abuela is special

Ready for old age in my boomer outfit
Daily writing prompt
What are your thoughts on the concept of living a very long life?

my granddaughters will love me even as they rolls their eyes at me-
as I try to awkwardly relate to their slang and taste in music-
they’ll be like “abue-that’s so special”
and while I’ll know what they’re trying to say
I’ll annoy them even more out of spite or to make them laugh
my granddaughters will appreciate that I’m not like other grandmas

I wrote the poem above a year ago thinking about what kind of grandmother I’d be. One thing is for sure, I won’t be like my mom who goes above and beyond her role of mamacita and is the most wonderful grandmother to mine and my siblings kids. I’ll be different but in a fun way. If I’m blessed/cursed to live a very long life (which could happen because my grandparents on my maternal side have lived past their 90s), I want to be like my grandparents who had a very good quality of life until the end. I want to be as active as possible in my old age.

me with my grandmother in 2014

I also envision myself as a storyteller with my granddaughters gathered around me as I tell them about the olden days before the internet or when we had to take our pictures to the photo place to get them developed. I want to be as candid as possible with them about my misadventures in life and love so maybe they’ll learn from my mistakes and learn to have grace with themselves when they make mistakes. I want to be a safe space for my granddaughters when they have problems. I also want to be like my great-great-grandmother Mercedes who still smiled for the camera in her old age while holding her beer in her hand.

My great great grandmother Mercedes

It would also be kind of ironic if I did live to my 90s and beyond, considering how I’ve been romanticizing death since I was 15. However, at the end of the day, I do love being alive on most days and do try my best to be as healthy as possible to live a long live to annoy my loved ones, especially my granddaughters. I’m kind of excited to see what technological advances I’ll live to see. Like, will AI become part of our everyday existence? I mean, it already is part of mine with Alexa waking me up every day. Will men, gasp, finally do their part and take birth control pills instead of leaving it up to women to take responsibility? Will there be a magic pill for PMDD for future generations of women who can take it so they don’t go to crazy town every month? Will the internet read your algorithms so hardcore they erase any vestiges of anyone you have a falling out with from your phone/social media? I’m not sure if any of these questions will be answered, but it would be great if some of them were.

❤️❤️❤️

poesía: luna llena

here’s the english version of this poem:

Poetry: The Full Moon

hay que decir al carajo con todas las expectativas que la sociedad
y nuestros padres no adoctrinaron
y aprender a escuchar nuestra intuición y apoyarnos en nuestra salvajismo
aullar a la luna llena para encontrar nuestro ser primal
que nunca pudieron respirar
quizas asi empezamos a sanar y a encontrar comunidad
en gente que nos apoya, nos apapacha, y nos ama
con autenticidad

day eleven of patty: me and my trauma

I wrote this poem in november of 2023.

it’s me and my trauma-watch out, there won’t be a story left untold

I hold hands with my trauma and show her off to everyone
most people look at her with curiosity
some people are horrified
my family cringes and and whispers to me,
“it’s embarrassing, showing her as some kind of trophy”
I get mad and flip everyone off
and me and my trauma link arms and skip on our way
to share her story and create drama and chaos
who cares if no one understands our process
of how sharing her story is the key to my recovery

day nine of patty: june 2014 me

I wrote this in september of 2023.

2014 me is proud of who we are now

The ME from June of 2014 sends me a message and asking, where are you?
I tell her, life didn’t go as planned-you’re divorced and looking for a place for your ex
but your kids are thriving-your oldest son has his driver’s license and is on his last semester
Of accounting at Athens Tech-
Your middle son will graduate from high school this year-
and your baby is now taller than you and becoming his own person
You’re working 2 jobs and you’re a citizen now and you’ve been to therapy
to learn healthier coping mechanisms-
you even drive now-you’re independent as fuck and live life on your own terms
you’ve even been to Peru twice-
You’re learning to follow your intuition and how use discernment in your choices
in how you live your life-
you’ve discovered your values underneath everything society brainwashed into you
and at the end of the day all you want be is a good mom and a good person
that’s the extent of your life’s purpose-
now that we know who we are
our next step is to plan the future we want-
we’ll keep on thriving girl-you were the go getter and determined woman in me
Even among one of my greatest depressions
You still got up and followed your passions-
And you laid the foundation-we’ll be okay-I promise
I’ll make you proud of me-
Love patty

day eight of patty: outline

I wrote this poem in August of 2023.

