Raising a Teen...AGAIN!!!

I think raising a teen is way up there as far as challenges are concerned with going through a divorce, I know that much because I've raised two teens, a girl and a boy and I've also been through a divorce.

But what happens when I'm done raising my teens, come full circle through the divorce, gotten stronger and better than ever, gotten happily remarried and all of a sudden I find out I'm about to help finish raising a teen only this time it's not my own. I haven't had a chance to love him unconditionally I didn't raise and hardly know him so he comes to me with somebody else's life hangups and challenges, mom couldn't handle him so I said yes because I want my life partner to have a chance at the same thing I have, the satisfaction that I was always there for my children and they turned out to be two wonderful human beings.

I'm not going to lie and say that it's something I do from the heart because at times it has been very challenging and I've had feelings of resentment because it has come to take away the peaceful private and enjoyable atmosphere that my husband and I had created in our environment.

At first I allowed for the situation to settle down and adjust because I could imagine how difficult it must be for him to come from this little beach town where he grew up where he was in a very negative relationship with his mother. She never saw anything good in him, hyperactive child medicated by a very neurotic and hypochondriac mother, never put any effort into school, all he ever wanted to do was play soccer.

Mom leaves him behind and takes along the good son, the one who likes to study and learn, who is self contained, who caters to her by giving her hugs and kisses and moves very far away. So this kid who had a terrible relationship with his mother is never able to heal and close a circle.

Aren't we supposed to help those who need something we have in us to give? Wasn't I there one day when my ex-husband wanted to have a relationship with his father because he too was raised by a very dysfunctional and negative mother? Didn't his father's new wife make him kick us out of their house just because she was jealous of the re-birth of father and son relationship?

All of that is well and good, I want to be the cause of something good coming out of all this effort we have tried to put into my husband giving birth to the relationship he always wanted to have with his son, but there is also me and my desires, my rules, my needs, my privacy, my relationship with my husband.

So instead of running away and not being a part of this coming of age event in the life of a teenager in partnership with his father, I decided to make the rules very clear.

I will give up the things I've gotten accustomed to that bring me joy and peace, the time to help, the space, the patience, the guidance, but in exchange for that I will need to see passion and interest in learning and making the best choices. I will want to see appreciation for all the opportunities that life is giving him at a time when he didn't know which way to go to become a productive human being.

Now the ball is on his court, he arrived here an arrogant know it all cocky 19 year old who behaves like a 13 yr. old if I'm being generous. The first thing he did was asked dad to buy him video games and collection cards, he begrudged the cell phone we gave him with  unlimited everything. His father signed him up for the gym where I didn't sign myself up because of finances and we had strong disagreements because if I am going to have to clean up someone else's dirty work as far as raising a child is concerned it will have to be my way, otherwise this will never work.

I believe you always have to do the right thing for everyone concerned and that includes me. The other day I told my stepson. If I am stern and strong with you is because I care, the day I stop caring you will never hear from me again. So you have a choice, you either do it in this house with our rules or elsewhere with yours.

I don't care how many times I have attended these meetings with parents with problem children and how much I believe I'd be doing it a different way if that were my child, if when it happens to me I make the same mistakes I see everyone making, trying to be your kid's friend, trying to have him approve of you and like you. I rather he doesn't like me and becomes the best version possible of himself, than like me and become a loser.

There is no doubt that "Raising a Teen" is not easy, but if the Universe sent him to me at this stage in my life it must be for a reason, so I'm going to give it my best shot and see what goes...

It's starting to rain outside again, just like "Raising a Teen"...

Hugs xoxo
@nit@

"The Changing of the Guard"...

Those were the words that Poppo used so many times throughout his life. Poppo was a second father to me and he took his job very seriously. He passed away recently and we spoke at least once a week up until the end of his life. He was such a strong force in my life that might have even helped change its direction. For one he was probably my No. 1 fan, one of three actually, his sister Beverly was my No. 2,  my Mom was too she always rooted for me and believed in me till the end but she always 'Hoped' I would do well with my life whereas Poppo and Beverly knew I would. I don't know of any others but with the three of them I had my heart full of love and gratitude.

I knew Poppo since I was 17 and started dating his son. He lived in Chicago most of his life so once I married his son we moved to be near him. The years went on, we created a family and made him a Grandpa. He was always telling all of us jokes and funny stories mostly of war time when he served in the Marines, he spoke of that with so much pride, even though he was at war his stories felt to me as if those could have been some of the best years of his life. He also told us stories about sports, he Loved sports. I always thought he should have been a coach, he would have been amazing at that because he had the love of it, the knowledge and a great rapport with kids and because he never got it out of his blood.  "And this is a true story" he would say to the kids with a slightly crooked shy smile on his thin lips.

I remember he gave me a subscription to People Magazine as a birthday gift and every year he would renew it right on that day, he knew that every month that magazine came to my house I would think of him with gratitude and love. He never missed a birthday or a holiday always with a call or a card or both. Even for all the years that I was no longer his daughter in law he would do that and every time we spoke just before we hung up he would say two things to me, "Don't Step on the Cracks" and "You will always be my favorite daughter in law". He was as handsome as they come till the end but most of all he was the kindest person I knew. He never had a bad word to say about anyone, I remember every time we spoke of someone who might have hurt him in his life somehow, he would always justify the reason why they had done that.

No judgement wow, I never knew anyone like that, while I was younger I thought that was a weakness on his part, that he was either not seeing that people were not doing the right thing by him, or maybe he didn't feel worthy of more I thought, later on as he persevered with his position in this life and his views were firm I understood that he was right not to judge, that nobody does anything to us, that they are just reacting to their own life circumstances. We chose whether we stick around or not, that's our choice.

