The son becomes the father

Baby Girl

2009-01-28T23:37:00.001-08:00

During my last post I detailed the experience I had the day Gabriel was born. This birth was almost exactly the same with the exception of one thing. When I looked over the blue sheet I saw my baby girl.

I was very excited and happy to be a father for the first time. I had so many feelings and emotions going thru my mind. Many had to do with the joys of taking my buddy camping, hunting, fishing, hiking, playing soccer, participating in the Boy Scouts together, and basically doing all the fun manly things we men like to do together. It was strange when I would think about the prospects of having a girl. I had no idea how I would react. I didn’t have any particular insight on what we would be having but I secretly had a desire to have a baby girl so I could learn of those emotions. However, I was not prepared for what was about to happen.

When Gabriel was born it took my breath away, when Angelina was born my heart skipped a beat. I had a lot of emotions with Gabriel but I had a completely different set of emotions with Angelina. My thoughts did not lead to games, or camping or cuts and bruises but instead my thoughts led to more delicate things. I want to see how cute she looks when Carrie dresses her up. I want to see how she looks at me when I come home from work. I can’t wait to see her grow up. I want to see her on her wedding day. I fear for the lives of the young men who come to take her out on dates. I can’t wait to see the look on those same young men when I show them my Springfield Armory XD .45. However, the thought or the emotion that stands out to me the most is the overwhelming desire to be a better man so that she will know what to look for when the time comes to seek a husband.

I love my eternal sweetheart so much. I am so completely in love with her. With each addition to our family I fall even more in love with her. I have the most amazing family on this planet. I love my son. Even now I see all my strengths in him without my weaknesses. I pray that I can be the father he needs. I love my daughter. In her I see the reasons why honor and integrity are values with immeasurable value. In her I already see the qualities that drew me to my wife. She is just as beautiful and just as sweet. I am the luckiest man I know, and I want to express my love and joy publicly.

Carrie I love you. Thank you for your love. Thank you for my son. Thank you for my daughter. Finally, thank you for my dog.

First Time Around

2009-01-07T21:56:00.000-08:00

So the day is fast approaching when I am going to meet my new kid. It’s strange, but I am pretty at peace with this one. When Gabriel was coming, A LOT was going through my mind. First and foremost had been the thoughts of Carrie having complications during the delivery. After all the initial panic attack feelings had passed, we quickly began planning for the arrival of our first kid. I remember the day that we went into the hospital. It was a surreal experience because I always pictured the Hollywood scene where the father was rushing the mother who was obviously in a great deal of pain into the emergency room. That was so not our story. We casually walked into a book store to select some reading materials during our time in the hospital and even picked out a name book since we had not settled on a name for the soon to be arriving child. We still had no idea what gender it was going to be. Not because we grew up in some ancient civilization. It was simply because Carrie and I had no desire to find out the gender. I seriously married the coolest chick on earth. She and I looked at each other during the way to the ultrasound and she asked me “do you want to know?”

“I don’t care” was my reply.

“Neither do I” was hers.

We never looked back since.

So once we checked out of the store we casually drove to the hospital and checked in to have our baby. No speeding, no honking, no panic, it was like we were on our way to a movie.
I remember sitting in the hall when Carrie was taken into the surgery room to get prepped for the c-section. I was in my wicked awesome hospital gown, sitting all alone in the hall way, with my camera in my hand. I heard all kinds of noise coming from the room that they wheeled Carrie into. A lot of crazy thoughts ran through my head, but one by one doctors and medical staff began to enter the room and congratulating me on what was sure to take place. Their confidence boosted mine and I was ready to face the screaming, peeing, and pooping baby that was soon to be mine.

The moment that I heard doctor Bair’s voice saying “David, when I count to 3 I want you to stand and look over the screen and announce to your wife the gender” my heart dropped into the bottom of my shoe. Before I knew it he said 3 and up I went trying to look over what seemed like the highest wall of blue sheeting that I have ever been faced with. Once I had reached the summit I saw the nastiest, most slimy, and yet most amazing little body. It took me all but two seconds to orientate myself and I quickly began to search for the legs. I then uttered the hardest thing it was for me to say. “It’s… It’s a boy!!!”

