My Puzzle is incomplete

 My child, my baby, my son is gone. 

Suppose you have read my blog. I shared that I had birthed three beautiful children. My children all together did a perfect puzzle. But unfortunately, my ideal puzzle is broken; now, it is incomplete.

On August 7, 2021, I lost my youngest child to COVID. My Son John Steven Ponce earned his wings.

John was humorous and a loveable person.  He was 32, married, and a father of an 8-year-old boy. My son, John, was a good loving son. His heart was full of love and kindness; so many people loved him.

I never thought this could happen to me. But then, my worst nightmare came true. I have lost a child.

COVID is the cruelest disease… while hospitalized for COVID; John could not have visitors.  Still, thanks to the technology, we could speak via video chat.  But chatting through a camera is never the same then holding your child's hand, kissing his forehead, or being by his side to comfort him.

That is the cruelty of COVID besides the physical pain the person undergoes! He was thirty-two of age, a big teddy bear. To my eyes, I saw him small and defenseless.  I needed to be by his side, but it was impossible.  I know COVID is contagious, but I wouldn’t care. I just wished I could have been with him in his last moments.  I cry every night, thinking, "did my baby suffer" or "was he scared?"  “Did he die knowing how much I loved him?”, Did he know had I been given a chance to exchange places with him, I gladly would have done it. Oh, Lord! My heart is hurting so much.

I carried my baby for nine months; he was half an ounce away from being ten pounds. Such a beautiful baby he was.  Not too long ago, I carried a portion of his ashes with me from Florida to New York. A part of his ashes are with his widow in Florida, and an amount is back home with me. I wish I could have had a locket of his hair, but again, because the cause of death was  COVID, I was denied a locket of his hair.

Days after he died, I would go to bed wishing I would wake up, and it was all a bad dream; now I go to bed hoping he will visit me in my dreams.

 

Mommy misses you

Rest In peace, my baby.

 

 

Being a Supervisor

During the years I have worked, I have always worked at a supervisory level.  I have worked as a supervisor, not because of the pay rate but to interact with others and treat others as I would like others to treat me. 

As a supervisor, the expectations of your superiors are high; they want supervisors cold-blooded, not to have close interaction with staff, and not to be too friendly.  So they send you to all these trainings like " How to handle difficult Staff" or how to "Make Meetings be Effective" and many more,  which most of the time what you learn does not take place at your job. 

Supervision is not an easy task; well, at least for me, it has not been easy. When you work with a group of people for so many years, they become part of your circle. I,  been criticized many times when I had referred to my team as my work children.  However, if you think about it, they are like my children.  As a supervisor, I train and address things with them; I will stand by them even if they are wrong, just like a mother would and, then address the issue behind closed doors. 

Without a degree in Psychology, I have supervisor many people with diverse personalities.  I have learned to listen to them, help them get up on their feet, treat them humanely and put a smile on their faces in the most crucial working moments. I have shown them respect and have received the same in return.  I have apologized if I am wrong and have given the benefit of the doubt.  I feel their sadness and worry about them, and I celebrate their achievements. How can I not care and love these people? They have worked with me through thick and thin. They take time to text me or call me to wish me a Merry Christmas or a Happy Mother's day. 

Today my heart is broken. I learned that my co-worker Angel Campos, whom  I supervised for approximately ten years, has passed away. My heart is hurting in thinking how this man was sick and still would push himself to work.  This man was a big teddy bear.  He always had a "Good morning" to say, he loved to prank people on April fools, and today he has left this world.  He was a number one fan of Godzilla movies, oh and how he loved salsa music. He had the corniest jokes but, you did not have any other choice to laugh at his corny jokes. 

I remember when we started working together, he was full of energy, always happy and alert.  Then when his mom passed, he stopped taking care of himself and started deteriorating. Sometimes, when I would leave work, I would see him struggling walking down the street; there were times he was black and blue because he had fallen.  However, every time I would bump into him, I would ask him the same question "Angel, when are you going to retire?."  He would always say he was saving money to retire to Costa Rica; with a wink and, a smile his response was he just needed one more year. 

The last time I saw him, I was no longer his supervisor. He was sitting outside client services waiting for Access-A-Ride; when I saw him bruised again. He looked at me, knowing what I was about to ask, and quickly said he was going to retire.  All excited, he showed me some flyers of where he was planning to retire.  His plans to retire to Costa Rica had changed; he was planning to retire and live with his brother in this fantastic development for retirees. Angel didn’t like to be alone. 

The next day I was told he was in the hospital he was under life support. After weeks in the hospital, Angel left this earth before COVID made its grand entrance to NY.  Angel had underlining conditions.  Due to his medical issues, he would have been a victim of COVID; thankfully, God called him. 

Even though he was not blood-related, during the years we worked together; he became family. 

RIP Angel

 

Parent Hood

I am not one to call myself Christian but I do believe in the lord.  Do I read the bible daily? No, I do not.  Do I go to church every Sunday? No, I do not. However, that does not stop me from believing that God almighty has watched over me all these years.

