There's something wonderful that happens when we have a day set aside to thank and remember our loved ones. We give ourselves the opportunity to see into our past and come out of those memories with a deeper understanding of why we are the way we are. Gratitude arises out of understanding, and that's a gift from God within.
My dad, Luis Francisco Dumois Calderon, born in 1914 has been gone now since 1999, and I miss his way of living....simply. My memories of him while growing up is an image of him sitting in his club chair, listening to his beloved classical music and reading one of his many books. He was a true intellectual and a sensitive soul. It was his escape from this world. I was intrigued by his intellect as well as intimidated by it. Luckily, I was a decent student and could hold my own in a conversation with him, but somehow felt a slight bit deficient throughout my life.
During the mid 1980's I suffered a few episodes of mild seizures which left me with a challenged memory. I always explain my sudden loss of train of thought as a result from too much 1970-1980 MaryJane indulgence! I am after all, a renegade flower child! But in truth, having had to live with this has affected my self esteem when it comes to my relationship with my intellect, which in turn summons up my memories with dad and his family.
I love to write, and the reason I love to write and even need to write, is that I want to leave my daughter and granddaughter with a true sense of who I am, and what I believe about being here and living my best life possible. I never want them to think or feel the "I never knew's" about my life. I went through that with both my parents, most especially my father. I now know that their lives were their best lives according to the times they lived in. My dad got to travel inside the heart of inspiration within all the great artists, poets, composers and authors. Living out most of his time there, whenever he wasn't working providing for us, must have left him feeling dry about the reality of his day to day life, and so he was also an alcoholic. It took many years before I could accept him just as he was, and stop judging his lack of "achievement"in this world. Throughout my life as a child, and as a young teen he would take me to the Columbia University Club in NYC a couple of times a month. He loved to go there, have lunch and engage in discussions with whoever he happened to meet there that day. In turn I got to meet some famous authors, artists, and businessmen of the times. I remember that as soon as you entered the salon you could feel the hushed energy of knowledge and privilege and yes, class consciousness. Back then not everyone got to go to Columbia University, or college for that matter. It affected me deeply, although not quite knowing why, for the following reason. I loved all people equally, never understanding how one could feel better than or lower than another human being. I just ignored that part of his upbringing, because I loved him and was able to see how the pressure of having to live up to that view of life had rendered him unable to find happiness and contentment outside of his books, art and music.
What we need to leave behind is the history of class consciousness and it's corresponding sense of "I'm not good enough/worthy, or I'm better than/entitled." This is another form of separation from the resplendent spirit we all possess. I've often wondered how many forms of separation there are? As many as there are humans living on this planet, would seem to be a fair assessment! Intelligence is one of them.
We have judgements about every single thing under the sun, including ourselves in relation to others. Yes, the concept of there being an "other" out there to compare and judge ourselves against runs rampant. I use the word "against" with intention, because the only "one" that we are against is our Self, the "One in all".
This Father's Day I want to love my Father's memory with compassion and forgiveness. I want to forgive his parents and their parents, all the way back as many generations as it takes to eliminate the unintended effects of the inability to see God in each other.
Thank you Daddy for giving me the love of all the Inspired Arts..... Poetry.... Literature..... and Music. Your love for these jewels of consciousness just oozed from you, and my spirit accepted your gift. Blessings to you on this Father's Day!
Love,
Mercedes
My dad, Luis Francisco Dumois Calderon, born in 1914 has been gone now since 1999, and I miss his way of living....simply. My memories of him while growing up is an image of him sitting in his club chair, listening to his beloved classical music and reading one of his many books. He was a true intellectual and a sensitive soul. It was his escape from this world. I was intrigued by his intellect as well as intimidated by it. Luckily, I was a decent student and could hold my own in a conversation with him, but somehow felt a slight bit deficient throughout my life.
During the mid 1980's I suffered a few episodes of mild seizures which left me with a challenged memory. I always explain my sudden loss of train of thought as a result from too much 1970-1980 MaryJane indulgence! I am after all, a renegade flower child! But in truth, having had to live with this has affected my self esteem when it comes to my relationship with my intellect, which in turn summons up my memories with dad and his family.
I love to write, and the reason I love to write and even need to write, is that I want to leave my daughter and granddaughter with a true sense of who I am, and what I believe about being here and living my best life possible. I never want them to think or feel the "I never knew's" about my life. I went through that with both my parents, most especially my father. I now know that their lives were their best lives according to the times they lived in. My dad got to travel inside the heart of inspiration within all the great artists, poets, composers and authors. Living out most of his time there, whenever he wasn't working providing for us, must have left him feeling dry about the reality of his day to day life, and so he was also an alcoholic. It took many years before I could accept him just as he was, and stop judging his lack of "achievement"in this world. Throughout my life as a child, and as a young teen he would take me to the Columbia University Club in NYC a couple of times a month. He loved to go there, have lunch and engage in discussions with whoever he happened to meet there that day. In turn I got to meet some famous authors, artists, and businessmen of the times. I remember that as soon as you entered the salon you could feel the hushed energy of knowledge and privilege and yes, class consciousness. Back then not everyone got to go to Columbia University, or college for that matter. It affected me deeply, although not quite knowing why, for the following reason. I loved all people equally, never understanding how one could feel better than or lower than another human being. I just ignored that part of his upbringing, because I loved him and was able to see how the pressure of having to live up to that view of life had rendered him unable to find happiness and contentment outside of his books, art and music.
What we need to leave behind is the history of class consciousness and it's corresponding sense of "I'm not good enough/worthy, or I'm better than/entitled." This is another form of separation from the resplendent spirit we all possess. I've often wondered how many forms of separation there are? As many as there are humans living on this planet, would seem to be a fair assessment! Intelligence is one of them.
We have judgements about every single thing under the sun, including ourselves in relation to others. Yes, the concept of there being an "other" out there to compare and judge ourselves against runs rampant. I use the word "against" with intention, because the only "one" that we are against is our Self, the "One in all".
This Father's Day I want to love my Father's memory with compassion and forgiveness. I want to forgive his parents and their parents, all the way back as many generations as it takes to eliminate the unintended effects of the inability to see God in each other.
Thank you Daddy for giving me the love of all the Inspired Arts..... Poetry.... Literature..... and Music. Your love for these jewels of consciousness just oozed from you, and my spirit accepted your gift. Blessings to you on this Father's Day!
Love,
Mercedes
Copyright 2012 by Mercedes Calderon. All rights reserved. This
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