Because February is well know for it’s connection to lovers, I wanted to dedicate my writing efforts to the subject of dating and finding love at any age.
Let’s be honest here, although I don’t want to appear too cynical, the fact is that Valentine’s Day is a Hallmark invented occasion to celebrate romantic love and to bring business to flower arrangers, candy stores, jewelers and stationary/greeting card shops.
I tossed and turned most of last night tormented by the dark atmosphere that seems to be overtaking our country. I feel anger, fear, disappointment and dread. I also seem to be spending a large amount of my waking hours fighting back the urge to live in the imaginary confines of my hopelessness.
Now that President Trump has officially taken his oath of office, there are many who are hopeful he will follow through on his promise to build the “Wall” on our southern border. Sadly, other than this particular strategy, you don’t hear much more about immigration reform these days.
In the spring of 1994, my father disowned me. My crime was that I went to work for Colorado’s Democratic Governor Roy Romer after he had chosen me as his chief of the Colorado Department of Transportation. This political divide between my father and I is emblematic of what is happening to a much larger scale within our country.
No matter how you perceive the results of this last presidential election, one thing is certain; President Elect Trump’s ascension to power will bring about a monumental change to our United States and probably the world.
The quirky thing about change, whether one considers the nature of what catalyzed it to be good or bad, is that it can become the source of immense stress. I call this phenomenon the “What do we do now syndrome”.
I always get a bit melancholic as I notch the passing of another year on my life belt. I remember as a young boy how long and tedious our planet’s orbiting around the sun for three hundred and sixty five consecutive days could seem. Now, the years whisk by me like a cool summer’s breeze.
With Christmas Day fast approaching, I am reminded of the paradox that holidays can be in our lives, especially for those of us who have lived with a complex relationship with our parents. On the one hand, these are the times we share with our families to celebrate the love and gratitude we hold for one another. On the other hand, these are the very occasions that revive the hidden pains of growing up in a difficult environment and so we dread the holidays because of the angst we feel towards the very people we hold responsible for our suffering. For this reason, I wanted to write about how I managed to find forgiveness for my parents and, in so doing, become a happier person
By way of introduction, my name is Guillermo Vicente Vidal. There are many titles I have been given which identify my life. I am a youngest son, rebellious teenager, athlete, boyfriend, college graduate, husband, father, stepfather, divorcee, civil engineer, unemployed, government bureaucrat, executive director, political appointee, manager of public works, deputy mayor, mayor, CEO, and now, of course, old man. Yet, the title I most identify with is that of Cuban immigrant.