Taken Back by Technology

I used to sit there, folding each note so precisely for myfriends. Learned a few tricks from my older brother and sister, of course.Thought I was real cool passing notes in school, in the hallways, during lunch andbefore 8^th period. Talking about everything that just went on andwriting about what was going to happen by the time the bell rang.

I remember when something went "viral" it was all thanksto “party line.” Yup, my parents added that to the phone bill because we were so cool. So I was able tocall more than one friend at a time. Don't get me started on Caller ID. Now that's when you knew you were moving on up.

I miss those days. I'm sick and tired of my computer screen, buttons, lights, rings, beeps, low batteries, processing and downloading. People in my business say, one day newspapers will be gone forever as media crosses into the digital world. I hope not. Holding something tangible to read is comforting. Using a bookmark to hold your place takes but a second. I can't remember the last time someone wrote me a letter and mailed it. I wonder if my nieces and nephews even know how to address an envelope.

Whelp, as the youngest of six kids, I realize I'm gettingold–er. My teenage niece, Niah Tyler, smiles politely, but giggles aloudwhen I ask if she’s heard of the latest…

“Yup, have it,” she says usually as she's glued to her iPhone.  

Wait a minute. I should have the edge on these kids when it comes to technology. But instead it shows how far technology has intertwined witheveryday classroom curriculum. For crying out loud, my 4-year old nephew knows how to pull up a website to play games and he can't even read yet. Forget ABC's he sure does know his URL's.

It's weird to think how we got by before cell phones. In high school, if I could have texted my friends before lunch to see where we were going to eat, I would have. But instead we just met by the tree in front of the school. If I could have texted my mom that I seriouslydidn’t feel good, then I wouldn't have needed a nurse’s pass. If I was stuck on a question during a final exam, then I would have texted...nevermind.

I digress. Oregon trail, anyone? Yup. I’m pretty good atshooting and hunting using up and down arrows. What about a pen pal? The good ol’ postal service delivering in impeccable time. My cousin was in shock when he saw my aunt pull out an encyclopedia to look something up. I'm sure he questioned why she wouldn't just Google it? I guess for kids now-and-days all that is obsolete.

I had my three-year-old niece, Leyla, crying on the phone to me because her “best cousin” Kiley didn’t have Skype installed yet. Are you kidding me? My sister Debra was so confused.

But to my surprise, I was happy to learn not everything has gone digital. I sat in my older sister’s living room. Surrounded by, wellsurround-sound speakers, a flat screen TV, every gaming system you can imagine andevery remote control device on deck. Nothing short of “Rosie” the robot walkingin and asking if I needed anything.

As it hit close to four o’clock that Friday, my sister’syoungest runs in.

“Mom!” He yelled like the most exciting thing took place inhis life as a third-grader.

“Tommy has the coolest pencil I have ever seen – ever!” Asmy nephew Elijah put his backpack, PSP and Android down on the the kitchen table.

"What does it do?” Mysister asked and looked at me confused.

“He has this pencil…that if you run out of the led, youlike keep pushing the eraser and like more led keeps coming out. Like youdon’t even have to sharpen it, mom! If we can, I want one.”

Did this boy just reference a mechanical pencil like it wasthe last of Steve Job’s inventions?

Hold up. Hearing that actually made me happy. Finally, going back to basics. History does repeatitself.

So while my nieces and nephews may not know what it’s liketo go to the office to use the school phone, write notes to friends or send a letter by mail. I was happy to see the following in their roomstoday:

 

It was good to see Seventeen Magazine was still going strong, that library books were still stamped and the Goosebumps collection has yet to get old.

Nonetheless, I find my nieces and nephews helping me out with my devices moreoften than not. On a side note, Oregon Trail MUST be at 7.0 by now?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Kind of Heartache I Long For

I was in line at Wendy's during lunch. Just a junior in high school with my friends trying to "act cool." As I stood in line I stared at such a familiar face waiting by the entrance, not sure if she remembered me and not even sure if I was certain I knew her.

