The Harvest Moon

 I saw the largest moon on Sunday evening. The largest I think since New Years Eve. It was a beautiful dusk sky, with hues of pink and purple, and a tint of summer's breath. I just wanted it to stay that way for a while. I was with my sister, shopping as she was briefly visiting dropping off Navidad, the beloved black cat. We had a fun and enjoyable time browsing the store together, shopping for needed items and putting it into our carts.

 I have an easy time looking back, especially on a year ago. So much was changing around me, within me, it was a lot. Most days I felt like I couldn't handle it, carry this heavy and unique cross. I remember coming to the same store my sister and I went to after work one October day. Shopping for some needed things, a few fun items (like a Freida Kalho shirt). I felt a sense of missing, missing something, and missing someone, my sister. Who doesn't love shopping with their sister, with a girlfriend? Shopping alone is good too, but it always seems so much more fun and special to shop with a sister, one who knows your style, you know theirs and the light heartedness of sharing ideas and opinions about shoes, clothes, etc..

I know that I've grown a lot since then, I've also learned more about myself. I had my sister with me on Sunday, and it didn't feel so much of 'I don't want you to leave, I wish you could stay, I miss the old times' type thinking. It was very much just embracing the present moment together, appreciating and loving her presence since it is such a gift. 

I could recall even in February that we also went shopping on a evening week night. That was special, since I typically don't go to stores/shop on those days, but what more fun with a sister! But I felt such a longing for more in my schedule, in my life. Distant learning was burning me out and I felt so alone, isolated most of the time. My sister had a nice break in February for 'ski week' so she could visit for a bit. Although my schedule hadn't changed, we still made some quality time together. But it brought with it so many memories of our times together, her memories and ours, when she was living at home, just so much. It was hard not to notice the nostalgia and sadness creeping in, difficult to shake off. 

But on Sunday, I didn't feel like that. I felt more sturdy and stable in my own two feet where I am, and doing what I'm doing. It's not perfect or easy all the time, but its improved a lot in my attitude, thinking, gratitude and what I focus on. So far, nothing compares to the rawness and deep challenges of last year.

Picture I took a few years ago

That harvest moon, its brightness, depth and glow reminded me of an evening where I took a run in the dusk time, right before the Fall equinox a few years ago. (There's a Chinese celebration based off the harvest moon, and awaiting the change of season due to the size of the moon). 

That moment brought wonder, appreciation, and beauty. Just like my time with my sister on Sunday evening, the moon we saw portrayed its abundance, its fullness. I felt an abundance of gratitude, as well as beauty, awe being with my sister and looking up at the harvest moon.

Jumping Head First into Junior Year

 Junior year of High School was my hardest year academically as well as mentally and emotionally. It was the year that my classes became more rigorous with U.S. History, Chemistry, Ceramics (it was an elective, but it was a painful class for me, more on that later). It was the year of a lot of change and adjustments, the most I had ever experienced with three of my older sisters moving away after having them at home for summer and the prior semester. I got my own room, the room that all my sisters had lived in before me (I'm currently still living in this room:)) and shared the rest of my high school experience with my younger brother which dare I say, were awkward, frustrating, interesting and hard to navigate most of the time. 

It was my first year without basketball. I had played it for eight consecutive years, one of them being on the JV team and I decided and knew I couldn't do another year. Susie entered her first year of College and I stepped up to President for the Students for Life Club. Some of the hard work and logistics were already determined like who would enter into the other positions of Vice President, Treasure. My sister Susie and I debriefed the planning for the months ahead for the school year during summer vacation on a family camping trip, and we already elected the VP and Treasurer for the club. But things didn't turn out so smoothly as I had anticipated or hoped. 

Family camping trip

Like I wrote, my three older sisters had all previously lived at home for some time, and I had gotten used to their presence, especially Susie and I since we had shared rooms, and been together for two years of High school. I remember how difficult it was to see them all go their sperate ways, lives and adventures. Susie and Meghan moved out for College, starting and finishing their college experience and years. And dear Elisabeth was moving to Italy for study abroad for 9 months! How much further she would be away from home. It was the first time ever it was just me and younger brother Steven at home together, with no older siblings above us. It was a year of trial and suffering, challenges that gave me a lot of growth. 

