Category: Write here, write now

“Rosemary Does Time*”

Posted on by Amada Acosta Addair in Fictional Faves, Mama, Men, Write here, write now

Rosemary stepped onto the fourth floor of the courthouse. “Domestics & Civil,” a sign on the wall read. She looked around. A security guard stood near courtroom three. A man sat at a bench looking angry. People eyeballed one another. Didn’t look so civil. 

Rosemary spotted her attorney with another client. A hand-guided suggestion to sit near courtroom four, was the physical communication her attorney gave. Rosemary followed suit.

Thirty minutes, she noted on her diamond-encrusted Tag Hauer. She had come too early. That was just like Rosemary. So fucking eager. That had always been her weakness. The reason she had landed in the big house in the first place. Seven minutes in heaven? Seventeen years in hell.

“At least he was a good provider.” She heard a voice inside her say. She knew that voice. It was mother’s voice saying the thing Rosemary had once heard grandmother say to her mother.

When Rosemary realized that she was pregnant, Ronald was in his fifth year of college. He barely had enough credits to be considered a first semester junior. But, his parents owned the largest insurance company in the State. Ronald got a Director of Marketing title and a nice office. Rosemary got the M-R-S title and a white, two-story house.

Rosemary extended her left hand to look at the engagement ring. She still hadn’t taken off the two-carat diamond. It was a fine piece of jewelry. And it, along with a home filled with objects had pacified her during the marriage. Ronald was good at gifts; bad at surprises.

Like the time he surprised her during a party at their house. She went downstairs to get more paper products and found him fucking one of her friends in the storage room. 

Like the time he surprised her with an STD.

Liked the time he surprised her son with a fast car. Like the times he allowed her son to have a “drink with dad.” Like the times he taught her son to drive drunk. Like the time…

STOP!

She breathed in through her nose. Held her breath for a five count. Exhaled through her mouth.  

She would not grieve Charles. Not like this. Not. Like. This.  

She would grieve Charles by thinking of all the good times they shared together. The bike rides along Linear Trail. Sunday dinners with family and friends. The road trips Ronald planned for them.

Yes, she would even remember Ronald’s role in the good times. After all, he was part of the good times that she had with her son. A double-edged sword of happy memories and sad thoughts. She could see herself getting addicted to the pain.

“Adoption Day!” A family near courtroom three cheered. A pretty brunette started talking into a phone. “This is our Facebook live event.” 

Rosemary looked at the floor. Adoption day. Maybe she should have considered an adoption day. If she had Charles would still be…

No! She stopped herself. She would never have given Charles up. He was a beautiful baby. He was the perfect baby, her baby. She closed her eyes and saw his beautiful face. Dark bushy eyebrows, jet black hair, and full lips; those had been her gifts to him. Love of music and dancing. Zest for life. He had gained all the best of her Puerto Rican heritage.

And, he had gained some of the worst features of her heritage… Reckless, daring, and her father’s machista attitude. Those had been the other attributes he had gained from her side.

No. Ronald was a machista and he wasn’t Latino. “I’m the man, sweetheart.” He said when she requested he consult with her before making family decisions. It did not matter that her father was a machista and Latino. Ronald was a machista and white. Ethnicity didn’t matter to male dominance.

She looked around for Ronald. Of course, he wasn’t going to show up. He had never shown up for the marriage. Why would he show up for its end?

Rosemary thought about her time moving forward. She had been a child, a freshman in college, when she married at 19. She became a mother at 20. Now at 37, she was going to be single and childless. She had never learned who she was. Now, she was losing everything that she had ever been. 

Rosemary stood up. She did not need to be thinking like this. Not like this. She inhaled through her nose. She went to the nearest restroom. The lighting was horrible but at least there was a full-length mirror. Rosemary stood before it, examining her navy pants and matching jacket. She was going for professional and strong. A crisp white button-down shirt and her favorite scarf, the one she bought in Paris, completed her outfit of choice to commemorate the end of her past. 

She brushed her hands through the dark slanted bob. She had cut off over sixteen inches of hair last night. She applied a plum colored gloss on her lips. Rosemary was ready to get regain her freedom. She would do great things with it. And, she would never take her life, herself, for granted. 

Rosemary’s first order of business; take a road trip with her sister. She had never taken advantage of the liberal paid time off she received while working at her in-law’s insurance company. She had, for example, never gone on a girls’ trip. She would do that now.

Rosemary returned to the hall and found her attorney ready to go into the courtroom. They stood at one of the tables and waited for the judge to appear. “Answer the questions,” her lawyer said. Confirm the agreement.