But I thought I'd try anyway. An older man walked up to her grabbed her hand and helped her out. That's when I knew for sure it was them. My Uncle Tom and Aunt Mary.

He embraced me with a hug and a smile...a real big smile. She smiled too but seemed a little confused as to who I was. He told her,"It's Hilda's daughter! The youngest." She smiled politely and nodded.

I look back at that and now know at that time she had been through a stroke. That's why she was puzzled when I approached them. He stayed by her side and had taken care of her every single day as he promised -- through sickness and in health.

We all called him "Uncle Tom." That's who he was, even though in my early teenage years I found out he was actually my grandma's little brother. So really he was my mom's uncle -- a great uncle to me -- and that's for sure!

He was there when I said bye to my grandma. It was so nice to see a part of her walking around lifting others spirits. He said bye to his sister, but cradled us in conversation. In the midst of the sadness that day he told me,"Come home to El Paso so we can watch you here! Where your family is!" I was a news reporter in Amarillo at the time. I smiled, but never saw myself coming back home to work in my hometown.

My Aunt Mary's condition dwindled as the years went on. He never left her side. He took care of her and in his 70s, it took a toll on him as well. Tending to his wife for every need. Every single need. Real love. They grew old together and a couple years ago we lost her. But he lost a piece of him that we would never get back.

I've been through my share of heartache. From a high school sweetheart to a college crush and all hurt the same. A weight on my chest like I'd never be able to breathe again. But I found you get stronger. You move on. That's because it wasn't meant, because I believe soul mates last forever.

My Uncle Tom died of a broken heart this morning. I stared and watched my mother tell me sometimes you just miss your wife or husband sooo bad your heart just goes. Tears gracefully rolled down her cheeks. I held my mom and stared at my dad sleeping on the bed next to her.

If ever there's a heartache I long for: It'll be one where I've lived my whole life, but leave this earth because my soul mate takes my breath away.

My grandma and my Aunt Mary have their husband and brother back.

I hold onto to the card my Uncle Tom wrote me while I was in Dallas. In his obscure and messy cursive handwriting, that after a while takes a uniform pattern just like my grandma's did, he tells me to keep on pushing in my career.

Well, Uncle Tom, I'm back home in El Paso. I'm certain you're watching over all of us. After all, that is what family is all about.

"Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."
Matthew 11:28 KJV

"The righteous cry, and the Lord heareth, and delivereth them out of all their troubles. The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit."

Psalm 34:17,18 KJV

Former Olympic Hopeful Helps Local Gymnasts Achieve their Dreams

On Friday's edition of Sports Spin, we had the opportunity to speak with local gymnastics coach, Melissa Chavez-White, who was also a 1984 Olympic hopeful for the U.S.A women's gymnastics team. From trials to triumph, injuries and a near-death experience -- you'll never believe Melissa's story of perseverance.


After the interview on 600 ESPN El Paso. I took time that afternoon to sit down with Melissa, who is also a former boss of mine when I taught gymnastics at her west side gym. The ten minutes I planned to spend there, turned into well over an hour. Chatting about the parallels between sport and life, the Fab Five winning the gold and the pressures of winning at such a young age. Her take on life is one to look up to. Her conversation left me with a renewed feeling of hope, strength and endurance and I didn't do more than walk the beam.

After a tragic career-ending accident, Melissa was left with one choice to continue her passion for sports and gymnastics. She opened up her own gym at age 21 and almost 25 years later and thousands of students trained her purpose still holds true.

 

"I originally opened it up with hopes that someone would follow in my footsteps one day and hopes of them making the Olympic team," Melissa said.

 

As a little girl, Melissa watched the television closely as her idols, Olga Korbut and Nadia Comaneci, both Olympic gold medalists and pioneers opened her eyes to a whole new world.

 

"I begged my parents to put me in gymnastics! While it takes most teenage gymnasts a while to hit the elite level -- it took me only three years to get to the highest level," Melissa said.