I can still remember my schedule, the teachers and environment of each class. I started the morning early with History, the same teacher Susie had her Junior year. I had already heard a lot about him, his quirks, loud and energetic music in the morning and his jokes, usually borderline suggestive and inappropriate. In all, he kept things interesting and lively. But it wasn't my favorite subject or class. I didn't sense that I was fully grasping the material all the time and I remember if we worked in groups for some assignments, I didn't really connect or have friendships with my other classmates. I vividly remember daydreaming one morning while my teacher was giving a lecture early on in the year about the Gilded Age and some Progressive movements and in my head I was only thinking about after school and looking forward to watch 'Anne of Green Gables'! Haha

I always dreaded the next class, Ceramics. It was certainly, most probably my least favorite class that year. I thought since it was an Art class, I would be good at it, since I'm a creative person. It was quite the contrary, because it wasn't the Art class I was used to. I immediately felt intimated by it. The first thing we learned was the wheel. It's a tool to spin clay on and then form, shape and sculpt it into something small like a cup, or a mug. There's a pedal on the bottom, and as you press pedal the clay spins faster. You can add some drops of water to add moisture and certain hand techniques to structure it.

One of the things I made, a pumpkin:)

Our teacher made the demos look so simple, easy and fun. Whenever I tried it, I felt like I had immediately failed. What didn't help was seeing other classmates succeed and make their sculptures on the wheel look almost as good as the teacher. So for the rest of the classes, I decided I could only really make something if I just used my own two hands and not on the wheel that I was conditioned to be afraid and intimated by. I only made a few things that year, and had 1 or 2 people to talk to as we made our sculptures. I didn't feel like I fit in, that I was good or talented like others were, and never felt seen or complimented by my teacher. It was a lot, it was hard. Every time I came out of that class, I always had clay residue sticking to my clothes for the rest of the day. 

The next class was fun and light, Foods. Funny enough, I was initially in the same class as my younger brother and to be honest, he acted like he didn't even know who I was! He made it obvious that he didn't want to talk to me. (Freshman can be so awkward, let alone High school boys!) But that schedule didn't last for long since I had to retake a semester of Bio since I got a 'D' my first semester of Biology sophomore year. It was actually better than I thought it would be. I had a different teacher than the year prior, and I understood the material a lot better! Though I was mostly with Freshman, there were a small minority of Juniors like me. It built my self esteem receiving a 'B' to replace my shrinking 'D'. I was able to return to the Foods class the next semester and overall that was fine.

4th Period was my favorite class and teacher, surprisingly it was Math, but I came to enjoy it. Math was never my strong suit but with a good teacher, I knew I could do well. This was my best Math class because the teacher was passionate about the subject, well organized, engaging, funny, and personable. She knew how to interact with the students, yet also showcase authority. It was predictable with daily warm ups, weekly quizzes as well as fun with little games and extra points, and watching her favorite Math show on rare Fridays, 'Numbers'. I liked her confidence and how she carried herself. I remembered she treated everyone equal, was respectful, funny and energetic. She was super fit and loved running and athletics and was the Poll Vaulting coach. She would be the teacher I would ask to hand me my diploma at my High school graduation. 

When I was in that class, I often thought of my dear sister who was in Italy since my Math teacher was originally Italian and knew the language. She would always joke of her name, specifically her last name and how long or Italian it sounded to when she married her husband, her last name became just, 'Banks' joking the shortness and simplicity of her husband's 'white' name. I became more confident with the material and enjoyed it. I liked to share it with others, so I would often teach my mom the things I was learning!

Showing my older brother Matthew some of the things in Math (he was visiting and took the bus home with me that day)

My friend group expanded more from Sophomore year and the excluded spot I found originally also became a favorite. It was relaxing and scenic looking out to the baseball field.  The group usually included Katie, Christine, Natalie, Mohini, and Emily. I was grateful to have at least two of them support and go to the club I was leading and attend all the meetings. 

The last two classes were English and Chemistry, also low favorites in teachers. I didn't prefer English due to my classmates who I didn't really have any connections or just the regular bunch of annoying students. The books we read were okay, but I didn't feel that any of them really came alive for me. And the teacher didn't really teach, just read all the books to us since no one else would volunteer. She was a hard grader I remember and barely ever gave A's on essays. 

