You could never tell what Andrew was going to look like from one time to the next. This was my favorite hair color and style on him.

HAPPY 4th of JULY!

*Check out that "Kid n Play" hair!

I always loved this picture. Very "James Dean" like...



Andrew would have been 16 years old in this photo. He had just gotten his driver's license in time for the homecoming dance and was all dressed up and ready to go.

I intended to have this up by Father's Day but didn't make it. This photo was taken in about 1983 or 84. We were out at my mother in laws farm in Los Lunas, NM. Andrew loved it there. Jump over to my art blog to see a painting I did of this photo a couple of years later.

Now I'm no photographer but every now and then I can take a pretty good picture. Of all the photo's I've taken this has to be my absolute favorite.
This was taken of Andrew when he was about four years old. We were at his grandmother's place in Los Lunas, New Mexico. By the way. the adobe wall you see in that background was made by Andrew's Grandma Nini - adobes and construction.

When Andrew lived in St. Louis he was a base guitarist for a wicked little punk rock band called "This Strange Device". They played a few local clubs and eventually had the opportunity to open for The Urge. This gave them the opportunity to play for a couple of thousand people. Things didn't go as well as they had expected and they weren't well received.

Now this isn't my generations music so whether it was good or bad, I couldn't say. But what I can tell you is that he had the time of his life. Prior to the performance the band had set up a website and the majority of hits to the website came from girlfriends and family members. Andrew called me the next day after the concert. He was so excited about all the hits to their website that came in after the concert. I laughed and laughed as he proudly read me each of the comments. Comments like "You guys suck" - "You guys ought to die" - "Worst band I ever heard" and on and on.

He was so happy and I said something about the negative feedback and he said it didn't matter to him. What mattered to him was that those people took the time to locate the website and leave a comment.

That was Andrew...that was Paco. It was all good. Even when it was bad it was all good.

This photo of Andrew and Jamie was taken in June of 2005.

Yesterday Jamie emailed me and said she was having a very hard time. She said that she couldn't understand why God gave her someone so perfect for her and then took him away.

Missing him does seem to get any easier. I wonder if it ever will.

I dreamt about Andrew last night.

When Andrew first passed away I would beg God every night to let me dream about him but I never did.

Then as a little time passed I would wake up with a feeling that he had been in a dream but I couldn’t remember. I would just wake up with a strange feeling that was heavy with his presence so I knew he was there I just couldn’t give you any details.

One time I did remember seeing him in the background moving equipment like an extra in a movie.

But it has never been in my nature to dream about people I know. When I first moved to my present home I would dream almost every night that my former husband had come and taken me home. These dreams were distressing and constant for about a month or so. But mostly I seldom dream about anyone I know.

Now I don’t mean to step on any toes here but I don’t believe in ghosts. Well I guess I need to clarify that. I specifically don’t believe that my dead uncle gets to come back from the other side and visit or play trick on me by moving my deodorant. I don’t think my dead grandma turns on lights and my dead dog doesn’t push the screen door open with his nose. Do those things sometimes happen, yes, is it anyone I know, no it isn’t. And trust me; I’m practically an expert on things that go bump in the night.

So I don’t believe my son will ever visit me in my dreams. But I do believe that my mind will visit him in my dreams and possibly on a very special and rare occasion God may send me a dream about my son.

Last night he showed up in a dream. Possibly because I have begun to work out a painting I want to do of him, but for what ever reason, he was there. And this time I asked him if he knew he had a bad asthma attack and he said yes. Then I asked him if he knew he had passed on and he looked so sad. He didn’t answer me. Then, in my dream, I told myself to gaze on his face because I knew I hadn’t seen it in a while and that this was a rare opportunity just to look at him again.

And that was that. The next thing I knew I was trying to catch a shuttle with too many packages and ended up losing my purse. Actually I had a purse but it wasn’t mine and my keys were in my purse which was apparently gone…..

Such are dreams…..

You remember that precious little baby boy I've been showing you pictures of? Well this is what happens when they grow up and leave home and you can't make them get a haircut.

Andrew was about 21 or 22 years old in this photo.

But that gorgeous smile was always the same.

My very first Mother's Day - 1981

This was my very first Mother's Day in which I was the mother. Andrew was nine months old and it was Dedication Sunday at our church, Del Norte Baptist Church in Albuquerque, NM.

For those of you unfamiliar with "Dedication Days" unlike Catholics who baptist infants we dedicate them to the Lord and make a promise to raise them with the knowledge of what God, through his son Jesus Christ, did for each one of us. Then when the child is old enough to make a decision on their own they can choose to be baptised.

I had made Andrew's outfit. Those who know me could tell you what a miracle that was because I don't sew. It was a precious powder blue with the sweetest Peter Rabbit buttons. I still have it....

I remember that Sunday service so well. His father had to work and could not attend but my grandmother, Nonnie, sat beaming from "her pew" (it's a Baptist thing) and I stood before the congregation and promised God that I would raise him in the love and fear of the Lord...and I did.

When Andrew was 10 years old he had his first seizure related to his asthma. We almost lost him that night. Shortly after that he came to me and asked to be Baptised. He made a very mature decision for such a little man based on his understanding of the seriousness of his illness and his comprehension of what it meant to believe...

On this Mother's Day some have tip-toed around me for fear of upsetting me. Yes, this is a tough day for me but...I am still his mother. That will never stop..ever.