The Changing of the Guard was something he would talk about as in passing the responsibilities to the next generation when his time was up. He even wrote an article about that. He used to write articles with his opinions and send them to the Chicago newspapers to see if the editor would print them and they always did, he was very proud of that and so was I. I admired that he was trying not to be part of the problem by just standing by and doing nothing about an issue he felt strongly about, he took the time to write and the courage to send it and see if anyone would deem it important enough to print it in a newspaper editorial and they always did. At the end he put together this large book that contained his story in a way. He also added letters he had asked people to write about him. Like a testimonial that he passed by and left behind a great legacy of love.

He told the story of how he would carry his son as a baby, sit him next to him when he shaved and gave him a Gillette without a blade, the old fashion kind, put some foam on his little face and they would shave at the same time. I thought that was such a lovely memory I kept it engrained in my heart.

He would make jokes out of the years he spent living with his parents who didn't have much money and even about his father who had a sad ending as if accepting his lot in this imperfect life and finding love and laughter behind all those imperfections.

He was a proud man, took care of his wife even while he was battling his own illness at the end. He was prepared to go, we spoke about that at length, he didn't have any unfinished business because he had made peace with everything, not a lavish life, not an easy one either but one lived with dignity, courage and no judgement. He lived life as it came and allowed it to flow. "And That's a True Story".

I can only hope that one day I will be the person that he was. He was loved and admired by many. He stood up for what he believed the best way he knew how. If he has to come back to make corrections he will have a great head-start.  I know his next life will be amazing!

At the end my name didn't even appear in his Obituary, as if I had never existed in his life, but I know he was wearing my name in his Heart.

He left a great legacy of love through his son and his grandchildren who will always think of Poppo as the Greatest Grandpa. And now it's time for "The Changing of The Guard"...

Miss you Dad xoxo
@nit@

I Should Have Danced one Last Dance...

I don't remember when was the last time I danced with my father. My relationship with my dad went through many different stages only to end up the way it started.

I remember very well the image I had of my dad when I was a little girl and the reason I remember it so well is because when that image changed it was never the same again. I loved my dad, he was my hero, he was smart and sharp, charming, charismatic, upbeat, he spoke several languages including difficult ones like Yiddish and French. He was very talented, artistic and most of all he didn't seem shy. He acted in Community Plays and many times had the lead role, he was friends with Abraham Zabludowsky  because they went to school together and knew other celebrities as well. I remember he was a Mason, I never knew what that was because he kept it all secret, so he knew how to keep secrets that was honorable to me.

His father, my dear dear Seide Eli was always sick, he had Burgers Disease, a disease of the blood that when he would get a cut the area could become gangrened and he lost several parts of his body to it, like the pinky on one hand and part of his leg from the knee down, my brother and I used to fight for who was going to sit on his half leg in the back seat of the car. To us it was fun, we didn't think anything of it because we grew up around that. But to my dad it changed the way he handled his life. He gave up going to Medical School after only a year because he had to take care of his parents. They had a small canning company that canned all types of chiles like serrano, jalapeño,  chipotle, vegetables like carrots, etc. The factory was right next to their beautiful house in the Lindavista neighborhood of Mexico City.

But it goes way back, my grandpa also had a huge potential, he was born in Alexandria, Egypt where his father was opening a new Synagogue. He was a religious man opening synagogues around the world. He took some of his children with him to Mexico to open one there. My Seide became a chemist, very profitable and comfortable path ahead of him but when you are sick nothing you plan works out the way you thought it would and in the end that's what happened, Seide Eli didn't make it the way he planned and neither did my dad. Their intentions were good but their circumstances were not.

I always thought my dad could have been very successful in the entertainment industry because he had the potential and the talent and most of all because he seemed to love it so much, he certainly had much more personality than some of the personalities that have succeeded and he had the desire and the drive, but he gave up on the dream.

I remember dancing with him all the time at parties, he was the Master of Ceremonies at most of the events of the Mexican Jewish Community and outside of it sometimes. I remember every weekend he would get all dressed up with a Tuxedo, he had a couple, he looked sharp and even his demeanor changed. He was happy to go to his parties to help liven them up and he helped himself as well bringing that extra money home. I'm sure there must have been MANY a times when he didn't want to go and spend all of his free time working to make others happy, but I never saw that in his face or his actions.

Outside of that he was a good salesman, he made a living certainly, we always had all we needed but he never got to where he wanted. Our lives were comfortable with the basics never luxuries.

Many things happened throughout the years with me and my dad. As the years went on so did the disenchantment from the man who once was my hero. He became more and more dependent on me and my mom,  it was always I who had to make the efforts to have closeness, to invite them, to make sure they were fine. We never really discussed his economy or his decisions and yet at the end it was I who handled his account till the day he died.

I was very lucky and grateful that my brother took over his well being in the last years of his life. He had to work that much harder to keep him in a place where he knew they would take care of him till the end with dignity. All the nurses and caretakers in that place loved Mr. Monty, he was still the same charmer and best dancer of the bunch. They all took turns dancing with him. I on the other hand, was unable to care for him or even see him again once I moved back to the United States to be near my children I had to work my way back and couldn't return before he died.

I'm happy that I was able to forgive, understand and stop judging his flaws, weaknesses, his inability to show love, that he stopped believing in himself and gave up on his dreams.

I was lucky to develop a stronger and more loving relationship with him towards the end of his life and thanked him for all he did for me while I was growing up. I have him to thank for my love of the arts.

At the end I learned to enjoy very much doing anything that I knew would bring him happiness. But I will always regret not being able to hug him one last time.

I Should Have Danced One Last Dance with my Dad...

RIP at last Dad, I Love You Very Much!!!

Hugs xoxo
@nit@