Tomorrow is Andrew's birthday. So I thought I share some photos from his very first birthday.

Hot air balloons were all the rage in Albuquerque (and still are) so we had his cake made in the shape of a balloon.
So have yourself a piece of cake tomorrow in honor of his birthday and...
... try to sneak out of bed sometime in the early morning hours (like 4 a.m.)

to view the Perseids - even the stars celebrate Paco's birthday!

When Andrew first left us I would pray and beg God to let me dream about him. For the most part I didn't. However, since my heart attack I am surprised by how often I dream about him now. I dreamed about him last night again which is very unusual.
This was a very quick little dream. I was standing inside a building that had a wall that was all glass. Fixed glass like a business, not windows you could open. Outside was a pool and Andrew was swimming in the pool. Suddenly there was an announcement that everyone needed to get out of the pool and get ready because the plane was getting ready to land. (I know - dreams are weird). The next thing I knew I was hurrying toward the gate where he was arriving but I woke up before he came through the gate.

Aren't dreams strange?

Yesterday I had to deal with a situation of child abuse. It impacted me on a huge scale and must have still been on my mind when I fell asleep last night.
I dreamed Andrew was about 5 years old and someone had decided to discipline him by making him sit on a shelf. ( You know how weird dreams can be sometimes.)
So I came into the room where there was this big metal cabinet (the kind you commonly see in a garage) and I opened the metal door and Andrew was sitting on a shelf looking almost identical to this photo. He was smiling and having the time of his life - not the least bit distressed. I held out my arms and he came to me and wrapped himself around me in a big hug. I held him and hugged him so tight, sort of knowing in the back of my mind that being able to touch him was unusual.
The thing is, it reminded me of times when I disciplined Andrew. It was always a challenge because he always enjoyed himself no matter what. I was wasting my time to send him to his room or make him stand in the corner. He would immediately started day dreaming and playing with his fingers or something equally non-removable and be having a great time. Although frustrating, I loved that about him.

This was an interior shot of Andrew's first apartment.

If ever I didn't know what was going on in my son's life - this was it.

It was his first place of his own and he very much didn't want his mom to be a part of it. He wanted to test his wings and fly solo. He would have been about 18 or 19 years old, I can't remember. I didn't know it was it would ever be important to remember - always thought I would be able to just ask him how old he had been...either way, I was not generally welcomed there.

He was working full time and had enough income to afford this place that as I mentioned earlier was "piece" of what had been a large house at one time. The front door opened into a room that was both his living room and bedroom. That room opened into the kitchen area and then there was a tiny dark frightening bathroom off of the kitchen. You could say the living room/bedroom and kitchen were pretty much one large room. When I look back it was a actually very roomy area.

Lots of light - the windows you see in the photo were high enough up that he didn't have to worry about any one pressing their face against the glass to look in. Consequently he put his twin size bed into the bay of the window where he could sit by day and lay by night and look out the window.

Andrew was a slob! There is no delicate way to describe his surroundings. He couldn't care less what anyone thought about it either. Despite years of training, arguing and tears he enjoyed living among piles of clothes, shoes, skateboards, guitars and books. Stacks and stacks of books. I have told you before that he was an avid reader and would have a book in every room that he was reading. Jamie tells me that it was nothing for him to be reading five books at the same time. Now in his own place he went from bad to worse. But as he reminded me often - he was the one paying the rent and it was none of my business....and he was right.

I believe this was a difficult time for him in several ways. He broke up with a long time girlfriend about this time and was probably more alone in that apartment than he realized when he rented it. He was quickly learning that some friends are not true friends - more like bums and moochers. I also remember a friend hanging out over there who had brought along another friend, a girl about 13 or 14 years old.

She thought Andrew hung the moon but Andrew was smart enough to not go near her. She would constantly call him and come over. He had to spend much of his time hiding from her. Many nights he would come home and park his car in our driveway and ask me to give him a ride back to his apartment so he could be home without her seeing his car and stopping by.

He became very restless and disillusioned about this time and decided he wanted to move back to New Mexico. (I'll write more about that later.) So sure enough he gave away all of his things and packed up his car and he and his cousin drove back and got an apartment together. I was so sad to see him go but I was also very excited for him.

I was always a terrible mother hen. Because of his illness I worried constantly about him. I drove him crazy checking on him to see that he was okay. I can remember waking up at 4am worried about him and getting in my car and driving by his house. I didn't stop because he wouldn't like it and I didn't want to admit how obsessed I was with his safety.

At the same time I knew I didn't want him to be smothered. I also knew I couldn't help but do it so in a very strange way I was glad that he left and went back to New Mexico. As much as I worried about him I also encouraged him to have adventures and never once tried to keep him "down on the farm". My life with him was a constant struggle to not be afraid and to encourage growth and independence in him. Ironic now that I think about it.

