Mi Familia
My Parents: Maria and Steve.
My mom was born and raised in Nicaragua. She moved here when she was 12 years old. She came to live with family friends and went to school in Arcadia. After graduating high school and she attended Pasadena City College where she was a nursing major. Since then she has raised me and my sister, Michelle. My mom also provides in home elderly care to families with disabled relatives. If there is one word that describes my mom its giving. There's one thing that my mom does better than anything and that's provide, for anyone and everyone at whatever cost to herself. I sometimes think that if it were possible, she could really be everybody's mother, she'd be extremely good at it!
My dad was born and raised in sunny Southern California. He is a native to the Pasadena - San Marino community. He attended San Marino High School and graduated. He then attended Cal State Los Angeles. He currently owns his own business (18years), he is an expert witness in securities compliance. My dad has always enjoyed new ventures, and can always be found trying new things. His current hobby is Habanero pepper growing. Before that it was restoring classic cars. I can attribute my (long since deceased) 1965 Ford Mustang to that particular phase. If one word can describe my dad its inventive. He always has a creative solution to any problem and can create and solve almost anything. I'd like to think that if he were better with names, he'd have a pretty good shot at ruling the world! I wonder what kind of title that would get me?
My sister, Michelle, was born one dark and foggy night when lightning struck and thunder sounded, when the wind blew and the wolves howled and zombies walked the streets in search of who knows what. And you know, I'm almost sure the world stopped and missed a full rotation the evening Michelle was born. She's 5 years younger than me, and even though she's 18, she'll always be 5 in my eyes. We used to have fun growing up (when she wasn't being a pest). I'll never forget the days when we would hop on our motorcycles (10 speed bikes) and ride off into the night (noon time) in search of someplace new and exciting (the far end of the backyard) in hopes of finding a new and exotic land (the area behind the garage). And how that funny kid acquired this strange liking or taste if you will for "rolly-polly" bugs... no idea how that came about... SICK-O! For a little kid she was so different. She could do a perfect impression of the Cowardly Lion from the Wizard of OZ and keep us laughing for hours, or when she would say silly things at the worst times and have them fit the most inappropriate situations ("well blow me down!"). If there's one way to describe Michelle, it would be to call her different. And to understand that one must know her.
My grandparents are Alice and Don. I remember growing up at my grandma's house, She would read to me and take me to the San Marino Toy and Book store (mostly book store). There She would buy me paper dolls and books and we would come home and I would sit at the kitchen table and cut and paste my new paper dolls of different eras into their old Victorian and modern clothes. My grandpa is the outdoorsy type. He built me a sand box, which I played in. On hot days we would sit at the edge of the lawn in our bathing suits with the sprinklers on and eat peanuts, throwing the shells onto the lawn. I sometimes would help him in the garden, and before it was invaded by slugs we would occasionally clean out the hot tub for later that night when the family would come for dinner.
Uncle Ken, or affectionately know as "boo-boo-ninny. I'm not sure where the term came from but it sure is funny to say. I can remember being little and calling him a boo-boo-ninny repeatedly and was repeatedly called one in return. I can also remember my mom and dad telling us to calm down... a lot. If there's one way to describe Uncle, its "boo-boo-ninny"
Great-grandpa Harry. I never really had the pleasure of really getting to know my great-grandpa, but I do have a few memories. One of my more vivid ones takes place in the last place he ever lived, the condo in Lake San Marcos, CA. I remember wanting to go onto the patio (which was a balcony) and watch the humming birds. My great-grandma was protesting it and I'm sure everyone else was also (that parts foggy), but he let me go out there and watch them with his binoculars. People tell me he was kind and gentile, and my great-grandma used to brag about how smart and crafty he was, I have no doubt that it's all true.
"Great Marj," lived to be 100 1/2 years old! We always knew she would. Great Marj was a very interesting woman, probably the last in a generation of housewives to never work a day in her life. When I was younger we would take trips out to her condo in Lake San Marcos to visit with her. We would have lunch and then walk down to the lake to feed the ducks (loaves of bread, new and old). There was one particular duck she would always make a point to look for and that was a very large, very good looking white duck whom she called "loud mouth." I remember her telling me that that's what great-grandpa Harry called him. Toward the end of her days she would talk of nothing but her 100th birthday party, and would tell everyone who would listen that she was going to be 100 and was getting a new party dress for the occasion. She was very excited to be having a party in which people would be coming from afar to see her. It was a lovely luau, and we were glad she was able to say "I'm a hundred!"
