As I worked through my shame a few weeks ago, this week I set to grow with grace. Reflecting on my journey of pregnancy and the birth of my only natural child, always takes me to a deeper understand of love. The kind of love that covers all pain. Not just the love I have for her, but the love our Father has for us. The fears and doubts that I had in the first years of my daughter’s life diminished as I sought for a power bigger than myself.
At the age of thirteen I was in a place that I would have never imagined myself to be, pregnant in the 7th grade. It sounds like some reality TV show, one filled with tons of drama, but it was my reality.
I was a mother at 14
Knowing I was pregnant rocked my already cracked foundation. It all happened so quickly. One day I was hanging with friends singing madonna songs that played on the radio. The next day I was looking at the results of a home pregnancy test. How had this happened to me? How was I ever going to raise a baby?
After I gave birth the relationship that was to last until the end of time fell apart. I was left heartbroken, alone, lost, and in desperate need of guidance. The fears I had made me doubt the little faith I possessed.
I was blessed that God was working in me and through me. Even when I refused to acknowledge it. In time I began to understand that I could not raise her alone. Having Ashley pushed me to rely on faith. Pushed me to protect the person I created.
The first years of my daughter’s life was filled with lessons learned, growth in pains and many, many sleepless nights. As I held her and looked into those big brown eyes I would whisper promises.
I promised her that I would always do my very best in protecting her from evil.
I promised that I would do my very best in making sure her needs were met.
Many nights I would place the palm of my hand gently on her chest so that I could feel it raise and fall, promising to protect her.
I never knew that my life would unfold to where I am today. The tiny baby I held in my arms at 14 would become a beautiful 26 year old lady that I call my best friend. She is the one that encourages me to fight for my dreams. She taught me how to shoot for the stars even in the times when the clouds are thick.
Did I know It would be this way?
Did I know she would be my only natural child?
Did I know our bound as mother and daughter would be this tight?
No.
All I knew was that I had to fight and believe while odds were against us. Today I do not place the palm of my hand on her chest to check if she is breathing, today I look for life in her face. Those big brown eyes make me remember the promises that I would whisper to her. I hope she knows I did my best. Once I held her, life wasn’t about me, it was all about her, and the dreams I had for her.
We have times in our lives when we wonder how we are going to survive. If children are involved we wonder how will we survive without completely ruining them. I know I often struggle with this. The truth is we all have a story and we don’t know how it will end. The promise that I whisper to you is that with faith and searching for the truth you will have the power to keep rolling on.
When thinking about someone’s past it may be easy to point out what they might regret or dwell on. For Sergio this may seem easy, but
It’s Not the Wheelchair.
I was reminded this week that no matter how strong Sergio has become and no matter how many years have passed, he still has moments when he looks down the road of regret.
He is human.
I thank God that he doesn’t pitch a tent and stay there, instead he looks down the tough terrain and reflects on how it could have been different. I am so proud of his willingness to share his true self and to be transparent. That takes an even deeper kind of strength
I wasn’t prepared for the emotions that flowed from within me when Sergio shared in church that he was struggling. He hadn’t warned me of what subject he would share during devotions. He opened up about how at times certain situations stir memories of his painful childhood. He wasn’t sharing about losing his ability to ever walk again. I would think that getting shot and being confined to a wheelchair would have been his greatest obstacles.The loss of his childhood out weights the loss of his legs.
He has overcome being in a wheelchair much faster. The loss of a “normal” childhood has always stuck with him and he fights for our family and loved ones to never have to feel that way.
The wheelchair is just how he rolls.
When these memories attempt to slow him down, they cannot because God has been and will always guide and use a person’s struggles for good. We may take a quick look over our shoulder and ponder why these events have happened, but God’s will for us is powerful enough to move mountains.
The beauty in witnessing the rocky terrain that he looks back at is that I get to watch how he quickly turns and heads forward again. I see him refocus and set new goals to help others overcome some of the same pains. I watch and listen on how he plans to seek someone new to encourage. I see that with every new trip he packs lighter and lighter. God is teaching he and I how to let go of the extra baggage we have collected over the years. I smile each time he opens up to someone and exchanges pain for hope.
Watching Sergio encourage others to keep rolling on gives me the power to keep rolling on.
Is there something in your past that can still haunt you to this day? Is there a way that you can let it go? Do you fight for your loved ones not to experience the same things you have?
The passed few weeks at the Sanchez house has been filled with the noise of mom telling our kids to clean out their closets because school is around the corner and the junk needs to be cleaned out.
They’re instructed to take out all the clothes that no longer fit, to be placed it in a plastic bag that’s located in our dining room. I have to laugh every morning, as I have my coffee, when I see the big 55 gallon trash bag grow with junk from their rooms.
They’re told anything that doesn’t belong in their closets needs to go. To Jason, my 16 year old, it means getting rid of all the empty shoe boxes. He is told to get rid of anything that would stop his hamper from fitting inside his closet. Norah always has to throw in these words when she talking to Jason, she reminds him to stop being a hoarder.