When I was young I did mistake, because I was young and ignorant, I was not perfect.  Now that I am older, I try to share my mistakes with my children, they will teach their children from their mistakes, and it will go on and on.

Everybody knows that being a parent is not easy.  When your children are small, you teach them the good and the bad, you love them and you protect them, and you pray and hope that no harm will every come to them.

Even when your children become adults, you fear for them and still protect them. My opinion is when your children become adults it is even harder to be a parent.  When your children were small, you could protect them, put them under your wings and watch over them closely.  Once they become adults they have a mind of their own, they live their life their way.   Once adults you can give them advice but there Is no guarantee that they will follow your advice. When they fall on their knees be there to lift them up, when they get married you wish that the marriage last forever, when they become parents you pray that they be good parents and so on and on.

Some marriages after some years of marriage break up.  That is when you become the mother of a divorced child. That is when your ex-son in law or ex-daughter in law title changes to “The mother of your grandchildren” or “father of your grandchildren”.  The love you have for them will not change only the marital status they had with your child. That is when you are caught up in the middle of the break up.

Being the mother of a divorce child is not always a piece of cake, especially when there are grandchildren involved. Children are blessings, and don’t ask to be brought into this world therefore we protect our children and try to keep them safe from any pain and hurt they can receive from a broken marriage. In most divorce, children remain with the mother and the mother will vow to stand by their child for every step they take. The mother will carry the weight of the emotional part of the life of the children. And she/he is always ready to say anything negative of the child’s father/mother.  This only create bitterness for the children.

The love of a mother is incomparable; we can see it in the bible when King Solomon of Israel ruled between two women both claiming to be the mother of a child. Solomon revealed their true feelings and relationship to the child by suggesting cutting the baby in two, with each woman to receive half. The true mother preferred to give up her child to the other woman instead of having the baby cut in two.

My heart belongs to my children, and I will always stand by their side even though they are wrong or right if they are 20, 30, 50 years old it doesn’t matter because they are still my children. I ask the lord to give me wisdom, and to keep them safe and keep them away from all that can cause them pain and harm to their hearts. I guess what I am trying to say is that even though I don’t hear their laughter in the house, I don’t see them sitting by me I will always love them and protect them against those that want to cause them harm.

Extra Fees

Hello my Darlings!

The topic is extra fees.

Well here it goes, due to my Osteoarthritis I have to visit my orthopedics most likely every three months, for shots, or for a referral for pain management.

For the records! I love my doctor! She is the best.  She is very compassionate and really takes the time to hear me and clarify my concerns.  I been seeing her for a couple a years, if she would leave the practice I would be devastated.

Traveling to work by train and the up and going down the stairs of the train station triggers my aches and pains; by the third day going to work, I am popping painkillers. The doctor recommended I work four days a week, having three days off would give me time to handle the aches and pain before the following workweek.

Here comes the tricky part…in order for my employer to grant me reasonable accommodation  to work four days a week,  I needed to provide a letter from my doctor stating my condition and the reason why I should be allow to work 4 days only.

The letter from my doctor clearly states that my medical condition is permanent; however, my employer requires that I provide them an updated letter from my doctor stating my condition every three months, which I find ridiculous.

I have a co-payment of $30.00 every time I see a specialist, $30.00 might not be much but in my situation, it is a lot when you have exhausted your sick time and not being paid. The issue is, for my doctor to issue me an up-dated letter for my employer.  I have to pay besides the co-pay in addition another $45.00 for the letter.

I find it unfair being charged for a letter when I have giving them business for a couple of years.  Now a day, doctors do not even write, my doctors speaks into a recording device explaining the reason of the visit, and the diagnosis.  The recorded summary goes to a transcriber that transcribes the recording and uploads it to my medical record. Therefore, in reality the doctor does not even have to take the time to write, the assistant does the printing and stamping of the letter.

Therefore, my darlings, what is your opinion.  I would like to hear your opinion.  Should our doctor’s charge us for letters stating our medical conditions?

My Dilemma

Elevators and electric stairs are the best things they have ever invented! Anything that can prevent me from moving my legs up and down is a blessing.

Now here is my dilemma, In 2011, I was diagnosed with a "Degenerative Joint Dease” in simple words, I suffer from Osteoarthritis. Osteoarthritis is the most common arthritis. Osteoarthritis is when the cartilage of your bones wears down (very painful), meaning bone to bone. I went through physical therapy, did cortisone shots, etc., but nothing took the pain away.  After seeing three different Orthopedics, they all agreed the knee replacement was the best option. So in  2013, I had a total knee replacement done to my right knee.  But did it resolve my issue? NO!  There are days that I feel that the prosthesis in my knee is cutting through my skin, or there are days that it is so stiff that  I walk like the Pirate Jack Black. I still have a couple of surgeries to be done but, I'm in no rush, Sometimes the cure is worse than the pain.

So my darlings, let's get back to the elevator now that you guys know where I am heading.