 

Dedication is an understatement when it came to her dream of reaching the Olympics. She would work out and practice during the day, on the weekends and most often when people weren't even in the gym.

 

"I trained from 10-years-old to 15-years-old. When I was in high school I competed as an elite level gymnast and received a lot of media attention at that time," Melissa said.

It wasn't until she attended Coronado High School to compete in gymnastics, did her close friends even recognize her athletic abilities. But her private coaches did not want her to compete in high school because they were worried Melissa would get injured in high school competition.

 

"That's exactly what happened," Melissa said shaking her head in disappointment.

 

After doing two double-full twisting back-flips in a row Melissa went too high up and landed with her legs straight causing her to knee to pop backwards and tear her anterior cruciate ligament. She already had an existing ankle injury at the time.

 

She went through knee surgery and soon after needed to have a second operation as the first didn't go as planned. But this time, she found out she was dealing with more than a torn ACL. She says she is fortunate to be here today. In the process, they found out she had a brain tumor. She underwent brain surgery, instead of knee surgery, because she couldn't go under anesthesia.

 

"My hopes and my dreams of the Olympic games were dashed," Melissa said.

 

Melissa considers herself a very spiritual and positive person and believes everything happens for a reason. She said her brain tumor was a gift, not a set back.

 

"I believe God has a plan. I believe it was Mary Lou Retton's time in the spotlight in the 1984 games in Los Angeles -- not mine."

 

When asked on Sports Spin if she would have beat Mary Lou Retton had her injury not have compromised her Olympic debut, without a pause, without a doubt -- Melissa said, yes.

Melissa said there was a bigger plan for her life and a better one at that.

 

"This opportunity of being giving a second chance at life is worth more than the gold."

 

After her tumor was removed, Melissa studied the brain and has applied it to her lessons at the gym. In addition to teaching kids tumbling, she works with babies of which crawl earlier, walk sooner and tend to avoid the terrible-two's stage. She also focuses on handicap children and those with autism. Setting goals by developing better motor skills early on and teaching them to access a part of their brain through gymnastics, which helps aid the brain in the building of neurons.

"I've had some of my students come out of their autism. I don't just teach gymnastics. I'm teaching children how to develop mentally, emotionally, and even spiritually," Melissa said.

 

In her gym she has a mission statement:

"Winning is not everything. But the steps you take to get there and the way you treat others along the way is everything."

The Tenth

A poem dedicated to mothers who have endured the pain of losing a child; whether that be a miscarriage or during birth. This poem is special to me and my family. I thank God for giving me the words to write it.

Today I left you, but not alone
I saw Him hold your hand
He wiped each tear from your eyes
Please Mom understand:

He said that I was made

So perfect in your womb
He knew my name and my days
He just asked me to come Home soon

The hurt you felt in your heart

He said He will take away...
And replace it with a resounding joy
Enough to fill your days

He heard your cry

though you couldn't hear mine
He mourned with you and stayed
He promises me and you…
    will see each other again one day

The reason why I had to leave

He knew it all along
He needed me ABOVE you
Instead of in your arms

He asks you not to forget of me

But remember me each time you pray
Because that's when we are closest
When you look up...I see your face

These wings are awfully big

But perfect to protect all of you
I hold you all so tight at night
And follow your steps too

When you start to miss me

Use the windows to my soul
Stare into daddy's eyes
And that's when you will know

Because when you smile back at him

He'll see me smiling too
That's when you'll feel the peace and strength
Knowing I'm so close to you

With peace I leave you and dad
My sisters and my brother too
I may not have seen my room
But you gave me life in your womb

You sacrificed your body
To bring forth an eternal life
More special than you know
Forever...I will survive!

From here I see it's clear as day
As He rocks me in His Arms
The Lord gave His only begotten son
And in return you gave Him yours

When tears fall and years go by
Listen to the beating of your heart
Because He made me through you
That will never keep us apart

Love your Angel Baby
Our time on Earth was short
But that is only a temporary place

I'm

        Home

                     Forever

                                       Now.