To Gese, my 7 year old, it means all the subway lunch bag collection needs to disappear, all of last year’s school paperwork needs to go away, and no clean clothes better been on the floor. Also make sure that nothing finds it way under your bed or there will be a lot of explaining to do! Again, these are words Norah just has to say.
This has become a ritual at the Sanchez house at the beginning of every August as we prepare for the upcoming school year. My title of dad changes to chauffeur and ATM machine.
When it is time to go back-to school shopping, I spend my time driving everyone around, and I spend too much time looking for cleats, socks, underwear and school supplies. This wouldn’t be so bad if we could choose one or two store to buy everything we need, but this is not an option for the Sanchez’s, we have to visit every store within a 200 mile radius. This year was different because we added car shopping to the list for our 16 year old son. Not only did I have Norah guiding me to the next shopping center, I now had my son pointing out every car dealership we passed by.
I have to say that this years back to school travels where exhausting!
My shoulders were sore from all of the wheeling around in my wheelchair, and my head hurt because of so much time spent with car dealers.
But I have to admit that I wouldn’t change any of it because after all the dust has settled, I get a front row seat to the Gese Sanchez fashion show. I get to see her eyes fill with excitement and joy because of the upcoming school year. So much that we need to remind her that she can’t wear her school clothes to bed.
For my son I can see that he can’t wait to be able to drive himself to school. All of this traveling and money spending takes a toll on me and Norah, but we are more than happy to do this for our kids. Because all we ever wanted when we started a family was the ability to do for kids in ways that we weren’t able to when we were younger. We want them to remember, and God willing when they start a family they will do the same.
My first few years of being in a wheelchair I had doubts that I would ever have the ability to have a normal life and family. I don’t think this way anymore because I had my eyes open by the Lord and he showed me that I could have anything I wanted I just needed to believe. At the beginning of every August I will be reminded of my blessing by scheduled trips to the mall and in Gese’s case one more trip to a car dealership in about ten years.
To all the dads out there I want to shout out to you to remember that time is short with our kids so enjoy the torture of the malls and stores. Try to spend the remaining time you have with them to get their eyes to sparkle with the excitement of life. Dont miss out on the fashion show where you’re the guest of honor.
Rejoice in the gift or gifts that the Lord has given you.
It is obvious that Norah and Sergio are great people, and I’m lucky enough to be their daughter.
Growing up I never realized I was a free spirit until I heard people described me that way. It was not a trait I knew I possessed.
I know my parents didn’t set out to raise me to be a free-spirited person, but they raised me to be my own person and to make my own decisions, which is the same thing as being free-spririted only they didn’t know that’s what they were doing.
In junior high school we learned about politics. Democrats and Republicans. My peers knew exactly which political party they were affiliated with and exactly where all of their values stood, at the age of 13.
I struggled because I had no idea what my political party was.
My classmates would speak up and say “Well my dad believes……”
I had nothing, I had no idea what my dad believed in. I had no idea if he was a Democrat or Republican.I was perplexed all day long, I needed to figure out exactly what I was. I went home that day, sat down for dinner with my parents and expressed my concern.
“Mom, Dad I’m curious am I a Democrat or a Republican?”
“Well, Ashley, that is for you to decide.”
“What you you mean, I need to decide? All the other kids know what they are.”
“That’s because the other kids are probably what their parents told them to be.”
“Well can’t I be what you are?”
“No you have to make that decision for yourself, we can’t tell you what to believe in.”
That day I had more respect for my parents than they would ever know. I always look back to that moment and I know that I was not like everyone else. There are so many stories of people who are pushed to be what their parents want them to be. Kids go to schools they don’t want to be because it is where their parents attended. People pick professions based on what their parents want. I hear these stories and I thank my parents for letting my chose my own life path.
As well as teaching me that I am always free to make my own choices my parents have taught me that I can do anything in life that I want to do. I can say that I have a balanced life of a stable job and a stable place to live, but I often have my head in the clouds thinking of the things I still have to accomplish. I love that about them. I love that they have taught me to be my own person and that they have taught me to dream big.
What are we doing in this life if we aren’t dreaming big? I spend all of my days knowing that I have a purpose in life, I don’t have to be like my peers. I don’t have to believe in something just because someone told me to.
I encourage everyone to make their own life choices despite what someone else tells them they need to do. Deep down we all know what we want, and no one can stop us but ourselves. I’ve always known I can accomplish all that I want because my whole life I’ve been shown that.
God gave us the gift of free will, at times we use it to make mistakes, but in the best of times we use our free will to create something beautiful.
That is all we can strive to do, is make something beautiful.
If the walls could speak in our house, I wonder what they would say. I’m not sure what they would say about the first 90 years of their existence, because we only started roaming around these walls since 1997. That was when Norah and I were introduced to the place that we now call Home.
The first time I saw our home it was dark outside and very cool; winter was a few weeks away. Norah and I were unsure if we could afford to purchase the house. Pulling up I saw a wrap-around porch and 4 steps leading to the front door. I started to wonder how was I going to get in, but it wasn’t a problem because Norah turned my wheelchair around so my back wheels were against the steps and pulled me up onto the porch. As i wheeled myself through the front door the first thing that caught my eyes were two sets of French doors with glass going from top to bottom. The doors were stained a light brown showing the grain of the wood. I was speechless and all I could do was imagine me and my family calling it home!