And Chemistry wasn't much better. He was a new teacher an also the girl's soccer coach. He was friendly enough but didn't have the experience in classroom management or thorough teaching. Though it was a hard and confusing class, I didn't feel too bad since I knew I wasn't the only one who was lost. There was a student who taught the class better than the teacher and made understanding the periodic table not like rocket science. The labs were hard and annoying, but at least I could figure out with others who were just as unsure. During that time I always thought I could write a story about that interesting class, the teacher, the different energies of the students (10th, 11th and 12th graders). 

A good chunk of the school year I felt sad and melancholy for a variety of reasons. Firstly, the Students for Life Club was a big weight on my shoulders and I felt lime I was doing it alone. The selected VP who was a Senior was not very reliable for me or all that present, and it was hard to delegate. One of my friends who was the selected treasurer the first few weeks of school told me she changed her mind about the issue of Pro-Life and felt that she was actually Pro-Choice so she could no longer be part of the position or club. I felt devastated but didn't know how to navigate or try to talk to her more about it. I just let it go, and the topic was never mentioned. But I wish I had confronted it with her, and learn more about her change of views. To put the cherry on top, the teacher I had asked to be the liaison for the club (and who I knew from Middle School) also declined and drastically changed her mind about being the club advisor after saying yes. I received her change of answer in my Math class with a note sent to me. I felt like everything was falling to pieces. I somehow made it through the school year and pulled through!

The Yearbook picture for the Students for Life Club

Secondly, I really missed my sister Elisabeth who was away in Pavia, Italy. I would think of her a lot, counting 9 hours ahead, and overall just miss having a sister at home to lean on and turn to. That year, I started to pray on my own and get more into personal prayer. I remember towards the end of the school year, I just felt an inspiration, an inclination to write down all my thoughts and prayers down, talking to God about my day. I wrote down feelings I had about my 'secret' crush, and just the demands of classes, my friend situations and home life. 

 I got more into writing was writing letters to my older brother, Matthew. It was a fun process of writing and receiving letters! I felt like I could express myself, tell him about my classes, things happening at home and school. I even told about my crush and asked him what to do, getting a guy's perspective on it. It was also cool to read about his life, his days and what he was up to. We would connect on books, music and he would take a genuine interest in my high school life. I remember feeling proud about my math class and sharing what I was learning and how I was doing in that class with him. 

Throughout high school I would sometime have subtle or strong stomach pains. They would make me feel bloated and in pain, like I just wanted to lie down. This happened more so through Junior and Senior year, and it started to become an embarrassment since it seemed like I was still digesting food, but I really wasn't. I was usually full of discomfort and always wondered what was it that I ate that made me experience this.  

I went to dances with my friend group like homecoming and Junior Prom! I wore a more expensed dress for Homecoming - a Cobalt blue, so for Prom I didn't spend any money, I wore the bridesmaid dress from my Mom's wedding, just like my sister Elisabeth did. It was a fun, flowy style, a mid blue color that depicted the '70's. But I loved that no one would have my dress, and in some ways I would stand out. Junior Prom was okay. It was a nice venue and fancy food, but I felt like something was missing. I liked to dance and didn't mind being the first on the dance floor, but I felt my friends couldn't join me in the same way. I remember feeling very disappointed in one of my friends in the way that she danced with a guy. I felt betrayed since I knew she knew better than that, and it made me feel uncomfortable. 

Some fun things outside of school included visiting my grandparents with a few of my siblings and parents that September 2009. Camp every summer was a planning adventure throughout the school year and connecting with my camp counselor friends was always a joy. Writing like I mentioned was becoming more of a regular thing with my brother, as well as keeping in touch with Elisabeth in Italy! I adored receiving letters in the mail from her, and how artistically she decorated the cards was also fun and special to see. Hearing about her classes and her adventure in traveling, cooking and eating Gelato and other delicious food, as well as sharing some Italian language. 

I tried to keep up with running and exercise since I wasn't in a PE class nor was I playing basketball. I got more into running and made my 'running route' and loved running while listening to some of my favorite tunes, especially in the rain! This would transition into my Senior year as well. Junior year taught me a lot, and I was forced and encouraged to rely on my faith, and my inner strength a lot of the time. Though Senior year had its challenges, it definitely prepared me and made me a stronger person, creating that foundation. 