Mr. Right-Now

Approaching my thirties, still very young, yet feel like I may be on some sort of endangered species list, so to speak, when it comes to the last of my kind: An 80's baby without any...babies. Not married. Never been. No children. Single, yet trying to find the upside in the absence of what may be the biggest longing in our human nature: Companionship, comfort, security, happiness and quite simply unconditional love.  


Two serious relationships, the experience of meeting new people in college and a handful of awful dates later -- 

I've come to realize that love is one of the most complex emotions and experiences that we will ever know. One of the best and worst feelings. But should it be?

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."

                                                                        1 Corinthians 13:4-7

Heard that before? Hopefully, your eyes didn't just skim through it, but you truly took it in. We were put on this earth to love. There's so many ways to love. It takes on so many forms. It starts so early in our lives. The moment your newborn baby and you gaze into each others eyes for the first time. The unexplainable love for the two people who gave you life. The feeling you get when you see your first crush pass by your locker. The length a close friend goes to in order to put a smile on your face while it is soaked in tears. The tilt of your dog's head and wag of his tail when you get home from work. The joy in your heart sharing the same blood with those who shared the same womb with you as you were growing and the same room with you growing up. The butterflies you feel when a man gets down on one knee with tears in his eyes. Love.

But none of these reach their full capacity unless you love yourself first. If we don't love who we are, flaws and all, then we have nothing. If we don't learn to accept that God made us intricately, without mistakes, but beautifully inside and out - then we don't have anything to offer to those we want to share our love with. Simply put, you will not be able to see the full potential love has to offer if you do not love who YOU are first. Don't just love who you used to be. Don't wait to love who you want to become. But in this moment, if you seek true love from others, love yourself completely and honestly.

"If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing."

 1 Corinthians 13:1-3

I know times have changed, but love doesn't have to. We don't have to let divorce rates, this generation that is plagued with custody battles and cheating define our future in love. My parents met in fourth grade because my dad was best friends with my mom's brother. Almost 43-years later they're still in love. My sister has seen the downside to love, the hurt in divorce and the pain in moving on. Yet in her early fourties, she will soon celebrate her second annivesary to a man that has changed her life, her world and made a house a home for her children. In the words of George Strait, I've never seen her look so good in love.

"And now these three remain: faith, hope and love.  

But the greatest of these is love."
1 Corinthians 13

There's a book my aunt gave me that has changed the way I feel about finding love when it comes to my next serious relationship. There's no deadline, ticking clock or weight from those around you questioning the absence of a ring on your left hand. I'm okay with where I'm at in life as a single woman and and have found I don't need to search for love. I don't need to accept any man that comes my way, that sends me a dozen roses or takes me to dinner. There are times I feel lonely. There are times I question if I will have children and those are the times I'm Letting GO of God instead of Letting Go and Letting God. His timing will be perfect and my heart will feel peace. But for now as I wait, I open this book and read:


It's not our job to search diligently for love as if it's life's scavenger hunt and we must not come out empty handed. The love of your life will find you when you least expect it. Perhaps it's someone you've known all your life, someone across the country that you otherwise thought you'd never cross paths with or the man or woman behind you in the grocery line of which you engage in simple conversation as you wait.


I believe I do have a soulmate. I don't regret the years I invested in either of my relationships. I'm not angry that 13 years later, I didn't see a return on what may some call an investment. What I did gain is the knowledge of what love felt like, what it could be like and what it shouldn't feel like. Without those experiences, I wouldn't know how to approach my next relationship whole-heartedly and knowing it takes hard work and dedication just like anything else that demands success.

Dating should be fun and exciting, but limited to those who deserve your worth and your time. Don't over-indulge your life with temporary people you know you can't see yourself walking down the aisle towards. Don't fill in the gaps of your love life like you would a resume. No need to explain to anyone why you are where you are in your love life. 

