever seen
Anyway you'll be blessed

And you, you'll be blessed
You'll have the best
I promise you that
I'll pick a star from the sky

Pull your name from a hat
I promise you that, promise you that, promise you that
You'll be blessed

I need you before I'm too old
To have and to hold
To walk with you and watch you grow
And know that you're blessed

 

 

I finally confronted someone about my past and the fact that they knew what happened. I had held it for far too long and I didn't realize until recently that it was holding me back and messing me up still. I thought I had conquered that a

nd was done living in the past. Well, now I AM done with that and I'm moving forward. I let depression and anger get the better of me and stopped working out. On 12/09/2012 I ran for the first time in a long time and I felt great! Tired, but great!

I'm over and done. I'm dropping the baggage. I won't go into my soon to be 52nd year of life dragging that shit with me. ¡No mas! Like my man Rocky Balboa said to his son, "It's not about how hard you can hit. It's about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward."

 

 

Is This Who I Am To Be? Monday, February 06, 2006

Editor's note: This is a blog from 2006. The nine years refers to my previous marriage.
Were we ever whole in our younger days? I was once an angel then spent nine years as merely human until I found some of the angelic in me again. Now it is inevitable that others see that spark within me shine through my eyes. I do not see it myself but then it is not for me but for those in need to see it themselves. Am I the lighthouse to their ship fearing the rocky shores? Am I being compelled to heal myself that I may help others heal? Do I triumph that others may?