I remember two separate things about his place very clearly. One time I stopped by and he was there alone. He was riding his scooter (you remember they were all the rage about 8 years ago - these little scooters about the size of a skateboard with little motors on them) in this large loop through the living room/bedroom and into the kitchen. He never stopped while I was there. He was friendly and talkative but kept going round and round in circles until I gave up and left.

The other memory bothers me greatly. It was after his break up with the girlfriend and I stopped by to see how he was doing. He opened the door wide but told me that he didn't want me to come it. He wanted to be alone. I glanced in the apartment and he had sheets and sheets of notebook paper that he had completely filled from top to bottom with his writing. They were all taped up on the walls. The wall was covered with them. I asked about it and he said he was just doing some writing and that it was private. I worried a lot about him during that phase and watched him closer than usual (hence the 4am drive bys) but he came out on the other side just fine. Soon he pulled the writing off the walls -threw them away- and embarked on a new adventure in Las Vegas, NM.

Years later we joked about his "manifesto" plastered on the apartment walls. I will always wonder what it said... Irregardless, he was always able to overcome even the darkest hour and walk away laughing...I bet he's still laughing...

I dreamed about Andrew again last night. Do you know how unusual it is for me to dream about him at all let alone so close together to the last dream? But I'm not complaining.

The photo above is of the outside of Andrew's very first apartment. This old house in West Plains had been carved into several apartments. His was on the ground floor looking out at the street. It was old and dilapidated but still really cool for a young man's first place. In a couple of days I will post another photo and tell you some stories about the time he lived here, for now I want to tell you about my dream last night.

Last night I dreamed I had parked my brand new pickup truck in a very isolated (read: dumb) place to park and I went to check on it. There were a couple of people with me and when we got there sure enough someone had tried unsuccessfully to steal the battery. We managed to put it back in and I knew I had to move the truck. I think Andrew was one of the other's in the dream but I can't swear to it. That's the way it is sometimes - I wake up with a general feeling that I have seen him in my sleep.

But the next dream was very vivid and I woke up remembering it. I dreamed that after I got back from moving the truck I went into my own house and could see some of Andrew's knick - knacks were sitting on the table and I knew he had been there digging through his old stuff and retrieving things. You'd have to know Andrew - he was (like his mom) a collector of things, very sentimental and enjoyed being himself so much that regardless of how old he got he would still cherish the things he had as a child. He got a kick out of showing them off - they were his collectibles. He collected Mechanical Elmo's - you know - the ones that sing or dance. He always got one from me for Christmas - always, right up to his last Christmas.

Anyway, it was so normal to see these few things he had pulled out of storage and set aside. He wasn't in my house so I gathered them up and took the next door to a single wide trailer that I knew Andrew had recently moved into. I went in and there he was, sitting on the floor (no furniture) doing something on his laptop. The counters were completely covered with glasses of various kinds very neatly stacked. There was a dark haired woman - older than he cleaning the kitchen floor. Andrew told me that she was the former tenant and had just come to finish cleaning up and getting the last of her things so he could move in.

I remember thinking that for a single wide (and a rental no less) it was incredibly clean and really pretty cool inside. The carpet was purple..when Andrew was young that was his favorite color until someone told him it was a "girl color" then he switched to green. Which is why my Nautical Star tattoo is green and purple.

I told him that I thought this was a pretty nice place and that I would be tickled if he bought it and stayed here since it was right next door to me. He said he's think about it.

Now in real life there would be no way that he'd live near me. I worried about him too much and it drove him crazy. His favorite thing was to refer to me as "A Chihuahua on Crack" when talking about my lecturing. I think that's very funny -

That's pretty much the whole dream. One thing I can't seem to find the words for is how I feel when I wake up and know that I have seen him. The fact that it feels so real is very important to me. Its one of the things that helps me make it. Then there is the whole deal where I try to figure out the dream. I would like to think that this one means that he is very near me.

Last time I talked to Jamie (she's working 70 hours a week and hasn't had much free time to come for a visit) she said that she had recently dreamed that she and someone else were trying to climb up a very steep muddy slope. She kept sliding down and having to start over. She said that Andrew was with her the whole time and kept encouraging her. She finally made it to the top and the other person with her didn't. There were people waiting for her at the top and they asked her how she made it up such an impossible climb. She told them that she made it because Andrew was with her. (Although he had kind of disappeared by this time)

Now here's the neat part, she said that when she woke up she instantly knew she could make it. No matter what happened she was going to be okay because Andrew is with her, helping her. I love that.

