Friday, 18th o June 1999
Olaia happily in her bouncer seat |
Where in the world is Jim, you ask. Well, I haven't moved very far since I wrote last. We're here in our house in Guaynabo, PR. However, there has been much that has changed apart from our location. With the birth of Olaia (which seemed like just yesterday) we've been very occupied (as you can imagine). I have some idea now how people have children and just drop off the face of the planet. It's not that they are so time consuming, or that you just don't have time for anything else... it's that most other things don't matter as much anymore. It's probably bad, I know, but with that little person there, you just feel so complete, like all the things and people in your life that are so far away are that much further. That of course is not a testament to you all meaning less to us, but you know, how are you going to compete with such cuteness when it's right here (wink). Here's to Olaia, telling us to stop kissing her, hugging her, and making fools out of ourselves and get a life. Hehe.
She's "chub-a-liscious"
Heather and Olaia Everybody came down for the baptism |
My family came down for Olaia's baptism. She was christened at out local parish called Maria Madre de Nuestro Señor (Mary, Mother of Our God). The priest is such a darling cute man. He's got this demeanor that is just so squeezable. You know what, I'm not usually this cute... it's just that I'm in one of these moods where everything is just so so so... cute and cuddly. Maybe it's because Olaia just dumped a wastecan of paper on herself and proceeded to dive in and stuff her mouth full. I snapped a picture, so stay tuned. Where was I? Oh yeah, our Priest. He gives very wonderful sermons. Unlike many priests in Puerto Rico who seem to be still stuck in the old world of pontification and the sound of their own voices, this one is clever, thoughtful, peaceful, and challenging. He takes much to heart the role of servant of the church and not owner. We like him a lot. He doesn't speak any English, but he was so cute with my family during the baptism mass with the congregation, mentioning them and Olaia throughout, speaking to them and just being so darling... okay I'll stop that, okay.
O'Malley's at the airport |
From the onset of planning Olaia's baptism, I had complained to Laura that I was concerned about gifts that would be given her. I just felt that there was too much showering of gifts during these events, and that I wanted more than anything for people to relax and not be rushing around buying gifts. Laura, bless her smart mind, came up with a brilliant plan. Why don't we, as a symbol of Olaia's entrance into her Christian faith, start a fund for some local needy family in her name and let people give gifts to that. Wow, that's brilliant, and we were off to the races with that idea. As the day approached we finally found a worthy charity case, a shelter for abandoned children that was asking for extra diapers and wet wipes. How basic can you get. Both of us were moved to tears at the idea of Olaia rushing to the aid of her peers. Thanks to our little generous daughter who gave up all those goodies at her baptism, little babies will sleep better and more comfortable at night. Our generous families came through with $600. I can't tell you how happy that made me fell. I'm still flying. No amount of baby clothes and toys could have made us feel so wonderful.
 Fambly at baptism |
The interesting thing through all this was that the idea was hatched in our darkest hour. Money was dwindling fast. We hadn't come through with any clients in the past month, we had a mortgage to pay, a car loan, utilities, and food. Things were bleak. For some reason, both of us found solace in thinking of someone to help through Olaia. While Olaia didn't have a crib, we were thinking of giving someone else one. Before our own needs were met we were thinking of ways to meet the needs of others. This leap that we took as a family, I firmly believe is what carried through that difficult time, gave us perspective, and drew us closer as a family. Now there is this peace that God does indeed provide. Both our parents during the past week gave us as a gift of a kitchen table set. You know, looking after one another is probably the most fun and rewarding thing that we can do. If we all did that on a personal level, there would be so little want in the world.
In other news, I've taken a full time job. I got this call from a company called Watson Wyatt Worldwide, and actuarial firm, to be the regional MIS for Latin America. I had interviewed with them a year ago and didn't get the job. That of course was just as well, because we then started our computer consulting business called OG Consulting. At first I declined saying that I had to concentrate on our business that I had clients that depended on me for support. I asked the position's salary, and when she told me I became interested. I told her I'd think about it, but that I'd also like to talk about the position with her face to face. At that meeting, I mentioned that I'd still like to be able to give support to my clients. She said oh no, Watson Wyatt does not let its consultants do any outside consulting. An aside: I'm sure this has to with actuaries cutting side deals with Watson Wyatt clients, in theory stealing money away from the company... which would not include me since, I am only internal MIS support. I didn't argue (quietly thinking to myself there's no way they can police my weekends). Anyway, I then told her that I wouldn't be interested if I couldn't keep my consulting business on the back burner. She quickly upped the salary again and I begrudgingly agreed. I just finished my first week there and all is going well, though I must say that they are in a helluva situation with their computer infrastructure... what a kludge. Geez, I'm surprised they don't have bubblegum holding it all together.
Friday, 26th o February 1999
How do you judge the value of a salmon steak. Take the person who buys it. Without the money for having bought that salmon steak it wouldn't be a reality. It would never arrive to the hands of the seasoner. Sprinkle lemon, a little cilantro. Sprinkle precious drops of olive oil. Rub it into the pink meat. Let it set. So without those who would season the meat, there would be no great salmon steak. You have to give those seasoners credit. Let's pass that filet to the grill. Without the griller, the right temperature, a few smoldering briquettes for smoky flavor. Watch that meat, it only takes five minutes to cook a piece of fish to perfection. Too hot, it's blackened... too cool and you risk it falling apart. Pass that fish to the serving plate. They eat it, exclaiming, "Wow, that was the most wonderful salmon I've ever eaten. My hat is off to you chef."