An Honorable Remembrance

Yesterday was the 20 year anniversary of the terrorist attacks on 9/11. I was really young when that horrible, traumatic and deeply sad events of innocent lives destroyed occurred. Third grade to be exact. And over the years while being a student and growing up, we always recalled in memory and with sadness this day, since all my classmates in middle school and high school were alive just like me when that horrendous day took place at the Twin Towers, the Pentagon, and crashing into the plains of Pennsylvania. I didn't even know or understand all the details, and especially being so young I couldn't really wrap my brain around it all. 

I remember vividly watching the TV with my mom after school on that day in 2001 and seeing the two plains crash into the Twin Towers and seeing them collapse with all the dust, cement, rubble crumbling like a big earthquake. I remember seeing a lady pour water over herself as she was drenched in smoke, debris, and cement remains. It was sad to see, trying to understand as a 9 year old. 

I can't even think about all those lives lost just from the crumbling, floor by floor of those towers, those innocent lives lost just from others not able to find their remains amidst the dust, and the crashing, burning, and deteriorating of the iconic sky scrapers. I thought about the passengers on the plane who had no idea what was coming. The excruciating terror on their lives, ending so quickly with not even able to arrive safely at their destination. A phone call perhaps to tell their loved ones goodbye. 

I can't think of it all and make sense of the pain that others have endured these past two decades. The reality of it all has certainly hit home for me more than it has before. It makes my heart sink and ache into sorrow and tears well up in my eyes, thinking of all those lives taken abruptly, ripped from this earth, yet telling a story so strong of their witness in this tragic terrorist attack. 

I had tears in my eyes yesterday as I hugged my sister so tightly after she asked me to be the godparent/godmother of her baby boy due in February. The card she wrote was so touching, and joyful. And to think of this new life, this little baby growing and developing in her womb is so miraculous, beautiful and exciting! 

I think about this new life on the day when nearly 3,000 lost their lives in 9/11. I thought about being with my sister, and hug her close was such a gift as so many others 20 years ago did not have the chance, the privilege, or the gift in doing so as their loved ones passed away. It makes me truly filled with gratitude for life, for the simple things and God's mysterious ways, God's gifts and His enduring presence. How truly blessed I am.

A Picture of My Grandparents

 Today marks the 73rd wedding anniversary of my Grandma and Grandpa, my Dad's parents. I've been thinking about them more recently. It was my dear sister who became curious and came up with the good idea to learn more about our Grandma whom we had never met or grown up with. She researched more about her life, her family and relatives through relatives of our own, our Dad's cousins and our Uncle who has a lot of information on genealogy. 

I got to know more about her too when my sister would share and tell me things, or forward emails to the family about another interesting response from a relative detailing Grandma's life before she was married or after when 3 young boys to take care of. It was just a few weeks ago that we visited their gravesite again in Santa Clara while we had some excursions in San Jose where my Dad's childhood home is. There just seemed to be so much history in these places, lineage and memories that my Dad, my Uncle and relatives remember and lived through. Being a student at SJSU for my Masters in Library Science is another connection to them and the city where my Dad grew up and where they lived for a number of years.

This genealogy process that my sister was gaining more information on inspired me to create some sort of story. I enjoy the creative process and feel that I more of a fiction writer embedding some real events in different pockets, letting the real and imaginary ooze out together. I've written down some notes regarding facts, places, genealogy and such but haven't come up with anything yet. 

I also am thinking about Grandma and Grandpa as of recent because of their story. They both married later in life (late in those days). My Grandma got married at 30 and my Grandpa was 35 or 36. My Grandma's 2 other siblings were already married with children before she met and married. I think about those details, and I can relate in my own way. I have 2 siblings who both recently got engaged and will have weddings next year! It's exciting, joyful but I can relate in a special and intimate way with Grandma when you're unsure and it can be hard not knowing your own vocation story to marriage when things are happening all around you. 

I recall seeing the wedding picture of my parents, with my Dad's two brothers and his parents. I noticed that Grandma's hand looked as if it were clutching my Dad's oldest brother, Uncle Mike's hand, almost as if she knew was he was perhaps feeling in that moment. He was not married yet, not dating but his youngest brother had just gotten married and my other Uncle was already a Marianist brother. I could sense my Grandma was empathizing with the reality of siblings' lives changing before your own. That really stuck with me. 

