Moment of Truth

There are profound moments in our lives when clarity and realization wander, hand and hand (or even jump feet first), into our consciousness, causing our perception of reality to shift. Oprah calls it a “light bulb moment.” I call it a moment of truth—a moment when we know our life must change.

One such moment came on August 8^th, 2008. I was sitting in a chapel watching my best girlfriend marry the man of her dreams. I’d been with Chambrey through her divorce, single life and then courtship with Shaun. I saw how much she loved this man, and how happy he made her. He was such a great guy, and their joy was so evident—I could both see and feel it…which made me all-the-more aware of the lack of this emotion (and many others) in my own marriage. I won’t go into further detail on this matter other than to say, it was a moment of truth—a moment when I knew my life must change. I also knew that if it was going to change, I would have to be the one to change it. It took some time, but eventually, I filed for divorce.

Now, why am I telling you this? Because it’s incredible the difference one year can make!

If you haven’t already, now would be a good time to catch up on mine and Paco’s love story by reading about HOW WE FIRST MET IN 1981, and then, HOW WE WERE REUNITED. Technology today is quite amazing! Between Facebook, instant messaging, webcams, and 2-cents-a-minute international phone cards, we were able to rekindle our love for each other, and watch it blossom into one of the most powerful forces either of us has ever felt.

Before I knew it, my flight to Lima was booked for July 28, 2009. Our plan was to get married on August 1, 2009—twenty-eight years to the day from our first kiss (um, yeah…we’re both sentimental). But I’d only have 23 days in Peru before I’d have to head home to my children and my job. We’d start the visa application process as soon as I got home, and voila—they’d be here! Three months tops, right? (HA!)

All along I’d felt so confident of every step Paco and I had made up to this point. But it wasn’t until I was about 30 minutes from landing in Lima that my stomach started churning and my insecurities began to resurface—not so much about the marriage plans that were already set in motion. I’d never felt more sure of my love for another person in my life. No, it was much more basic than that. Be brave and think “junior-high” for a minute, and you’ll be back in my mind just before landing. Will he think I’m cute? Will he LIKE me? Yeah, I know—lame. What can I say? I was nervous!

After landing in Lima I wound through various lines to get through customs and then to get my luggage—it’s hard to even recall the entire process because I was a bundle of nerves. I’m sure the people around me must have thought I was some druggie the way I was popping Altoids, but hey—a girl’s gotta have fresh breath, right?

So I got the green light and was able to pass through security and on to the gate and my awaiting fiancé whom I hadn’t seen face to face in 28 years. No pressure. (EEEEEEEEEK!) I’m sure I popped another Altoid at this point—maybe ten.

If I haven’t mentioned previously, I live in Houston, a culturally diverse atmosphere, so I’m used to being surrounded by people of every color, shape, size, sound, etc. But I’d forgotten what it’s like to be the only pale-skinned blonde in the room; the little white marshmallow in the cup of hot cocoa; the “gringa.” As I passed through the curtained gate, I literally approached a sea of dark hair. How was this marshmallow supposed to find her fiancé? And then I heard his voice…

“Tami! Tami!”

I could hear him, but there were literally hundreds of people crammed behind the roped-off gate I was about to pass. Once through, I was sure I’d be swallowed if I wasn’t holding his hand.

“Tami! Over here!”

And that was when I saw him—handsome, smiling, and bearing a single red rose and a balloon; my Peruvian Knight in Shining Armor; the love of my life; the other half of my heart and soul; my past, present and future. My Paco!

I’m not sure how I looked to him at that moment (bug-eyed, albino opossum about to be smashed by on-coming car comes to mind) but when I saw his face, looked into those brown eyes, and then reached out and clasped his hand, I instantly knew that all was right in my world. I was home, because home was anywhere in this world that we were together. We exchanged a brief kiss (did I mention that we were surrounded by hundreds of people), and then headed out to the car.

Paco’s dad had driven him to the airport and we were supposed to meet him out in the parking lot. But when we got out to the car, he wasn’t there yet. This was our first moment alone together—ironically, the last place Paco had kissed me 28 years earlier. And as things come full circle, I suppose it was fitting that this was the place he would kiss me—really kiss me—28 years later. And, boy howdy, did he ever!

The next week and a half was a whirlwind of wedding preparations and getting to know Paco’s daughters and family. Due to bureaucratic issues (surely a sign of the year to come), our wedding was pushed back a week. We weren’t going to be married on the anniversary of our first kiss, but we were rolling with the punches, and just so happy to finally be together. Paco’s daughters instantly captured my heart, and as I saw him interact with them, I really knew he was the man of my dreams. He’s truly the best father in the world!

Finally the day of our wedding arrived—Auguts 8^th, 2009. I have never felt more at peace or more sure in my life than at that moment as we stood before the judge and Paco’s family and vowed our commitment and love to each other. This was the beginning of the rest of our lives together, and next to the births of my children, this was by far the happiest day of my life.