What opened my eyes, were the words of my best friend when I felt compelled to find love and in a hurry. I told her I was talking to someone, but didn't know if it could become of anything worthy. She said, "Let God guard your heart. Wait on Mr.Right and stop looking for Mr.Right-Nows!"

So right now, I've decided it's best not to be a part-time lover and it's best to let go of these almost lovers in my life. Real love will surface when we least expect it. True love is what we all hope for. Maybe it'll happen in my early fourties or maybe my future husband used to sit next to me in the fourth grade. But I pray whoever he is, wherever he is at, that at this very moment, God keeps him safe from harm, guides his paths and guards his heart...until we meet.

 A Fine Frenzy

"Almost Lover"

What to Expect, When You're Expecting...

Not a baby, I'm talking miracles.

This has nothing to do with morning sickness, trimesters or cravings -- but rather what to expect when you're expecting more from this life when times are troubling.

Take this moment. Think about a circumstance of which you feel is out of your control, a situation you have gotten yourself into that threatens to scar you for life or an illness a doctor tells you leaves you with only six months to live. Now breathe in a new frame of mind and exhale the overwhelming negativity this world engulfs you in on a daily basis. I hope what follows changes you, your mind and your life.

*****

Don't ever give up when life deals you a bad hand. There's always more than one way out. If you believe what everyone else is telling you is going to happen, you set yourself up to conform to the norm. Sometimes you may not be surrounded by the right crowd and their two cents may add up to nothing more than negativity and misery. Even pure reality gets in the way of hope, dreams and prayers. One of my favorite inspirational speakers/authors, Joyce Meyer, says it best: When you have a problem go to the THRONE not the PHONE.

While it's good to hear the advice of others or talk to someone who can relate to what you have endured, that shouldn't be your last stop in search of hope. It actually shouldn't be your first. Make daily pit stops with God. Check in. See if you're on the right path for that day. Speak aloud you're mess and await the Lord's message.

I have reached a point of maturity in my faith, where I can hear the voice of God. You've heard it too. But the key - is recognizing it. It sounds like my best friend's voice when she calls out of nowhere with encouraging words. How funny? How'd she know I needed that spiritual lift? It sounds like a voice on the television which seems to be talking to just me as I turn the channel at just the right time. It's an act of kindness from a complete stranger that looks at you like you've met before. Most typically, I hear the voice of God the clearest in complete silence.

It's time to break free from what's deemed the norm and patterns of this world and think positive beyond what your comfort zone allows. When you stay idle in life because you're afraid to take a leap of faith, you have fenced yourself in the ideals of this negative world. You stay still. You go nowhere.

The thought process of a realist is legit; conforming to all laws and rules. However, it's the life of a true believer that I want. I strive for. I know is possible. When I want something I get it and may I add - through the power of Christ.

When you're waiting for a miracle, sometimes it's hard not to give into the everyday realities and struggles of life reminding you, maybe you're in too deep. You've seen the results. You've read the statistics and you've heard history repeats itself. So why is your circumstance any different? Because quite simply -- you believe.

                               "We Walk By Faith, Not By Sight" 

                                                                                            2 Corinthians 5:7

The laws of gravity weigh us down. It's proven. If I let go of a glass vase it will fall apart and lay broken. But the laws of gravity must not hold us down. If I Let Go and Let God - my life will fall together.

When you roll out of bed mad at the day before it's begun, slapping the snooze button repeatedly and dreading the work or school day before your feet hit the ground -- I bet you're bound to stub your toe, spill your coffee and misplace your keys. 

Its the law of attraction. It's been said, what you think about you bring about. Your words are very powerful, so choose them wisely. A positive outlook on any situation in life gets you places beyond your highest expectations. My sister Monica, in her distinct and blunt way of saying things, reminded me in my weakness, "Remember you are a woman of God. When you wake up and your feet hit the ground you want the devil to say 'Oh Shhh! Crystal is awake!'" That's when you put the armor of God on.

        "Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour."

