I had an amazing weekend. But honestly, I feel a little weird saying that considering that this weekend is the ten-year anniversary of the 9/11 tragedy, when so many lives were lost, and we as a nation grieved for them. But personally, I think it was also a time when heroes stepped up, and provided hope. And it is because of those heroes that I thought why not just write about this amazing weekend?
You see, there are many heroes in our lives although many of them are often unrecognized. But this weekend, I remembered mine. And I realized that God does place certain people in our lives, at the precise time when we need them, and those people become our heroes to help us through, and give us hope.
On Friday night, I went to see the Tchaikovsky Spectacular at the Hollywood Bowl. And just to warn you, you'll probably see the word amazing on this post many times, but it was just AMAZING! The moment the orchestra started to tell the story of Romeo and Juliet, I felt as if this huge, heavy drape that was over my body began to lift up. And as the music got louder, intense, and then soften to a romantic melody, I felt the drape drop away from me, and my body was free. At that moment, I felt every sound, every note, that came from the orchestra. And by the time Swan Lake began, I was me again. Me before the tragedies of my life happened. And I remembered the girl who wasn't afraid to express herself. The girl who wore faded jeans, peasant tops and mismatched shoes, and always had daisies or sunflowers (or both) in her hair, even when she was often reminded that she was in the wrong decade (and was so out of season). The girl who took her oversized Keroppi to school, and made sure he had a seat next to her in class (and this was senior year of high school). The girl who made tape recordings to declare and profess her love to her high school boyfriend. The girl better known as the memory keeper. And the girl who was not afraid to stand up for a cause, and speak her mind. The girl who wanted to be a dancer, an actress, a writer and a lawyer, all at the same time.
The girl before the conglomeration of tragedies.
You see, the unfortunate consequence of tragedies are these protective layers that start to hover over us . And the more tragedies that come our way, that protective armor, those huge, heavy drapes, or big, stone walls, become so great that we get lost in them. And eventually, forgotten.
I became lost in mine. For a long time.
But something happened this weekend. Maybe it was Tchaikovsky. Or I've just been reading a lot of old letters and journals. Or it's the 9/11 anniversary. However, I realized that we all have our stories and we all have our tragedies, but the tragedies of mine are no longer relevant. What matters is that I survived them. Because tragedies happen and will happen, but what matters is what we do with those tragedies. How do we respond? Do we fold? Or do we fight for our lives? For our happiness? Now, looking back, I realize that although I was battered, bruised and broken for a long time, I always had some hope. And when that hope was diminishing, God placed people in my life, to remind me of it. To give it back to me. To believe in me when I didn't believe in myself.
On Saturday night, I went to the Harvest Crusade at the Dodger Stadium. It was the most humbling experience. And I felt rejuvenated. Found. But most of all, grateful. And blessed. As Chris Tomlin sang Amazing Grace, I thought, yes, it's because of God's grace that I'm here. Happy. Really happy.
And like the wonder of life, today I came across a treasure. As I was cleaning up boxes of old documents and letters and books, I came across a manila envelope with the word "Speech" written across it. Inside were copies of my junior high newspaper with my bylines in them; my elementary school "yearbook" where "lawyer" was written under my ambition; cards from my Speech coach encouraging me to be a winner; and a college letter recommendation from my English teacher. By the time I finished reading the letter, I was crying. Because, like I said, life happened and it was not so nice at times, and the letter reminded me of how God placed people in my life to help me through my battles. My English teacher wrote the letter as a second, special recommendation after I got rejected from the university I really wanted to go to. I hand delivered that letter to the University head of admissions after sitting in the waiting area outside of his office all day. I still didn't get into the school.
But I am a lawyer as I aspired.
And I thank my heroes for that.
Photo: Flavio
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