Not a lot of things take my breath away, that one nearly dropped me to my knees. I was a daddy.

Hope

2008-11-06T00:10:00.000-08:00

As with every election I find myself feeling a lot of mixed emotions. Sad that it’s over (yes I am one of those sick twisted people who enjoyed this), excited for the future, worried about the choices we have made, but something that I honestly haven’t felt in a long time when speaking about Politics, hope.

You know I have so many emotions rolling around in my head, and more importantly in my heart, that I don’t know where to start. I don’t know who Barack Obama is going to be. I am not sure if he is going to live up to the expectations that millions of people around the world have of him. Some people might say “Well he is after all just a man.” That doesn’t fly with me. He is a man, sure I know that, however he is a man that has ignited hope in the hearts of millions. He is the author of that hope. He asked us to believe in him. He asked us to give him something more than power, he asked us to give him our hearts. I think his expectations are higher than any other President in history, and I don’t allow him to escape from that responsibility. He had the audacity to plant the seed of hope in the hearts of so many millions of people. If he doesn’t live up to the promise of the man he has promised to be, then god have mercy on his soul.

I am optimistic. I am excited. I am nervous. I am hopeful… at least he has lived up to one promise. He has brought hope to my heart.

The world that my son was born into will differ a great deal from the world my unborn child will be born into. The due date is January 21st, One day into the Obama administration. My child will only know a world where a man/women of color can be anything he/she wants to be. We’ve just made this world a better place. Now it's up to Barack Obama to do his part.

I voted Obama.

SO WHAT IF HE WAS!

2008-10-25T21:47:00.000-07:00

During the last few months I have heard a lot of reasons to vote for McCain and an equal amount of reason why I should vote for Obama. What allows me to peer into the soul of this country are the reasons why I should NOT vote for a candidate. When I hear someone on TV give me an obviously absurd reason why I should or should not vote for someone I can disregard that because there is a certain disconnect. That person lives hundreds of miles away and I don’t even know them. However, recently I have been hearing some of these absurd reasons why I should or should not vote for a candidate from someone I know, someone close to home. I want to focus on one of these “reasons” that I’ve heard.

“Don’t Vote for Obama because he is a Muslim”
My reply resembles a famous song from the world’s greatest rock band, Metallica. “So ****** What”

So what if he was a Muslim? I mean never mind the fact that the biggest news item this summer was his Christian pastor that “spewed” Anti-American rhetoric. Never mind that he has raised his family Christian and baptized his children. Forget the fact people have been attacking him for his connection to Jeremiah Wright. What if he was Muslim? What if he was a Quran reading, Allah worshiping, real life Muslim? Does that mean he can’t or a more profound question shouldn’t be President of The United States of America? A country founded on religious freedoms?
It saddens me when I hear that type of propaganda from someone that is close to my son. Let there be no doubt in anyone’s mind what I would like my son to learn. So I have included the following:
A word to my Son:
Gabriel. As your father who loves you very much I want to say something to you to always remember long after I am turned into dust. Never judge a man based on his color, race, or religion. I don’t care if someone is gay, lesbian, Mexican, legal or illegal. Mormon, Catholic, Muslim, Atheist or Born Again Christian. I want you to look into his eyes and judge a man by his character. Judge him by his works. Judge him by his actions. If a man can look you in the eyes, make you a promise that he seals with a handshake and latter keep his word then he truly is a man worth knowing.
Your father was/is friends with people of every different religion, race, nationality and gender. Not because of any sole reason then that I have found good in their hearts and I aspire to surround myself with people who can make me a better man. My most important goal in this life is to die a good man. I would have failed in this mission if I would not vote for a man or women because of their religious beliefs. I love you Gabriel and I expect you to stand and be recognized for your valor, your courage, your honesty, and your love for those around you. A man gave me a Quran the other day and I gladly accepted that gift. Not because I want to be a Muslim, but because I know why I would share the gospel with him, and for him to want to share his belief with me shows me that he feels the same. I know he is a good man, a man that loves his children just as I love you. You are my son and I expect you to stand above hatred. I expect you to choose the right.