I have her wedding band ring and it actually fits. I think of this as a symbol of her presence, her story. I've had it ever since one of my older sisters was getting engaged 9 years ago and she gave me Grandma's band. My mom recently showed me Grandma's engagement ring since I and never seen it before. It was so beautiful with a lovely diamond not too big or small, but the size of the ring looked petite. So special to see these heirlooms!

Sometimes I think that Grandma is calling me to write a story, her story. To use what I have and detail something creative, unique, personal in a way to honor and remember Grandma and Grandpa. I do have quite a few memories of Grandpa since I was around 6, 7, and 8 and we would visit him often and go out to eat at his favorite restaurants with all of us. Maybe I put too much pressure on myself to write something 'good', but all I want to do is tell a story in my own way. 

I love this time of the year, this time of September! And I can see why they chose this date all those many decades ago. I keep them both in my heart and  mind today, and know that they are with me, interceding for me, and holding my hand like loving Grandparents do. 

Time for Something

 I think about this a lot-how I can use my time well at work when I am not busy. There are moments throughout the days that its slow for me, I don't have much to do, there are no students who need help and I'm left to myself of how to make the remaining time go by quickly enough but also somewhat productive, (or at least look like it)! 

Of course like anyone, I like and enjoy to be busy and productive at my job. For some even, it could instill some anxiety if they are not presented with any alternatives to keep them busy and useful. I don't get anxious luckily, but I do try and think of how I can make the situation a bit more enjoyable, better if possible. I've even tried to help students who have no work to do and are just staring into space or at their phones and who look so bored. I've given them some alternatives to help them use their open time a bit better.

 The first week of school felt like we were playing games all week in 1 or 2 of the classes where they have time for homework. I had ideas to play hang man on the white board or Scattergories and another student introduced me to an online Pictionary game. I could tell overall the students enjoyed it. It made the time go by faster and they were a bit entertained interacting with some of their peers. Now that school has progressed a bit, some of the students have more work to do, but others have the same issue with too much open time. I often think of how much could be done with this open time, one could learn a language, read a book, write a story, draw, learn more about a subject.. the possibilities are endless! But these students may not think of it the same way I do. I told them if I were them, I would bring a book or something else to do if I had so much open time. Or else, its going to be a loooong school year. 

I think about this topic of time and usefulness because it has to do with one of my favorite authors and books- Immacule Illibagiza who wrote her incredible survival story from the Rwandan Genocide titled Left to Tell. She survived by being locked up in a cramped bathroom with a few other women in a Pastor's home who was hiding these women. In her book, she wrote many times about using the open hours and days of sitting uncomfortably and very fearfully, not knowing the outcome of the war and when and if she would be found out and die full of prayer and conversations with God, praying the Rosary. She even had a vision to study the English language and was able to get some resources to learn while in the small bathroom for roughly 3 months. She is such an inspiring and empowering faith-filled women, I never get bored of reading her books. 

I also think about a great saint I admire, St. Josemaria who was so resourceful and sensitive in using our time well for God's glory. I read it in one of the books about him how during the Spanish civil war they were cooped up in a room sharing with a few of the other men, and St. Josemaria advised them all to use the long, open days with a set schedule and also for each of them to learn a language so they could spread the spirit of Opus Dei to other people and areas. I was reminded of these details in a blog post I recently read from a lovely blogger who I sometimes follow. She is so inspirational, faith-filled and joyful and she too mentioned during the beginning of the Pandemic that she was going to structure her days and have a set schedule. 

I use these examples as reminders for myself. I don't have as much free time as I once had in the summer or even last Fall. And I can say there are pros and cons with both, and there definitely is a sweet spot in the middle and learning how to balance it all. But like I mentioned above, there are days and hours throughout the week at work where I'm left to get creative and innovative once again! Sometimes acronyms help, like if I'm in a building with a certain letter, I've been trying to think and pray to saints whose names start with that letter! Something so simple, but can be helpful and powerful. I'm noticing its the little things that count and can help make the routine or open time more like a form of prayer rather than an inconvenience or an annoyance. 

Happy Labor Day weekend!!

Flowers from garden in SF last wknd:)