It wasn’t till a few days later when I received an email from my BFF, Chambrey, that I made an incredible connection.

“You realize, don’t you,” Chambrey wrote, “that you were married on my one-year anniversary—August 8th! Can you believe it?”

No, I hadn’t realized it until that very moment, but I was truly amazed. In one year from when I was sitting in that chapel, having my “moment of truth,” my life had changed in so many ways. I was a new person—happier than ever! But in a little over a week I’d be heading back home to my kids, my job, and a mountain of visa paperwork…and that was okay. I was willing to endure whatever was necessary to have my not-so-little, new family together. My life—and heart—were forever changed and this was my new truth!

Stay tuned—there’s more to come!

Seeds, Songs and Social Networking

Love is like a seed—it grows with nourishment and likewise dies with neglect. Or does it? Now, I’m no horticultural expert, but actually I think a seed can go into some form of hibernation as it waits for the right set of circumstances which will allow it to grow—fertile soil, water, sun, handsome Peruvian gardener, white sandy beach, candle-lit dinner…

Wait a minute. Now where exactly was I going with this? Oh yeah—Love is like a seed.

If you’ve read my previous blog, you learned that in 1981, while on a summer foreign exchange program in Peru, a certain young man planted a “seed of love” in the heart of this California girl. And even though I got caught up in my senior year of high school and didn’t respond to his letter (something I’ll forever regret), I never forgot Paco, my handsome Peruvian boyfriend. Any time I thought of my summer abroad, there was always a certain tug at my heart where he left an undeniable impression.

But life goes on…

Paco and I each had many life experiences after our summer together—some great, some not-so-great, but always shaping us into the individuals we are today. We married others, had children (9 total) and subsequently divorced. We both agree that these children from our previous marriages definitely fall into the “great” life experiences category (we’ll leave the “not-so-great” up to your imagination). And while we were busy collecting these life experiences, we occasionally thought of each other.

Paco recalls an instance with a few friends where they where playing a little game of sorts—they’d let the ash of a cigarette fall into their hand and then make a fist. When the hand opened, a letter was revealed, formed from the ash. It was supposed to have some sort of meaning. When Paco opened his hand, the ash had formed the letter “T”. All of his friends said, “T for Torero.” But he replied, “No, T for Tami—my first love.”

After twenty-eight years apart, little did either of us know that our relationship was about to come full circle…and once again we were brought together by Carlos, my Peruvian brother and Paco’s childhood friend (although both times Carlos had no clue of his role as “cupid”). This time, however, modern technology played a huge role—more specifically, social networking, or Facebook. Carlos had moved to the US twenty-five years earlier, so when Paco received a friend request from him, he was thrilled. The first thing he asked Carlos was, “Have you heard from Tami?” Since I’d recently been in touch with Carlos’ parents, he was able to fill Paco in a little on my life.

A week later, I received a friend request from Carlos. Now, as much as I adore my Peruvian brother, I’ll be perfectly honest here—before I even checked out his pictures and information posted on Facebook, I clicked on his “friends” link. I had to know if Paco was one of his Facebook friends. And that was when I saw that familiar, still very handsome face. He was definitely older, but, well, some things just get better with age—Paco is no exception.

I can hardly describe how I felt at that moment—nervous, excited, and anxious all rolled into one. I really wanted to contact him but would he even remember me? It had been twenty-eight years since our last contact. And then there was the letter I never responded to. Maybe he thought I was a total jerk! I decided to sleep on it, but the next day I knew exactly what I wanted to do and sent Paco the friend request. What the heck, right? I mean, what could possibly happen anyway? He still lived a million miles away in Peru!

As Paco tells the story, he saw a friend request from Tamra Norton (my name the previous 24 years ) and thought, Who the heck is Tamra Norton? Just before he was about to hit delete, he decided to check out the picture of this Tamra Norton person. It was a middle-age blond lady, but as he took a closer look, he instantly recognized my eyes. It’s Tami! he thought, and immediately accepted my friend request accompanied by the first of many emails that we exchanged.

What can I say? It didn’t take long at all to fall back in love with Paco. He was, and is, the other half of my heart and soul. I’ve never felt so connected to another human being as I am with him. One of the many connections we share is our love of music. Over the course of our relationship we often send each other music videos or songs on Facebook. Early on, Paco sent me a song by Jose Feliciano called, I Wanna Be Where You Are. The lyrics go something like this:

Can it be I stayed away too long
and did I leave your mind when I was gone?
It’s not my thing trying to get back.
Darlin’ let me tell you where I’m at.

You don’t have to worry ‘cause I’m coming
back to where I always should have stayed.
Now I’ve learned the meaning to your story, Mama,
and there’s enough love for me to stay.