in my car-the place where my crazy ideas happen

the outline of her body in the middle of the road-
told the most tragic of stories
she wasn’t looking when she crossed the street
she was lost in her thoughts
and the driver speeding didn’t see her
and splat went her body
death came quickly to her
her last thought was mission accomplished
but the world thought
another victim of an unexpected and tragic circumstance

poetry: christmas day 2022

I wrote this poem in December of 2022.

my boys are everything to me

Relief comes after a nap on Christmas day
I woke up with so much joy and warmth in my heart
I feel like I’m standing on top of a mountain I’ve been climbing forever
A mountain climb that’s had a most treacherous uphill
and loaded with many obstacles I’ve stumbled and fallen from many times
but the universe, God presented me this gift of contentment for my life
the understanding that everything had to happen for this reason
to live in my childhood dreams of having my own family
who brings me love and purpose every day of my existence

day three of patty: when I tell you I’m a poet

I wrote this poem in March of 2023.

me in march of 2023 wearing my poetess dress

When I tell you I’m a poet-
please take me seriously
don’t think I’m some cute girl
who writes a few verses in her room
about how your kiss is a new kind of heaven
Poetry for me has a much deeper meaning,
poetry is how I bleed out all of my emotions
I hold within

When I tell you I’m a poet-
please don’t laugh at me or mock me
don’t berate the simplicity of my words
I weave into verse
It’s how I make sense of my explosion of thoughts
It’s how I express what I can’t say out loud

When I tell you I’m a poet-
don’t try to cure me of my poetic nature
and prey on my insecurities and try to kill
my dreams of making my art seen
I know how the odds are stacked against
someone like me
I don’t do it to make it to the mainstream-
I do it so other women like me
can be seen, can be inspired to dream

And finally when I tell you I’m a poet-
Appreciate the artist in me,
make yourself a sanctuary to put my poetry in-
I’m not asking for endless compliments or an ego boost
I’m asking for a safe space in you to love
the poet I hold within

day two of patty: graduation

I wrote this poem in February of 2023.

me in feb of 2023…trying to reclaim the softness in me

I’m graduating from writing about revenge and everyone who has harmed me
I’m switched this narrative from woman scorned and full of spite
To a woman reborned opened to love and joy in life
While it’s fun to be petty and mean
It’s better for me to reclaim the corny romantic in me
the one I’ve kept hidden for 18 months
the one who cries at the end of rom coms
the one who’s desperate to fall in love again
to continue this narrative about how I’m in love with my solitude
no longer suits me
when I have a universe of love to give

poetry: private thing

I wrote this poem in December of 2022.

pouty Pisces

This time it will be different-I lie to myself over and over again-
and for a while I’ll believe it-but it never works out and they always leave-
And I wonder how words fail me when this happens-
it’s a magnitude of emotions-
Intense, mega, uber, all consuming, overwhelming-
Some things cannot adequately expressed even with bilingual vocabulary-
maybe not everything is meant to be written down
it’s just meant to be felt, held intimately in my heart and mind
maybe it’s a private thing between me and the universe

poesía: purgatorio

here’s the English version of this poem:

Poem: The Cold Shoulder

estancados en un purgatorio-no sabemos cómo continuar
entonces nos mentimos que todavía nos amamos
cuando ni siquiera nos aguantamos
me dices que estoy loca por admitir la verdad
pero me harte y prefiero parar de desperdiciar mi tiempo
en algo que me está sofocando y robando mi paz

poetry: i run with my shadow

I wrote this poem in December of 2022.

my shadow is so hilarious sometimes

my transformation and rebirth meant giving voice to my shadow
who’s vindictive, petty, and mean
I’ve never really allowed her to breathe
much less be seen
and now she’s almost everywhere-
taking space in uncomfortable spaces
learning she’s not bad-
she just needed attention and to feel valued
I’ve finally accepted she’s an important part of me
who needs to be seen

poetry: raising my standards

I wrote this poem in December of 2022.

blocked more clowns in 2023 than I care to count

I’m tired of same repetitive compliments
You’re so pretty, so sexy and if they’re really “trying”
you’re BEAUTIFUL
but never in my life
have i been call a masterpiece, intelligent,
or have I been told that I inspire poetry?
and old lonely me would entertain
these flimsy lust or love possibilities
kept my standards low to keep my bed warm
and to escape my chronic emptiness
but after almost a year of solitude
my standards have been raised to the ceiling
and now I’m protective of my energy
anyone who wants to get near me
will have to make a solid effort
write me poetry, take me out to steak dinners
and buy me pretty dresses and notebooks

