Stop: The Race is Over

Friday, Feb 7 2020

I got sick with the cold and I got one day off instead of two. I took that time to sleep, watch Hulu and take cold medicines along with chicken noodle soup later in the afternoon to just feel a little bit better. I hate it when I got a severe case of allergies the day before to end up pretty much like a pile of blob the next day. I didn't do much except laying on the recliner all day. I didn't have a bad feeling, or worries. It was just staying there like a vegetable waiting to be picked up, only in my case, I didn't.

By 7am on a Saturday, I heard my phone rang to the tune of Persona 5 battle song "My Last Surprise." I didn't felt anything about that call. But when I answered, I was still half asleep. I thought it was asking for a favor or something, but I never expected this. It was my sister from Michigan. At first, I felt that she was going to give the runaround on a subject or something, I was still half asleep. And just immediately said: "Spit it out!" because first I have to basically go up get my stuff ready to go to work like normal. But instead she basically said : "Papi, died." My mind didn't want to acknowledge this new information. I was basically in disbelief! I thought it might be a bad prank of a poor bad taste. I don't remember what happened next. Perhaps, I was silent to the whole ordeal letting her explain what happened. But from that moment on, I was numb. It was like everything just cease to function. This isn't an ordinary break up where a guy just disappear and leaves and I have to mourn for a few weeks or perhaps months to recover after you spent your own time, effort and money in the process. This was my parent who picked my mother up and raised me and my sisters as his own daughters. Who his crazy sense of humor by dancing and cracking jokes were common. And his faith, showed him wisdom and words of encouragement to everyone who needed it. I was always in contact with him when I left Puerto Rico 19 years ago and I was planning on seeing him in June or July of this year. Turned out, it was too late because he is gone. Gone when he was watching a baseball game on TV the night before and went to sleep only to not wake up. The last few weeks I didn't wanted to bother him with my complains of being single and my struggles of loneliness. Instead, I was talking to him about what's going on in his life. And he always said that He is praying for me.

At that moment, I didn't want to put pause on my job, or my routine. I was very afraid. She offered to pay for the one way ticket to PR. And I agreed. But still there were many things to solve like for example, getting what I have left on my savings on a Saturday, trying to get a carry on and finding a way to go to the airport. And I just lost it. Being single and alone is frightening specially when you thought you don't have a support system that can help you pull through it. Add fear of heights and airplanes and it's the whole scenario from the movie "Final Destination."

After getting the ticket online, I called my manager and let her know fighting unsuccessfully to not shed tears in the process. She offered to help and called the other manager and he loan me a carry on, a ride to go to the airport and some breakfast which I only drank orange juice because I didn't feel like eating solids. During that standoff, I felt peace that I knew who it was.

Between cancellations, transfers and trying to calm my nerves being on a plane after 19 years not flying, I landed in PR at 11:30pm and found my first setback. My phone was set to roaming, so I have to go to some office and call my sister to pick me up. I was the first to arrive from my family to her house. I stood there for a week. Between going back and forth, going to the funeral, seeing all the petty drama and seeing old friends. I didn't expected to come back like this. Struggling, lonely, alone. It was a lot I had on my mind. Seeing my stepdad on a casket, was dreadful, horrible. I couldn't hear his voice again, or his advice or his faith that one day I would be walking down the aisle. I wanted to see him again, but not like this; lifeless. I only said "I'm sorry."

There were a few people that I didn't see them in decades. One of them, we grew up together and we're basically the same age. She is a grandma now. And I really dread being asked "What you have been doing?" Because, I could ask "Well, I have bad luck in love and relationships." But I thanked God no one didn't asked for it. My sisters or my mom cover that saying: She came from Texas. That's the only attribute I had. Like coming from another world meant something for them. Better that, than I'm a single struggling woman dealing on another mourning period.

I came back on Sunday at 1am. My friend picked me up and drove for an hour because she didn't want to get to the highway because of accidents. I felt another culture shock. I felt out of sync. I didn't feel anything. Went out to eat at a hamburger place, but I didn't finish my meal. At least, I didn't sleep alone when I got home. I let her stay the night. Not only that, I have to show up to work at 3pm even with Jetlag. Worked for three days before having my normal days off. During my days off,

My mind stopped.

My hopes for the better dried up.

My dreams no longer exists.

I was completely drained.

I was completely alone on my own trying to figure it out how I could pull this off. I did it before, hundreds of times from disappointments to being brokenhearted, but this is a new ball game. My spirit was starting to grew cold, distant and numb. My dreams were coming to an abrupt stop, dreams of being someone's wife and having my stepdad knows that he could go in peace knowing that I won't be on my own anymore it turned out into dust. Hoping for better days, are turning to be like confused to know where I am going, where my eyes will be looking for comfort since I see comfort to be non-existant. I came back defeated. After fighting, against all odds I have to come to the reality that I hit the wall and it's now too late to go back or go forward.