Please don’t close the door to our future.
There’s so many things we haven’t tried.
I will love you better than I used to
and give you all the love I have inside,

I wanna be where you are...

The first time I heard this song, tears filled my eyes. It was a defining moment in our relationship, because it was at that moment I knew Paco was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. But he was in Peru, raising his 2 daughters and I lived in Houston, the 4 youngest of my 7 children still at home. How could we bring our two families together? As an American citizen I could go to Peru any time I wanted to—no visa required. But we knew from the beginning that since I couldn’t move my children to Peru because of custody issues with their father, the only solution was for him and his 2 daughters to come here. All they needed to enter our boarders was a visa—simple right? I spent hours on the internet researching visas, trying to figure out how to get them here. This was not going to be easy.

After much discussion on the matter, one evening I received the following email from Paco:

You know how can I get a visa ????? I already know, simple, and charming, if I were in front of you, I will have to be on my knees, and asking you: WILL YOU MARRY ME, MY BEAUTIFUL AND NEVER FORGOTTEN FIRST LOVE OF MY LIFE. Then if you honored me saying yes, we get married and from this time I have to wait a few months and I will get my green card as an American legal resident, and after five years I can apply for American citizenship.

So, let's think about it, so well, I don't want to push you, I want you to be sure, more sure than you've ever been in your whole life, cause I think if we take this step it'll be forever, I want someone that get older with me, that talks to me, that makes me feel happy to get back home after my job, knowing that she is there, with a big smile, waiting for me.

Maybe I'm just a dreamer, but I think that when you love someone, you have to live, for making this special person's life as happy as you can. respect her, take care about her, supporting her in her sad days, understand she is human, and also can make mistakes, I just want to be happy, and make my whole family, that includes you and your kids, no hurting anyone, and being honest with you.

I think I wake up a little philos today, but sometimes ....no....... always...thst's it always..... we have to open our heart and soul and tell all that we keep inside.

Have a nice day Blondie.

So that was it—we were engaged! But we were still a “million” miles apart. The amazing thing about love, however, is that it gives you hope and strength…and that’s exactly what we were going to need for what lay ahead of us.

Stay tuned. There’s so much more to come!

Every Story Has a Beginning...

Mine and Paco’s was June of 1981. It was the summer before my senior year at Elk Grove High School and I was looking for a little (okay, well, a lot of) adventure in my 17-year-old life. So instead of attending cheerleading camp and hanging out at Rancho Seco all summer (Elk Grove’s version of “the beach”), I hopped on a plane and headed for Lima, Peru. I was participating in a 3 month foreign exchange program with American Field Service.

I was originally assigned to live with a Peruvian family who had a daughter my age, but the mom became sick right before I arrived. Within 24 hours of my arrival in Lima, AFS found me a new family—the Pimentels—Peruvian family extraordinaire! This was the beginning of a summer that would change my life forever.

Now my Peruvian brother, Carlos, was (and is) quite possibly one of the nicest, coolest, low-key dudes on planet earth and for 3 months took on the role of my big brother, protector, tour guide, social coordinator, and friend. And one thing was certain--I knew he had my back.

Soon after my arrival, Carlos introduced me to a group of neighborhood guys—Carlos’ posse, so to speak, which I soon became a member of. We did things like cramming ten teenage bodies into a VW bug to go to Miraflores and eat pizza, or dance at a disco, or dance at a party, or hang out on a park bench, or just hang out…anywhere! Some things about teenagers are universal. And among this group of guys was Paco—handsome, athletic build, dark curly hair and one year older than me. In a word—delicious.

Paco was a part of so many experiences I had that summer in Peru, but always at a slight distance—quite possibly because I had a boyfriend I’d met at the school I was attending. One night I took this boyfriend to a party where Paco was. “Why do you like this guy?” Paco asked me discreetly. “He has a monkey’s face. I’m much better looking, don’t you think?” (For the record, YES…I thought!!!!)

Soon thereafter, I broke up with “monkey face” and within days became Paco’s girl. I’ll never forget the night we first kissed—August 1, 1981. We were sitting on a park bench and Paco (who happened to speak pretty good English) was showing me his new cowboy boots…only he was calling then boats. “How do you like my new boats,” he said, raising boat-shaped cowboy boots in the air. Part of me wanted to laugh—it just seemed so funny. But the other part of me was melting inside as I sat next to this incredibly handsome guy…who was soon kissing me instead of talking about “boats.”

The end of my stay in Peru was rapidly approaching...and this mamma’s girl was incredibly homesick. I’d had an amazing summer abroad, but I was ready to return to my home, family, and senior year of high school. On one of my last nights in Peru, I was sitting on another park bench with Paco. We were talking, and if I recall, I’d been crying as I explained to Paco how homesick I was feeling. Something Paco said to me that evening has stuck with me all these years. “I love my country, Tami. I love Peru and I could never live anywhere else. This is my home.”