I don't know what I believe about dreams. I believe they are important and not random. I don't think God would give us the ability to dream unless he meant for it to assist us in some way. We know from the stories in the Bible that God sent dreams to warn people or give them wisdom so I know they are important.

It goes against my personal beliefs to think that either dream, hers or mine means that Andrew is "Our Guardian Angel". Sorry folks - can't believe it. Based on what I understand about the nature of angels and the nature of our spirit I know that to believe that someone was an angle would imply a demotion of sorts. God created angles for a purpose and us for a higher purpose.

But I can believe that God sent a message in the form of a dream telling us that its all okay. That Andrew is close, he still knows us and cares for us and wants us to be comforted by that information. But just like him not hanging around Jamie once she was up the hill or the fact that he was working on his laptop or shopping (as in the most recent dream) is telling us that he isn't idle over there - he has things to do - he loves us but has to get back to what he doing.

And that's very cool.

I had the strangest dream last night. I dreamed I was headed somewhere and got detoured to a huge indoor swap meet. It had the best stuff I had ever seen at a swap meet. Really good stuff that was really cheap.

I found this set of mixing bowls that I have been eyeing on eBay. They are these wonderful pink (like the color on the old Teaberry Gum packages) Pyrex bowls in what was called the Gooseberry Pattern. They were mark $4.25 for the set. I only had to pay $3.50 for them. A total steal!

I was standing at the checkout table after having completed my purchase and was talking to the other people standing there. Suddenly the door opened and Andrew came in. I was so surprised and delighted. I said "Andrew, I'm so glad you're here. I was just thinking how much you would like this stuff they are selling." Then I grabbed him and hugged him as tight as I possibly could. He was friendly but didn't hug back - didn't say anything that I remember, just smiled and then went on to browse through the swap meet. I returned to the group of people I was talking to and pointed Andrew out to them. I said "That's my son. He died about six months ago but now he's back."

Isn't that odd? I have often wanted to make physical contact with him in past dreams but never did. It was like there was a veil I couldn't reach past. But last night I held on to him for a very long time.

I woke up so happy. I was elated to have had the chance to hold him again even if it was only in a dream. Then I headed to the shower to get ready for work. We have a radio on in the bathroom at all times (It's hooked up to the light switch) and as I began my shower this song came on.

What makes this interesting is that Andrew loved this song and had just discovered it at the time of his death. He was trying to learn it so Jamie said he played it over and over and over and over... She said he had gotten very good at the vocals.

She requested that it be played at his funeral. I hadn't heard it since I was a teenager and had almost forgotten about it. (Since then I have it on my IPod and hear it frequently.) But, I can't recall hearing it on the radio at all. I thought it was intriguing that it would play right after I dreamed about Andrew.

As I sang along with the radio I couldn't help but smile and say, yes - you really blew my mind.

Today is the day we set aside to celebrate our independence. One of the ways we do this is to shoot off wonderfully colorful fireworks. So, since Andrew was a real firecracker in his own way I thought I'd post some "Paco Fireworks" in the form of his various hair colors. Not really red, white and blue, more like red, yellow and green but totally Paco all the same.

Ironically, this is what happens when children celebrate their independence from the influence of their mother who would have never approved of him dying his gorgeous hair.

Hope you have a wonderful Fourth of July. Be safe -

Happy Fathers Day

Today on The Oprah Winfrey Show the topic was the grieving of family members who lost their children in very tragic circumstances...nightmare situations...

I sat and cried and shook my head "yes" as I listened to them tell their stories. There is an empathy that no one except those of us in this "group" (that no one ever wanted to join) has for other parents that no one can begin to comprehend.

The mother of the beautiful child killed in a car accident said that she can't believe she has continued to exist for two more years after this tragedy. I understand that. When Andrew's first anniversary rolled around I was devastated to reach a point where I would no longer refer to losing him in terms of months and now speak of years. How could that happen? How did I live past that very first sundown? I don't know.

But I do know.

I know that bad things happen. With no rhyme or reason bad things happen. As much as we hope they never happen to us there is no real reason why they shouldn't. I'm not special or magic. I, like everyone else, live in an imperfect world and tragedy is without prejudice, it follows no profiles when it seeks out a victim. It just happens.

And although my Andrew didn't leave this earth in such a traumatic way as the families on today's show, it doesn't mean that his untimely passing wasn't hard. I have spent my fair share of time second guessing decisions that were made in regards to his health from the time he was born and wondering if something could have been done differently that would have changed the outcome. I could drive myself crazy "what if-ing", and sometimes I do.