“All rise.” 

Rosemary watched the judge sit on his bench. He was serious looking in his black robe. His black-framed glasses contrasted sharply with his white hair. He motioned her to the witness stand. 

Rosemary raised her right hand. “I do.” She responded when asked about telling the truth. But could she? Could she tell the truth about her relationship? Did she herself even know what the truth was? She knew what her mother had said, “you do the crime; you pay the time.” 

What had been her crime anyway? Giving her virginity up to a frat boy who did not believe in condoms. No. She would not beat herself up about that. No more. Rosemary knew it was time; time for her to get out. She would call it… early release for good behavior.

“I filed.” She looked at the judge’s face. She wondered if he was a parent. “Incompatibility.” She responded to her lawyer’s question. 

She took a breath and braced herself for the question that was about to come. “Yes. But he died. There are no other children under the age of majority. No other children period.”

The judge looked down at his hands. He was a parent. She recognized the discomfort he felt. It was the discomfort every parent now felt around her. 

“Yes, the agreement is fair, just, and equitable.” She responded. 

Rosemary had been surprised by that. She expected Ronald’s family to rally around him. Especially after Charles’s funeral where she had been poisoned by grief; “he’s dead and it’s on you.” She blamed Ronald; threw it in his face. 

“Thank you, your honor.” Rosemary said after the judge wished her luck. 

Out in the hallway, Rosemary thanked her lawyer and walked away. Her seventeen-year sentence commuted. Ready for a freedom she had not wanted, she walked out the courtroom a childless mother and an ex-wife. But, she walked out a woman ready to be focused on herself. Rosemary’s time was now her own.

*A story about love… or at least the end of it. Welcome to my blog. Today, I am excited to share a short story I wrote a few years ago. Copyright 2018 by Amada Acosta Addair (Gabriela Amada Vega Acosta.)

Grand New Party

Posted on by Amada Acosta Addair in Poetic License, Write here, write now

What a grand new party it will be, once we stop thinking you versus me.

And start acting collectively, like a WE.

They call themselves the grand old party A.K.A. GOP.

Their goal: to fuck us over. Yeah, you and me.

They believe in rights if you’re a corporation.

Just not for the people all across this nation.

With them, Poverty is your only station.

They want no health care or public education.

Democrats you ain’t far behind.

For decades you supported racist minds.

You spewed hatred and told minorities “toe the line.”

What’s more? Greed overwhelmed your lives.

Politicians they all knew.

Their rhetoric spread and the anger grew.

The people? They just fell for it.

Didn’t see past the fucking bit.

Fought each other to be the fittest of fit.

At the table, angry cause an “other” took a seat.

Fighting for one damn scrap of meat.

Since we don’t work together, we get beat.

It’s time to act. Don’t be hasty.

Be a voter, large numbers means safety.

Take care of neighbors.

Stop with the race wars.

Don’t let yourself be politicians’ whores.

But oh, what a grand new party it will be,

Once we stop thinking you versus me.

And act collectively, like a WE.

Norte

Posted on by Amada Acosta Addair in Poetic License, Write here, write now

Al norte yo me voy

demostrando lo que soy.

Para triunfar, para sufrir,

para llorar y sonreír.

Para echarle muchas ganas

y hacer mucho de nada.

En el Norte trabajare

y muy rico me pondre.

Me sentire todo un rey,

aunque trabaje como un buey.

En oficinas, labores y restaurantes

con papeles o en flagrante.

En el norte yo ya estoy

dando todo lo que doy.

Hago todo por esperanza

de mejorar mi familia y la raza.

Veo aman nuestras comidas,

y desprecian nuestras vidas.

Del Norte me ire

con ahorros y tendre

mejor futuro en mi patria.

y agusto vivire.

El desprecio no sentire,

de mi gente? Pura fratria.

Por ahora, regresaré a oficinas, labores y restaurantes en el Norte.

This is the first Spanish poem I ever wrote. I felt that it called for being written in Spanish to get the perspective of the person who decides to come North (Norte.)

My Worlds Collide

Posted on by Amada Acosta Addair in American Me, Wise Latina, Write here, write now

Ways to incorporate Mexican traditions into your holiday season.

Welcome to 2020 amigas and amigos. I am excited to come back from the holiday season renewed and ready to rock a new decade. How about you?