Now on a side note: Someone complained about Obama’s campaign plane and used the reason that “he removed the American flag” from his plane to add his own campaign emblem to the tail of the plane.
Give me a break! http://www.snopes.com/politics/obama/airplane.asp

Open Eyes

2008-09-27T21:53:00.000-07:00

So, long before I was even a citizen of the United States of America, I thought for sure I would register Republican when I was able to vote. I thought that it was the party that more closely aligned it’s self with my thoughts and ideas. My morals and beliefs seemed to follow suit with what they represented. Now, as we approach the first elections of my citizenship, I find myself registering Independent and going to vote for, dare I say it, a Democrat.

I was speaking to the father of a friend of mine. I’ve longed to speak to him since the last elections because my friend told me that his father wanted to “tear me a new one” because I wanted to vote for G.W.B. When that day arrived I was thrilled to explain to him the reasons why Democrats are a godless and loathing people who only want gays to marry and teen mothers to slaughter their unborn children. Before I had my chance to dismantle his devilish political views, another man got to me first. His name shall remain nameless but his impact on me has touched me more than he knows. I saw it as a chance to sharpen my weapons before I went after bigger game. I was ready for everything he was going to throw at me except for what happened.

He began our discussion by asking me why I found myself leaning Republican. I replied that it was because Republicans closely aligned their views with my religious beliefs.
He then asked, “What religion are you?”
I was excited to reply, “Mormon!!” with my return missionary mentality.

He then schooled me as to what I believed. He explained that Mormons believed the Jesus Christ was the author of a great plan, detailed to give us, as God’s children, happiness. He explained that the fundamental corner stone of this plan was that we are able to choose for ourselves right and wrong, a gift called free agency. He then explained that the other plan that was presented to God’s children was a plan forcing us to do the right thing and not allowing us the chance to choose between the right way, or the wrong way. (Mind you he was not and is not Mormon) He then said based on that fundamental belief, he was surprised that I was picking a political party that was forcing the citizens of this country to choose what I believed was right verses allowing them to choose for themselves what was right or wrong. He ended the conversation because of a phone call and left me stunned and alone with my thoughts.

I am not saying I agreed with everything he had to say, but I was shocked that I had not seen that point of view.

Simply put, he opened my eyes.

The conflict within.

2008-09-27T20:26:00.000-07:00

Brazilian or American? This has been one of the largest questions that have haunted me during my stint here on earth. When I am in the United States of America, I am treated like a Brazilian, a foreigner. I was required to carry a greencard (that’s not even green). I spoke Portuguese at home and English when I walked out the door. I was the tannest kid in the middle of winter, and I never understood American football. I thought to myself how wonderful it would be when I returned to Brazil where I would be accepted. A land filled with wonder and excitement. An amazing place that was tropical and where people talked, walked, and sounded much like me. This was a dream that was nearly confirmed when I returned to Brazil during the nineties to obtain our greencards (yes, I came to this country illegally as an infant). However, I was young and my memories of Brazil only included my family and people that loved me regardless of my nationality. So it wasn’t until I returned to Brazil, as a lone missionary that I fully understood what it was to be Brazilian. During that time I realized a few things about myself. One, is that I have been Americanized. I didn’t understand what it was to live and be raised Brazilian. Two, I am still Brazilian. Much like Moses who was raised Egyptian but still returned to the Hebrew slaves because that was who he was, Hebrew.

Something was different and it wasn’t made apparent to me until my first day in the mission field. My first discussion was with a black man, in the middle of a favela (a ghetto), with an American hating, illiterate Osama Bin Laden loving retard. It dawned on me that as much as I loved both countries; neither countryman gave a rat’s behind about the other. That didn’t sit well with me. I loved both countries equally. I’ve always told people who’ve asked me “What country do you love more”, neither. It would be equal to asking me what brother I loved more, Daniel who was born Brazilian or Dennis who was born American. I love them equally. Each country, much like each brother, has things about them that make me proud, and things that make me sick. So it goes my journey to change the world begins with my efforts to understand myself.

This blog is going to be about my journey. When you read the things I type, you must understand the conflict that resides within me. You might read something that makes you think I hate this country, but I don’t. You may also read something that makes you think that I have forsaken my country of origin, again which is not the case. I am simply a perfect mixture of Yellow, Green, Blue, Red and White with a hint of Brown!