And I am the most blessed woman in the world to be his mother for 26 years here on earth and for all eternity.

Bass Pro Museum in Springfield, Missouri 2000
Andrew being the joker he always was.

Here he is in his blue footie pajamas holding a rag doll I made. This would have been right before bedtime. There's that smile again....

It has been six months since Andrew passed away. Feels like it just happened six hours ago and at the same time it seems like 600 hundred years since I've seen him, heard his voice.

A friend of mine who lost her granddaughter recently asked me if it begins to get better. The answer is no.

The shock wears off but it never gets any better.

What does happen is that you become very skilled at incorporating it into your life. You become a master at holding back tears. You learn to lie without blinking when folks casually ask you how you are. You deliver an stellar performance worthy of an Oscar when people want to show you photos of their children. You can go to work and smile and do your job without any visible sign that for you the earth now rotates in the opposite direction and gravity is starting to disappear. You are the only one aware of the fact that at any moment you won't have the strength to keep the world from coming part at the seams.

How do you become so adept at all of this? Well, you have been practicing for 24 hours a day, seven days a week. And you trust, and you pray and most of all your ability to see beyond this world becomes amazingly clear. For the first time you realize how fleeting this life is and that nothing you do in this life, outside of getting ready for what comes next, matters.

I loved and raised a wonderful boy. His life was fleeting. I look forward to what comes next. My only job is to run the good race until then.

Andrew's incredible smile and dancing eyes - priceless.

Five years ago today Andrew and Jamie became a couple.

Just to let you all know. Andrew’s girlfriend Jamie had an emergency appendectomy last night but she is back home tonight and doing well.

Although this isn't the most flattering photo of Andrew I decided to post it because its a great picture of him with his Grandma Nini (Adelina Romero).

First Easter 1981
Second Easter at my Grandmother's house in Albuquerque, NM
Andrew's cousin Joel and Andrew
Andrew, my grandmother Nonnie, Joel and Joel's big brother Ted with his arm around Nonnie
Third Easter -
Wishing you all a blessed and happy Easter.

Below I have posted an exerpt from an email I sent my nephew Joel when asked how I was doing.

You asked me how I was and like I said, its a complicated answer. I laughingly answer when someone asks how I am, "I'm a hostile witness but that's okay." Folks who have the time to listen will stop to ask what in the world I mean. Then my story unfolds. I tell them that I have had the unpleasant privilege of knowing without any shadow of a doubt that I do in fact believe in Jesus and trust God. I tell them what happened and then I add that throughout my life I've always been a believer but its easy to have faith when it costs you nothing. Its easy to go to church, raise your hands, sing your hymns and drop your tarnished silver in the plate but it counts for little while things are going good. We can say we trust God and have faith and when he heals our loved ones or helps us out of a tough spot we can give him the credit but it means nothing without a standard by which to compare it to. Mercifully most of us never have to experience the standard of measurement. We get to keep going only imagining how devastating things could actually be. And I would never wish this reality on anyone I love but.... There is a rare blessing in having to turn over your greatest earthly treasure and still being able to say to God, I trust you. Joel, there is no way for me to explain this. I always knew I believed but it was never tested. Few people get the verification of their personal faith...it is a privilege, I didn't want it, but it is something of rare value. In addition there is a level of fellowship that I would have never experienced outside of this tragedy. The grace and blessings from family and friends have been amazing. People say all the time "Have you gotten mad at God yet for taking Andrew?" I say no, I trust his timing and his wisdom. Most people don't believe me and try to talk me into being mad but I'm not. The strangest thing I hadn't counted on has been God's silence. I have see him moving through others and the fact that I haven't jumped off a bridge is also due to him but I have to admit that I really expected something more direct. He remains quiet but loving and I accept that. I think for the most part what I want to talk about is probably none of my business right now. You know, things like "why?". I was feeling pretty sorry for myself about all this until I heard a preacher on the radio say that sometimes God is silent and we don't know why and he illustrated that by reminding us that even Jesus in his hour of need at the cross found his own father silent. The preacher said that this is one of the mysteries of God. I heard a preacher about 20 years ago talking about the error of "predestination". He used the example that God doesn't preordain that we will do this or that but he does know in advance what we will do. Then he explained it this way, for us time on earth moves horizontally. From beginning to end in a line. But for God sitting high on his throne time on earth moved vertically. He can see it all at once. Our birth, life and death is all able to be seen from his vantage point. Much like if we were on a hill that overlooks a town, we would be able to see a car leave is garage on one side and drive>west toward a washed out bridge. We don't make it go off the bridge but we know whats gonna happen (does that make sense?) Anyway, I kinda molded that notion to my own use. If there is anything to the theory that time moves vertically then the space between Andrews death and my own departure doesn't exist. I know, this isn't biblical but its interesting to ponder. Also, just for fun, one of my coworkers who was a math major in college helped me do a reverse calculation using the verse a day with the Lord is as a thousand years and a thousand years is as a day. Now keep in mind we took it completely out of context just for the sake of entertainment. He worked to fast for me to get it all but he figured that if the two time spans were interchangeable (and reversed) I could live another 30-40 years and it would be only about an hour in heaven. So sometimes when I'm really down I let myself think of it that way. I just keep telling myself, I'll be there in an hour.....