From reading my blog in the past you may know that I am an immigrant from Mexico who came to the US at a young age (6.) Over my lifetime as an American, I have assimilated into the mainstream, anglo culture. Perhaps a little too well. As a result, I oftentimes find it difficult to incorporate Mexican traditions into my holiday season.

This Christmas, I experienced the joy of having my parents in my home. That helped because when they are around, I feel more authentically Mexican. See, I don’t spend every Christmas with my parents. Every other year, they travel to Mexico during the holidays to see my paternal grandmother.

During the holidays when my parents are in the US, we make tamales. This has been a tradition for my family since I was a child so it absolutely helps to make me feel more authentically Mexican. But, this year, we did not make tamales. So, how did I end up feeling that this was my most authentically Mexican holiday season? Check it out…

Let the magic happen

As I shared earlier, my parents visited our home during the holidays. This was wonderful but can prove challenging. When my husband and I spend time with my parents, I become the de facto translator between them. I am not complaining. I enjoy nothing more than to help my parents communicate with the English speaking world. I have done that since my age was in the single digits.


But, as you can imagine, translating is mentally exhausting. Additionally, I don’t enjoy what happens when I serve as a translator in a conversation between my parents and my husband. It seems to me that when I am around, my parents speak to me and at my husband.

However, this wonderful thing happened, my worlds collided. I stepped away to my bedroom for a few moments and suddenly… Magic. Rather than relying on my translation skills, my parents and my husband began to communicate and interact with one another. My parents used their English speaking skills to converse directly with my husband.

It was wonderful. My husband instantly became more attentive and focused on what they had to say. The people I love the most were sharing in laughter and fun. I sat and listened to them for about ten minutes just talking with one another. I will treasure that memory always.

Explored other Mexican flavors

As you know, we did not make tamales this Christmas Eve. However, we did explore another Mexican delicacy. Beef tongue tacos.

This was a fun experience because we invited a few non-Latino friends to our home during our Christmas Eve celebration. Since I know that food likes are based on what people grow up with, I did have an alternative meat to the beef tongue (for a good recipe, click the link) that was more traditional American fare, ground beef. After all, my non-Latino husband does not like the idea of eating a beef tongue.

At least in my family, there are several philosophies about whether or not you should tell your non-Latinos guests that they are eating a beef tongue. My brothers just tells people it’s beef, shut up and eat it. On the other hand, I believe that full consent is necessary.

Now, don’t get me wrong, there is some value to just telling people it’s beef. For some reason the fact that it is a tongue freaks most non-Latinos out. But the reality is that beef tongue, when prepared correctly, is just as soft and tasty as beef filet. I personally find it weird that the same people who are grossed out by beef tongue are the same people who have no qualms with eating an American hot dog. But, I digress.

I notified my guests what was on the menu. I am happy to report that those that did try the beef tongue found it enjoyable. In addition to having a delicious taco bar, we played Spanish Christmas music all night. It was one of the best Christmas Eves we have had.

Found new holiday classics

One of my favorite things to do during the holiday season is enjoy all the holiday movies. From classics like Scrooged (yes, Bill Murray’s Scrooged is the best rendition of the Dickens classic and don’t tell me different or I will fight you) to the cheesy (this year’s fave? Netflix’s The Holiday Calendar), I love to watch them all.

This year I shared my new favorite (which I found last year thanks to a great Remezcla article) with my husband. Nothing Like the Holidays. It was a wonderful experience. My husband loved the movie as much as I did. We agreed that it would be added to the list of holiday classics we watch each year.

In sum, my holidays season was wonderful. Thanks to giving my family the opportunity to interact, I witnessed a beautiful moment between my husband and my parents. I found an alternative to the heavy work that tamales require by trying another Mexican foodie favorite, beef tongue tacos. And, I shared a great movie with my husband and son that also gave us some insight into the beautiful traditions that Puerto Ricans incorporate into their holidays. In sum, I was blessed.

How did you incorporate your family’s immigrant traditions into your life this holiday season?

Happy New Year

Posted on by Amada Acosta Addair in Write here, write now

Thank you for visiting me today. I am excited to share my thoughts with you in the coming months. I continue to work on my fiction project, Big Egos in the Little Apple.   Over the next few months I will use this blog for my nonfiction work.

I hope you will take time to visit me in the months to come. Over the next months, I will have general themes for each month; they are as follows:

January- Identity

February- Passion

March- Womanhood

April- Environment

May- Potential

June- Marriage

Please note that for me, this is a conversation I want to share with you. If something I write ignites your mind, let me know your thoughts on the matter. I would love nothing more than to connect.