Reflection: I Am America

It’s been 4 years since I took an oath to become an American citizen. I took an oath specifically to Trump which makes me nauseous typing BUT I also took an oath because of Trump. Before making the decision to become an American citizen, I had never really cared about politics but that was until Trump got elected. If you were a POC or immigrant or both, you felt the shift in the racial tension in the U.S right before the election but especially after the election. Racists overtly made their ignorant beliefs known that immigrants were not welcomed in this country. DACA was in the process of being repealed. DACAmented kids who should have been protected were being deported and there was a rise in deportation for undocumented immigrants as well or well the media made it seem like that. I felt that as an immigrant with LPR (legal permanent resident) status, I could possibly be next. In February of 2016, I sent my paperwork to USCIS to solidify my relationship with America. One could say that for better or worse, I finally decided to make a commitment to this country. Here is my blog post about the process:

https://rejectingstagnationafter.wordpress.com/2018/09/04/becoming-a-citizen-in-the-age-of-trump/

What has changed in the past 4 years since becoming an American and what does being American mean to me now?

Well, I’ve voted in 2 elections since I’ve become an American including the national election in 2020 (yay, no more Trump). In October of this year, I applied for my passport and have received it. Now, I can take a trip out of the country without any worries or concerns. While it is an immense privilege to be an American citizen since I  now have a whole new world of opportunities opened up and I can travel anywhere; I feel that I haven’t really changed on the inside. I still see myself and identify as an immigrant  but now I also call myself an American. But to be honest, my idea of being an American has changed. I used to think I needed a piece of paper to say “Oh, I’m American” but  for better or worse, America is and has been ingrained in me since that hot September day in 1986 when I set my foot on American soil at the age of 5.

I was an American when every morning at school I would say the Pledge of Allegiance in my broken and terrible English at the age of 6 and 7.

Little Immigrant Eliza
me in 1987

I was an American when I went back to Peru at age 9 to get my resident alien status solidified with my family.

I am America
me at age 9 in Peru during my trip with my family to get our LPR status

I was an American when I met my childhood best friends in Hawaii at age 11.

I am America
me with one of my childhood best friends from Hawaii

I was an American when I had my babies at ages 17, 24, and 30.

I am America
me with my three kids right after their births

I was American when I started working for the government at the age of 18.

I am America
me at the age of 18 in 1999 working for the government

I was an American when I got my college degree in 2009 from the University of Georgia .

I am America
me in 2009 with my parents at my graduation from college

I was an American in 2016 and early 2017 when I attended protests and marches for immigrant and women’s rights.

I am America
me in January of 2017 at the Women’s March in Washington D.C

And I was an American when people told me, “my english is good for being a Mexican” or I’ve been discriminated against or oppressed in this country by the people that don’t want “my kind” here.

I used to believe that I didn’t belong here because of the racism, prejudice, and ignorance I’ve encountered but that’s no longer the case. This year, I finally let go of those beliefs because I’ve embraced that I am America and America is me. My life may have been harder in many aspects because I wasn’t the average “American born” citizen but I will tell you that I wouldn’t trade my experience as an American to be average. I I feel that working harder than the “average American” for my success has made me appreciate my success so much more and for that I am thankful. My parents had no idea of the many hardships they would endure making the decision to immigrate to this country but I am glad they made that journey. It’s taken me 35 years to get here but today I can honestly say that I’m proud to be an American. 

I am America
me in November of 2021 telling my crazy story about being an essential worker

 

poetry: you’re so sensitive

I wrote this poem in December of 2022.

poor kid-she deserved better

I grew up too quickly in some areas and remained a child in others –
it’s a truth that I hate to admit
it wasn’t my parents’ fault
they did the best with what they had –
an extra sensitive child with medical issues
it was too much for them to handle
when they were trying their best to keep their own heads above water
there was no extra time for the extra needs and demands I had
and while middle age holds space to have compassion for them
I still need to reparent my inner child
who comes out in the most inoportune of time
and has caused terrible havoc and harmed others
but it’s not her fault or mine
It happens sometimes, and now I’m taking the time
to nurture her so she can finally grow up