Every day I take the train to work, as I am commuting, I am crossing my fingers, my legs, crossing even my eyes to hope that the elevator is working at my stop.  I hate going up the stairs; there can be only five steps, but it feels like a never-ending staircase when my knee is stiff and hurting. Besides having people push you, it is difficult to maintain balance on the stairs if I can't hold to the rail.

So what can I do? I take the elevator.  Taking the elevator is no joke.  Then, you had to be in the NFL or be a wrestler to get to the elevator.  Nowadays, people can see you with crutches, a cane, in a wheelchair, or you have a baby carriage and, they jump in front of you to be the first to get on the elevator. What kills me is that the elevator is on the top floor; usually, what goes up must go down that the law of gravity.  But people knowing that the elevator just went up, see you press the button for the elevator to come down; they walk right in front of you and start tapping the up button.  Hmmm, Is there a morse code that expedites the elevator to come down that I was not aware?

,

Nydia Mirta Garcia Rodriguez- My everything

The loss of a dear one always hurts, and even though time heals but memories remain.

My mother, Nydia Mirta Garcia Rodriguez, was the most wonderful woman I ever met, I fell in love with my mommy the day I was born, and till this day, no one can replace her. 

My mom was short, voluptuous, jet black hair with beautiful light blue eyes. It's a shame that she never felt that she was beautiful.  My mom always had a complex that she was ugly. 

She was my anchor, she was there for me when I got married when I gave birth to my children, and she was there to lift me when I got divorced. 

It never occurred to me that she would leave me so fast; you can't buy a warranty for a lifeline. We had made so many plans, oh we were going to travel, we were going to go to the festival of flowers in Aibonito (Puerto Rico) and many more other things. But she left me too soon. 

My mother was anemic and had gone through surgery; she did not have medical clearance when she had the surgery.  After the surgery, once home, she started sleeping more than usual and complaining about headaches.  My father took her to the ER, but the doctor said the headaches were side effects of the anesthesia from the surgery. So we trusted what the doctor said. 

My grandmother lived right behind our house; one day, while I was with mommy in the room, Grandma arrived.  She came to check on mom. Mommy had just woken up when grandma arrived. As mommy rubbed her forehead, she told my grandmother she had dreamt with my grandfather was standing in the light waiting for her. 

I have heard about "the light" in movies and shows but never thought I would listen to it come out from my mother's mouth. Grandma stood four foot and, five inches tall, a strong, aggressive old-school Pentecostal with faith to move a grain of mustard, turned pale. The expression on my grandmother's face was speechless; once again, I heard words that I had heard in movies and shows "walk away from the light" love.  Your father is waiting for me, not you, she said with an anxious tone and with tears in her eyes.  Her motherly instinct knew that my mom was going to join my grandfather soon. 

Again we had to take mom to the hospital. While she was in the ER, there was a problem with her health insurance.  She would not be admitted to the hospital until the insurance company confirmed her admission to the hospital. Meanwhile, she was left on a  stretcher in the ER hall with no medical attendance.  Devastating! I was on my way from work to the hospital. The drive to the hospital seemed never-ending. The more I drove, the further the hospital seemed to be. 

I didn't make it on time to hold my mom's hand or snuggle her with kisses and tell her I loved her and how much she meant to me. While my mommy was in the hall lying on the stretcher, not seen by any medical staff because they were waiting for health insurance clearance, she had taken a deep breath and turned blue, and that is when my mom's brain died. 

Being Short...

To begin, this is my first Blog I ever had and this will be my 1st post on my Blog.  I want to be honest and keep it real with all my future followers. I don't have a degree in journalism and I’m not a perfect writer, but I enjoy sharing with others, so if you see lots of typos please forgive me. The purpose of the blog is that we all have an awesome time.

As you should all know by now my name is Darlene.  For future references I will direct my followers as my darlings... I think it sounds cute and is pretty much close to my name.So, for the records once upon a time when I lived in Puerto Rico I was 4'11.  Somehow, I don't know how, when I came to New York I lost an inch! The doctor told me that I was 4'10"! I was heartbroken, that means one more inch to cut off long pants when shopping, but then I can just buy capris they are the perfect length, they fit me like long pants and I don't have to get them cut and hemmed.

Based on information that I found on the internet "By definition a little person or "dwarf" is a considered to be a person with an adult height of less than 4 feet 10 inches" here is the link if you are interested in reading about it http://www.chacha.com/question/what-is-the-height-to-be-considered-a-little-person ].

Being a short person is not easy especially being that I live in NY and I travel by train.  If I don't find a seat in the train you know I have to smell arm pits the whole ride to work, and believe me in summer it's horrible, especially when people don't use deodorant. If there is no seats I have to lean on the doors because holding on to the top bar is more like hanging to the bar when you are short. 

Now my darlings that are short, I figure out a way in how to get a seat in the train.  I found that if I push my stomach out and put my hand in the back of my waist, or rub my stomach in circular movements someone always gives me a seat...try it