I completely understood where Paco was coming from…because at that moment I was feeling exactly the same. I loved my country, the United States of America. And as much as I loved the amazing people and culture of Peru (and this handsome, curly haired Peruvian boy), at that time in my young life, all I could think about was being back home with the people I loved the most—my family.

Before I left Peru, Paco gave me a silver necklace. On one side was engraved my name, and on the other, his name and August 1^st 1981—the day of our first kiss. We exchanged addresses and a kiss at the airport, and I was flying home. Soon thereafter, I received a letter and picture from him. I remember the day I received it so well. My first week of my senior year at Elk Grove High School had just started….and a new chapter of my life. I was involved in cheerleading, student government, and all those things that consume the lives of American teenagers. So I set the letter aside, thinking I would respond soon. Days, weeks, and months passed, and the letter from Peru went unanswered—quite possibly the biggest mistakes of my life.

Paco tells me that he checked the mail every day for months before he finally gave up that I would respond (which makes me feel like the biggest schmuck in the universe!!!!). I stayed in touch with the Pimentel family on and off through the years, but it would be 28 years before I’d ever have contact again with the handsome, athletic build, curly haired, Peruvian boy—now man—who won my heart one summer, on a park bench as he showed off his new boats.

Stay tuned—there’s more to come.

An Immigration Love Story

Last August I married Paco—the love of my life, my soul mate, my other half, and a million-and-one other clichés that make cynics roll their eyes or shove their fingers down their throats—and after twenty-three blissful days of togetherness, we’ve been separated ever since. Not by choice, but because in order to live our “happily ever after,” we need to live in the same country (sharing the same tube of toothpaste and bed would be nice too). Moving myself and my seven children to Peru wasn’t an option, and since Paco has had custody of his two daughters the majority of their lives, we chose to have them immigrate here to The United States.

Easier said than done!

This has definitely been the longest and most difficult year of my life dealing with this whole immigration nightmare. But it’s almost over! (Do I hear a hallelujah?!) Hopefully before summer’s end and maybe before our one year anniversary—please, oh please, oh puh-leeeeze, Heavenly Father, Uncle Sam, and the Powers That Be at USCIS, let it be before our one-year-anniversary!—our not-so-little family will finally be together.

And the fun begins!

Paco and I have no delusions that we are creating some multicultural fairytale to be set in the suburbs of Houston, Texas. We knew from the beginning that we would have our challenges. (By the way, neither of us is a stranger to challenge, and hello…this first year of marriage has been nothing but a challenge!) But I’m an optimist, a dreamer, a believer, and an achiever—I have to be. Thankfully, so is Paco. Sure we’ll have our bumps and lumps as we combine our two families, two languages, two cultures, two religions, and the list goes on... But we have one heart, and with this heart (which is bigger than the state of Texas) we will take on each challenge and whup its sorry tail! Just sayin’.

And you can watch us… Or read about it, anyway, in this blog.

Introducing the cast:

Me: Tami—also known to the cast as Mom, Mommy, Mommy Tami, and Gringa (a term of endearment Paco gave me 29 years ago (and that story is coming)—thus, Mommy Gringa. I gave birth to 7 children from a previous marriage, and thank God every day for those 7 and the 2 bonus daughters I’ve been blessed with. I love writing, reading, dancing, Raisin Bran, diet Coke and dark chocolate. Would love to play drums in a rock band some day…with Lenny Kravitz and Prince on guitar, and Michael Buble and/or Paul McCartney on lead vocals. Hey…why not?

Paco: Love of my life, my handsome husband, and my boyfriend 29 years ago when I was an exchange student in Peru (summer of ’81). Father to 2 beautiful daughters, and insurance executive. “People Person” extraordinaire. Loves soccer, ‘80s music, soccer, action movies, soccer, dancing, and soccer (or should I say, futbol?).

Adult Children: (They come and go from home but are always in our hearts.)

Preston: the writer, a.k.a. The British Guy (because apparently he looks like one).

Amber: mother of my grandkittens. (Both Preston and Amber are in their last year of college).

Lexi: mother of Tristan, a.k.a. Mr. Twister, and responsible for making us grandparents at a much-too-young age!

Josh: Muscle Guy! Starting community college in the fall.

Teens/Pre-Teens:

Tommy: Piano Man and Ladies Man-in-Training—Oy!

Mafe: Total Latin Beauty! She also speaks and understands quite a bit of English.

Spencer: Our funny guy!

The “Twins”:

Maki and Allie—Amazing, we know, but somehow Paco and I produced “twins.” They’re 10 months apart in age and speak different languages, but look and act so much alike—really!. We can’t wait till these two are actually in the same room together. Our bet is that they’ll create their own language…and maybe even drive us all crazy.

There’s much more to come, so stay tuned…