"Ah, but," he replies, "I couldn't have done it without the seasoner. That salmon was only as good as the seasoner. Seasoner, my hat is off to you."
She smiles politely, "Very well, but without the buyer, I wouldn't have had anything. Without that great delicacy to start with, I wouldn't have anything to season."
"Thank you, but my part is a small one." says the buyer.
It was a fine salmon and all are in accord. They had made a fine meal and it was a team effort.
And then my mind drifts off to the salmon waters of the North Pacific. I see a great strength darting through the cold ocean waters. Is this greatness a gift of the buyers, seasoners, and grillers? I think this as I imagine its life, and I see that the grand beast was magnificent.
Wednesday, 13th o January 1999
Olaia peeking out from behind her little bear
Here's a quick run down on what's happened in our lives in the last month or so. We own a house now. We can't move in yet though, because the woman who's in it can't move, because the apartment she bought still has the previous owner in it. Jeesh, it's like one big slow moving chain. Get out of our house!!! Anyway, yesterday we bought a couch, a love seat, and a futon. Today we're buying a mattress. With that we'll be able to live for a while in the house as we collect and/or build our other things.
Tuesday, 29th o December 1998
Yaaaawn such a big little girl |
Olaia has been growing with us for the past 11 months now. For the first 9, she was an abstraction, something we were anticipating but had no idea what to really expect. How would she change our lives? What would she be like? I've been doing some video editing of her to send to our families and after watching her (both in person and on film) over and over, I find that I have some strange feelings, feelings that I didn't expect and maybe don't quite understand yet. I look at her there. In one scene she's in her bouncer seat, (thanks Leila) and I feel like it's the first object in her life that she can interact with, as in touch, and manipulate. I watch her struggling with the little spinners and gadgets that make up the play bar in front of her. She now reaches out and hits what she's looking at. Sometimes she's not successful, but she's getting better. Today, however, she got her hand caught under the bar and rather than put her arm down and withdraw it, she tried to raise it against the bar. Obviously she felt that this thing had stolen her hand and that she was stuck. Daddy was right there and as she started to cry for help, he was there to gently pull her away from the entrapping device. Ahh, I don't know what I would have done without you, daddy.
Olaia the bubble girl |
It was then that I had this overwhelming sense of, I don't know quite how to say it, protection? of needing to help her, of wanting something. I can't explain it. There she was this little girl, so helpless, so dependent on her parents, trying to reach out and really trying, but having trouble. There was this melancholy, this regret that she would suffer failure at some time in her life. She's going to have hard days ahead and even though daddy will be around (I hope so anyway), I can't help but feel worry, angst, and well, my heart just goes out to her. I watch her on her tummy trying to lift her head, she does it for a few minutes but after that she gets tired and ends up face down on the mattress. Poor thing. She does so well, but then she can't, and she kind of panics (because she can't figure out why she can't lift her head and why she's face down), and daddy helps her out. Ahhh, much better. She just has such an earnest look on her face, like she's really really trying and just can't do it. I don't know why, but it breaks my heart.
I wonder if we ever figure out how to succeed here in this life. Life is just one big confusing trial after another. There's childhood where everything is so new and you're so dependent. There's adolescence where suddenly when you thought you were getting the hang of things, the rules change. You turn 18, graduate from high school thinking you know everything, and bam, college is another blow to your mastery of the universe. You follow on, conquering challenges (because your parents taught you well), and again you find yourself graduating and being as lost as you were as a newborn. What do I do with the rest of my life? Have I made right choices? Why are these things such surprises to us and why do we place our hopes in our experiences that flee us at such regular intervals?
There are lots of places where we trip and wish there were someone who knew it all to help us out. What's the big picture? Do we spend all our lives gathering consciousness only to in the end fall short of complete awareness. At seventy we still get our hands stuck under symbolic bars and instead of having awareness of what to do, we yank and pull and scream and cry, not getting it and not really having learned the smallest lessons, the ones that release us from a prison where we are just children crying out for our daddies, so helpless and alone.
I have to say that all these things go through my head as I watch Olaia struggle with awareness and I am reminded our own struggles. They are no different and she is just at the beginning of a long and complicated road. I wish I could take it all away just make it all simple. I'll do my best, but I know I can't do it all, and I know that some day she's going to have to figure out that bar herself.
Now, lest you think I'm being all melodramatic and fatalistic, I know life is a wonderful gift, but I just can't help but wish we could transcend our human frailties, our inability to "get" certain things. There are math problems that just perplex me and that bugs me. I can feel sometimes the limits of my brain, the places were my consciousness fails to penetrate. I know where they are and that bugs me. There are certain things that I just don't get. Certainly we all have our blind spots, but wouldn't it be nice to find a way just clean them out and illuminate and move beyond our sticking points?
I just love that little girl so much it would be a wonderful gift indeed to bestow upon her a calming awareness that it'll turn out all right, a peaceful mastery of her surroundings, and a tranquillity that will never allow her to be caught below another bar.
Monday, 28th o December 1998
I forgot to let everyone know that our home loan was approved and we will be (God willing) signing the final papers on the 30th. Hey! that's tomorrow. We'll be moving in on the 15th of January. We won't be able to get the previous owner out until then. She'll be paying us rent for those two weeks, but we can't get her out. Darn.