But what helps me...what keeps me from stepping in front of a train (because that's what you secretly want to do a lot of the time) is the assurance that even if I have to go on for another 20 or 30 years without him, it's still less than a blink of an eye in the scope of eternity. One day I will close my eyes and open them again on the other side of the river and it will be as though it never happened. He will be there along with my grand parents, my mother, maybe my dad ( I will be curious to see how that worked out), and all of the people I have loved in my lifetime and all the rest I will love for eternity.

Its not a pacifying tactic, not a coping mechanism. It is what it is.....the truth.

From "The Rubaiyat Of Omar Khayyam"

" Alike for those who for Today prepare,

And those that after a Tomorrow stare,

A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries

"Fools! your Reward is neither Here nor There!"

* * *

Oh, come with old Khayyam, and leave the Wise to talk; one thing is certain, that life flies; One thing is certain, and the Rest is Lies; The Flower that once has blown for ever dies."

* * *

I can't move forward much less fly if my life is weighed down with grief and sorrow, and I want to fly..in more ways than one. And Andrew would want me to.

As I have struggled with my own health issues I have thought so much about Andrew. I have a renewed appreciation for how hard it must have been for Andrew to be so sick all of his life. I miss him so much, he really was the neatest kid in the world. So damn funny - I miss that.

I wish I could say that I saw him and spoke to him and came away with a nugget of wisdom but its just not there.

This life is such a mystery. And I think that's cool - I don't know why I didn't follow him through that gate, I feel very confident that staying was the right thing -

Please hop over to The Capricious Painter for an update on my recent absence.

Andrew was only five years old when this song was released. Believe it or not he was already developing his own taste in music. This was the first contemporary music cassette tape I can remember buying him. He loved this song.

Everybody Wants To Rule The World - Tears For Fears

I seldom cry when I post something to The Zen, but this picture makes me cry.

When Andrew was 3 years old I quit my job to stay home with him. I was fortunate enough to stay home for the first 8 years that Andrew was in school. I still needed to have some income so I babysat. Andrew wasn't much over 5 years old in this picture. He decided to put on a puppet show for the kids I watched. He set it up and used his toys as the puppets. He did all the characters and thier voices. This was Andrew.

This picture makes me cry.

Crying...its one of those things that creeps people out. They don't know what to do with me when I cry, so I try not to do it too often in front of people. But I'm crying all the time on the inside. No that's not quite true, its more like alternating between crying and screaming. But I do it real quiet, on the inside.

I'm falling apart, not really getting much better, maybe even worse. This is a hard thing, the hardest ever. Last week my husband and his cousin planted a tree in the front yard for Andrew. A Mimosa...Andrew would have like this very much...and they are ordering a plaque and asked what I wanted inscribed on it. I knew immediately..it will say

"Be Still and know that I am God" Psalms 46:10
In Memory of Andrew "Paco" Romero
1980-2006

The 46th Psalm reminds us that God is our strength and our refuge. I remember this every moment of every day. When Andrew first died I said to myself, "I don't understand why but I know that God knows more about this than I do." I trust God completely in this tragedy, it doesn't stop the pain, but it makes it bearable to get through one more day.

Nautical Star

The sun comes up each morning
Feel your hand reach out for mine
Hear your whistling in the songbirds
As the sundial marks the time

I always seem to just miss you
Thought I heard you in the breeze
Caught a quick glimpse of you moving
In a canopy of trees

Heard your laughter in thunder
When your joking rain was done
Saw your eyes dance in the lightening
Always teasing just for fun

You ran too fast to catch you
You left me without goodbye
I look for you all day long now
Come and find me, tell me why

Late night moon says he knows you
The stars spell out your sweet name
Wishing you would come back home now
Come back home from where you came.

Dance me in the darkness
Play me music I can’t hear
Feel the rhythm of your heartbeat
Whisper low and draw me near

Come home now starlight strider
Return my nautical star
Searching for that galaxy rider
Bring me home to where you are

Just for fun I created a new constellation - Its called "Paco" and its sign is the Joker - many are born under other signs but choose this one. Those who identify themselves as "Paco's" are loving and much loved, talented, intelligent, funny, entertaining, joyful, passionate, prone to great depths of emotions, extremely witty, sensitive, caring, impatient and most uniquely the ability to see beyond the day to day.

I was born a Gemini - I changing to a Paco... anybody else?

Jamie requested this song be played for Andrew at his funeral.

Its so Andrew -

In past posts you have heard me talk about this is the song always being played when I'm out. Its like he always right there with me -

A wonderful surprise and touching tribute by Sandy. Sandy is an incredibly talented artist and photographer and I am so honored by her post today.

Please visit the link below:


http://sandy-everydayart.blogspot.com/

Doesn't this just make you smile all over?

..just because he's so darn cute!