                                                                                      1 Peter 5:8

I by no means, am not saying I don't fall victim to my carnal flesh. The ideals of this world. The temptations lingering at every corner or the negativity that drowns the airwaves and workplace. I have bad days. I hear my own complaints roll off my tongue too easily. But as long as I recognize it, and put a stop to it before it materializes into something bad, I can move forward and renew my faith in that moment.

“Because of your little faith. For truly, I say to you, if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you.”
                                                                                                                    Matthew 17-20

In the Bible, Matthew takes record that Jesus was not the only one to walk on water. In Matthew 14:22-33 it says Jesus asked Peter to get out of the boat and walk to Him. Jesus said, “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”

Peter stepped out of the boat and walked toward Jesus. When he took his eyes off of Jesus and took notice of the terrible winds and waves he began to sink. He cried out to Jesus!

Immediately Jesus reached out and saved him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?

 *****

A plaque in my room reads, "When Life Gets to Hard to Stand...Kneel." I agree. I have learned that Jesus will save me when I cry out to Him, but I have also found the favor of the Lord at it's peak when I kneel down, give Him all the glory and thank Him instead of using Him as a backup plan. That's when I see God at His best. Replacing my mess-ups with miracles.

It's simply said, but it takes courage! So I hope you do not conform to the patterns of this world (Romans 12:2) or let gravity hold you down. I hope you step out of whatever boat is keeping you from the Lord and may you give birth to a new outlook and attitude on life when you're expecting -- your miracle.


"It's honest to God the most important song I’ve ever written in my life, and it has the fewest words..." John Mayer on his song Gravity

Goodbye

I've come to terms with the word "good-bye."

 
I've accepted that no matter what situation I'm in -- the separation anxiety may come, but I will not allow it to beat me. Most good-byes are temporary and those that seem final are bound to come full-circle at one point in your life or later. Whether it's dropping the kids off at school or seeing your loved one's name inscribed on a stone -- it's never final, just temporary.

 

If I only knew that when I was dealing with my first big bout with good-bye, I think my departure from family would have been less heartbreaking and scary when I left my hometown of El Paso to attend college at Texas Tech in Lubbock, Texas, some 10 years ago.

                                                               *  *  *  *  *

I couldn't believe I was actually going through with it. My dad closed the trunk to his car and finished loading my boyfriend's truck. I was off to Lubbock for college. What was I thinking? It was too late to turn back as we headed three hours into the road trip. Why didn't I just go to my hometown college UTEP? Ugh. My stomach was in knots and throughout the road trip my anxiety took front seat.

My parents, my boyfriend at the time and his father were dropping me off at my dorm room. The weekend flew by as they moved me in. My time with them was brief, and it was time to part. I didn't know anyone in town at that time, not even who my roommate was going to be. The four of us walked slowly up to the dorm building elevators. They walked me to my dorm room one last time. Every moment seemed too fast.

 

It was in that moment I thought my decision to leave home would surely consume me. I told my boyfriend's father goodbye first, then hugged my dad so tight and tried to hold in my tears while hiding my face in his shirt.

 

No one had ever left town for college in my family. We were all too close. Up until the moment I graduated my parents supported my decisions in high school. Once I told them I wanted to leave for college -- they didn’t seem thrilled. The local newspaper interviewed my mother with a headline that read "Leaving the Nest." The article revolved around teens of tight-knit Hispanic families who typically tended to stay close to the flock when it came to choosing a college. My mother was heartbroken, yet was quoted offering her support and trust in my decision to study elsewhere.  

During my final good-bye with my mother at my college dorm, I could see her lips quivering and tears rolling down her face. She hugged me so tight and kissed me on the cheek. She stepped back, looked at me and told me she was proud of me.

 

Why didn't I just go to UTEP?

 

I was the youngest of the six. Her baby was growing up too fast. They left me in the hallway to say bye to my boyfriend. How was a long distance relationship between us going to work? I hugged and kissed him goodbye.