The walls must have as
ked, “Who are these three new faces?”
I could imagine the walls saying the little one better not write on me, the mom looks like a painter, she better not think about it. The man is in a wheelchair, he’s going to bang us
up.
But the Lord said YES! He answered our prayers and we were able to buy the house. God is good!
Today the walls would say, “My, look at how beautiful Ashley has become, she’s all grown up, finished school and starting her own life.”
Maybe the walls would describe how they remember Ashley playing Barbies in her room for hours. The walls would wonder if she still had the phone that she helped wire in so many moons ago.
They would ask, “I wonder how many books she has read and if she still plays volleyball?”
The walls would have a story to tell of a young girl becoming a women and that when she was 14 her life changed from being the only child to becoming a big sister to Weslea age 5 and Jason age 4.
The walls would speak of how they saw Ashley give her all to her new brothers, and how she would protect them. The two little boys now belonged to her family. The walls watched Ashley become a great big sister.
The walls would hear that Weslea asked a lot of questions because he was very smart and very curious for a 5 year old. The walls knew that he never forgot anything, and he made you keep your word.
The walls could see that Jason was a cute kid who got his way just by smiling and showing his dimples. They knew that Jason wanted to be a football player, wrestler, and a basketball player.
BOYS! The walls would say, “What a joy these two boys are to Ashley, Norah and Sergio!”
They could see how the boys filled a gap in their lives. And how our family filled a gap in the boys’ life. God must have had this all planned the day we walked and rolled in the front door of our Home.
The walls knew they needed to expand to make room for the family of 5. One wall was torn down to make room for an addition. Each person in the family had a room of their own, and they no longer all had to share 1 bathroom.
The walls were just as surprised as the family was when Gese, age 2, came to live with
them. The boys were blessed with a little sister at ages 11 & 10. They had to teach her the rules of the house. As big brothers they needed her know that she wasn’t allowed in their rooms and that she couldn’t touch their stuff.
But the walls knew the boys were softies and enjoyed to watch them cuddle while watching cartoons with their little sister.
If the walls could speak today they would all say, “It is amazing how Norah and Sergio have grown as a family. They went from a family of 3 to a family of 6. God has his hands on this family, and they are blessed.”
For the past 17 years the walls of our Home have been filled with the noise of memories, the place where we played, a place where we grew, making us a family.
Remember having somewhere to go is a home, having someone to love is a family, having both is a blessing!!
At one time it was just Sergio, Ashley and I. Birch Street looked and sounded a little different. Wow how things have changed how the wheels have turned and because of God’s divine plan for us, we have several family members within eyes reach.
My mother and stepfather live across the street, and to the left lives my sister-in-law, my father in law, and my cute little nephew. My brother and beautiful niece don’t live that far from us and a block away from them lives my one and only Ashley.
Sergio, Ashley and I moved to Yuma first, and our family followed. Not sure why they wanted to be so close? I think they must love us or something? The truth is when it comes to family events it is fun watching the kids run back and forth with excitement. Family time is so fulfilling. My son Jason enjoys having the family so close. Being a teenage boy he is always hungry and someone always has something “good” to eat in their fridge. The kids have it made around here. They are always getting spoiled.
With living so close to one another one would think that we get together all the time. The truth is there are some weeks that go by where we simply wave at each other as we pass on the road. Life’s demands tie us down. However once we make plans to slow down and have family time we do just that….. Have family time.
A time and day is set and out goes the mass text messages with menu ideas and the reposes come back with what everyone plans to make. The meal is made with love and that spice is awesome. Some of us get creative and try new recipes and other of us have our specialty that is always requested.
If someone arrives five minutes early it’s my step-dad followed by my mother announcing that he “just has to come early.” When I hear singing that’s usually my brother and when I hear slow wheels across my wooden floor that would be my father-in-law because when I hear fast wheels it is Sergio and watch your toes if he’s got meat to put on the grill. He’s got this crazy timing thing going on where you must time the meat to cook it to perfection.
When I hear “it smells amazing in here” that’s my Ashley, she loves our cooking. When you see a cape and not a word is spoken that would be Batman Aka my nephew. He is always here to protect us. When I hear the sound of cute shoes (I know what cute shoes sound like) followed by “need some help” that would be Sergio s baby sister.
My favorite part of family time is listening to the kids. I love hearing their laughter. Then comes the time for the adults to share their story of the week. Some of those stories get kind of crazy depending on who the story teller is. If it’s my husband you are sure to be me amused and if it’s my mother your jaw is dropping. If it’s my brother telling the story it gets out of control quickly. The combination of the three of them gets down right crazy.
When I hear the sounds of my family voices and smell all the different foods I smile thinking of how far we have all come. How we each have made it through many struggles. None of us have arrived to our destination yet. We travel in our own unique way. Sometimes we go backwards, fall in a ditch but with God’s grace we refocus, turn our WHEELS, get back on the road and move forward. When we receive that text we put good food together with love, prepare to share our stories and head over to what we call Family time……….As I tread through.