 

As they all walked away, I lost it in the hallway. Why didn't I just go to UTEP? My mom came back out of the elevator to comfort me and for one last hug as if we would never see each other again. I closed the door to my dorm room. Stared out the window and watched them drive . . . home. I regretted my decision to leave town. That was and still is the hardest goodbye I have ever experienced. I have had my share of loss in my life in other ways but not by my choice. When it's your own decision to leave, doubt sets in.

 

"Thereafter, I became good at good-byes but that doesn't mean they ever truly left my heart feeling good. Leaving just got easier and more routine is all."

It was just a couple hours before I was getting ready to go live for a noon show at my first TV job in Amarillo. My phone rang. It was my sister. I'll call her later. I continued setting up my phone interviews when my cell phone rang again and again. It's my sister. This time my heart sank. I knew -- I just knew something was wrong.

 

After two strokes in three years, my grandma was in her last moments as the family slowly filed into the nursing home that day: whether it was leaving work early and trying to beat traffic or getting taken out of class early to give Grandma one last kiss. They were all there to say good-bye. I on-the-other-hand sat at my desk eight hours away from where she was in El Paso and stared at my phone.

 

I rushed to the airport and went through airport security a mess: mascara smeared from crying. I was worn out but still hopeful my flight was not going to be delayed one second. In a way, I was hoping to turn back the hands of time.

 

I sat staring at my carry-on. I couldn't even remember what I threw in it. I was waiting for my airplane to board. Getting frequent updates from my mother and brother letting me know how my grandma was doing. Although my brother stayed calm with me, I could hear it in his voice -- I wasn't going to make it home on time. He placed the phone against my grandma's ear. I closed my eyes, as tears rolled down my face forgetting I was amongst strangers. I told her how much I loved her. How much she meant to me. How much I wished I could be right there by here side. Her stroke compromised her ability to speak. I heard her try though. I heard her one last time. Then I said, "good-bye."

"I could hear it in his voice -- I wasn't going to make it home on time."

I sit here writing this at home in El Paso on my parent's computer. Finished with college, I'm back full circle. I'm living with my parents in the room I grew up, in the room I once cried to leave when I first went to college -- as I wait on where my career takes me next. But oddly, this typically loud and busy house is empty. Half of my siblings were relocated for their jobs within the last year. For those who have to be away from their kids, it's especially hard when your kids are too young to understand the concept of distance and time.

My point: whether it's by choice or out of your control, good-byes can build you or break you. If it's an airport that separates you, a break-up, the military, your job, divorce, custody or death -- good-byes are a consequence of your own decisions past and present or just a matter of time. They are inevitable, but some -- only temporary.

Potato, Patato y Papas

My mom pushed her grocery cart out of the bread aisle and toward the piles of produce.

She wasn’t there to take her time and look around or see what over-the-top dinner she could make that night. Rather, she was there with a short grocery list, where even the basics of her list were compromised. She needed just enough food to get her through the week. Calculating the total in her head each time she placed something in her cart and pushing that cart slower as she neared her $15 budget -- she remembered she needed one more thing: potatoes.

A sign above the sacks read “Buy one Bag get one FREE.”

She didn’t need that many potatoes. It wasn’t a big family gathering where her famous potato salad would be hunted down by cousins, uncles and aunts. She just needed enough to make caldillo for the week - enough to get by.

She was a smart shopper, a bargain finder and a strong Hispanic woman who could quite literally serve an army a memorable Mexican dish with the last three things in her fridge and cabinets.

She knew how to stretch a dollar and spend her time wisely. After all, she had six kids to feed and budgeting was her forte. But not one of us kids growing up recognized the struggle she endured in stretching the family dollar after my dad went on strike, when I was born. He worked odd-end jobs, blue-collar pay and graveyard shifts to put food on the table. For breakfast, lunch and dinner -- we ate like a traditional Mexican family would. From her famous huevos rancheros, bean burritos, chicken enchiladas, carne molida, chile rellanos and her own twist on sweat tea -- you'd never think we grew up poor.

It wasn't until I went to high school did I realize my parents gave us every last penny they worked tirelessly for. Whether it was for school lunch, extra-curricular activities or just to have fun with friends at the movies.

My mother is a woman of God, a soldier of love and a person who exudes pure peace and calm. She's in tune with her Holy Spirit, and is one who knows the power of unceasing prayer, petition and thanksgiving. Sometimes as a child, I wondered if she knew God personally - just like I believed she knew Santa when I was a kid.

Crystal's Corner: A Decade Later

It started in high school: I became a writer.

 

I received an opportunity as a columnist for my high school newspaper. My column, "Crystal's Corner," allowed me to express my views on a wide-range of topics that reflected my perspectives as an eager teenager and a very mature young woman.

 

My column brought my views to the table as they were published in the middle of an eight-page publication called, "The Observer."

 

The two-years I wrote this monthly column opened my eyes to more than my byline regularly appearing in the corner of the newspaper but something bigger: the power of self-expression.

A decade later, I still find myself coming up with witty headlines, meaningful topics and writing brief leads in my head -- thinking ‘Oh this would have made for a good topic in "Crystal's Corner."

 

A few local newspaper awards, national journalism competitions, a degree and a couple news gigs later -- I still hear that teenage voice in my head dissecting news topics and encouraging me to write about the biggest and smallest encounters I've experienced in everyday life.

 

Crystal’s Corner was named by my high school journalism teacher, Donna Griffin, and came to an end the month I got my diploma.

Oddly, before the days of social media, I had many followers and ’Likes’ from peers that looked forward to next month’s issue of "Crystal's Corner." I had emails from strangers around the community and even teachers who were inspired by words from a teen who thought she knew everything. It probably wasn’t the prom story they could relate to but the underlying message of gratitude most of my stories carried.

 

Not that my story on my grandmother’s life was so different from their grandparents- but instead helped them realize there's no time to take family for granted. Reading back on a few of my columns, I too was a little impressed at the level of maturity my words held then. Did I really know what I was talking about?

 

Today, I can say - perhaps I had a point. Self expression was the hand I was dealt as a stubborn, talkative and debatable child.

I wrote for a couple small newspapers during my college years. But as a general assignment reporter, there was nothing creative for me about following the “pyramid” pattern and covering the five W’s. My mind was stuck on writing articles that inspired, triggered emotion and gave readers topics they could personally relate to.

I lost hope as a column writer when I no longer was the editor-in-chief of my high school newspaper. I was just another one of the hundreds of college students in my classes trying to be the next successful journalist.

In journalism, they say one of the biggest responsibilities of a reporter is to allow the people in the community to be heard -- those who otherwise would not have a voice.

 

Well, as a column writer --I felt it was my responsibility to be heard and to somehow inspire and encourage those in the community to have a voice. I always had a “When-you-want-something-you-get-it” type of attitude growing up. Still do. Believe me it pays off. While it’s a common theme in many of my articles, it’s also one of those, “I-should-take-my-own-advice" type of situations. I found myself skimming through a shoe box off old columns thinking, "How ironic - if I only knew now what I thought then."

With the swift advances in today’s technology- everybody seems to be at the top of their game. We have more self-acclaimed rappers, singers, reality stars, directors and journalists -- all thanks to venues like YouTube, Facebook, Twitter and ahem…Blogger.com.

So, here I am, on this website, giving "Crystal's Corner" a makeover -- a new lifeline with the realization this elite group of bloggers has somehow found a way to evolve into a respectable source.

As of this moment, my future as a television journalist lies in the hands of news and sports directors around the nation, so while I’m in limbo in the comfort of my hometown where most of my memories lay in my parent's house -- I'm inspired to write again. It's that 16-year-old inside me, nagging and pressing me to share with you my thoughts, my experiences, my faith and my opinion on a variety of topics of today and yesterday. So get ready. "Crystal’s Corner" is back. Enjoy.