Thursday, August 22, 2013

Mother's Day Take 2

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Captain Imperfecto and Mimie

May 12th, 2013

When my kids lost their mother a year ago I thought to myself - How the hell am I going to do this?   

Where would I find someone to help me raise my sons in a respectable manner. Someone who would love them as much as I love them. Who could I turn to for answers to my questions. God, I’m going to fail miserably.   

I couldn’t feel sorry for myself for long. After all the boys needed diaper changes, clothing and food. They needed me to provide for them because they weren’t going to do it themselves. I thought I would at least find some help from my family to help guide me in the ways of a parent.   

But that help never came. I found out quickly I would have to learn as I go and use the tools I had gained by helping out with the kids with my wife, Mimie. But I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. After all, she was a well educated stay at home mom. And she had the boys on schedule.   

Before she passed away, the boys were fed by 1730 hours (5:30pm to you) and in bed by 1930 hours (7:30 pm).  I use military time because thats how well streamlined she was with the schedule making. And even though I worked primarily in military time, I couldn’t couldn’t keep the time as well organized as her.    

In the weeks after her death, it was food when we were hungry and bed time at whenever time. But I couldn’t help it. I was down and felt sorry for myself. I didn’t know what the hell to do. I was in shambles and there wasn’t a damn person around to help me figure it out. I was on my own.   

Realizing that I was on my own, I knew I would have to get some kind of structure going for my boys. After all, kids need structure to grow and build on. And the new foundation would start now. But how would I go about pouring a new foundation? Where would this structure go. I felt so bad that I couldn’t be the mother and father the kids needed. I quickly thought about the millions of single parents out in the world today.   

I am a product of a single parent. My dad had help though. But if he could raise 4 kids, as well of the countless of others I met on the job as a police officer, well then I could do it to. My boys needed me and I needed my boys.    

I had no choice but to be their dad and their mother. I would discipline them when they were bad. I would console them when they were sad. I would listen to them when they were in need of an ear to hear their fears. I would be the one they’d turn to when the needed someone the most. I would be both parents they so needed.
    
Sadly though, when I would build the “can do” attitude inside my mind and physically become strong enough to face the world and my reality, my mind would then realize how my boys needed their mom, which the thought of that would send me crashing down into my reality, of my children, being motherless, and I would feel crushed and send myself back to square one.   

As the months passed I would tend to my boys the way any parent would do with the basics needs that every human needs. And slowly the traction would begin to take hold as we built ourselves up into the direction that we could only go- up.   

Now a year has gone by and we are spending our second Mother’s Day without their mother. And as you can expect it is not easy. Our life is slowly weaving through the ins and outs of the good times and bad times, the good days and bad days and the fun days and boring days but I am still consistent on the love I share with them because the love I have is for 2.   

I figured out that I knew and loved my wife for 14 years. And that if anyone knew her best it was me. I know how to love because I loved their mom. And I know how to love like their mom, because their mom loved me. So in a way I knew how to love for 2.    

When the boys come crying to me because they are hurt or sick, I love them how their mom would love them. Because thats how she loved me, when I was down. When the boys want to be showered with joy for their accomplishments, I jump for joy, as would their mom, because she cheered for me with all the joy and love one would, when they love someone, does.    

And so it goes from one Mother’s Day to another. As the years turn in to another, I think about how their mother would love them today? And I go with my heart.    

Happy Mother's Day Mimie. Hug our twin daughters, Sophia and Gabriella for me.   



The Adventures of Captain Imperfecto© is a registered copyright, 2012-2013 
"All Rights Reserved"    

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The Adventures of Captain Imperfecto is a registered copyright, 2012-2013
"All rights reserved"



Creative Commons License

The Adventures of Captain Imperfecto/Born Again by Christopher P. Fusaro is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at christopherfusaro.blogspot.com.


Bon Appetite

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Left to right: Christopher and Nico crashing on dads favorite chair

August 22nd, 2013

I’ve been choking on my food lately and I don’t know what the hell is going on. This must be a single parent phenomenon because taking food into my stomach has never been such an issue my whole life before I had the kids. It has only happened now, that I am alone, taking care of the boys. Just the other day I almost fucking died by choking to death and not one person helped me when I practically inhaled a sandwich.

I sat down for lunch during my lunch hour. And this time I was alone with no kids or other people at my table. I try to savor any food when I eat alone because I normally can’t enjoy it  when I’m with Nico (the oldest son at 5 and Christopher, the baby at 3).

I took my time and ordered off the menu enjoying the lack of planning I normally have to do. This time I was getting an appetizer that was just form me. Peel and eat shrimp. Which I could never order with the boys present. The shrimp came to my table, 12 in all and they were nicely spread out over ice cubes that were evenly laid a very large diameter bowl. On the sides of htis dish was garnished with parsley, lemon and cocktail sauce. I couldn’t wait to dig in.  

I slowly and methodically peeled the first shrimp. I held the main tail with my thumb and index finger. Pulled off the tail and skinned the shell off the reaminder of its body. I dunked the cooke shrimp in a coctail sauce mixed with lemon. It was a heveanly treat that was mine to enjoy.

If the boys were present at my lunch I could never have indulged in such a reat out of fear for all the shrimp residue clinging to my hands. Just trying to maintain the boys within arms reach would be disasterous because their shirts would have been covered in the shrimp skeleton from my constant grabbing at them to place them back to their seats.

After devouring the shrimp, that tasted better to me,  then any fish in the sea that would seek this treat out from a fisherman’s hook, I ordered the dolphin (Maui Maui) sandwich, baked of course. I ordered with a baked potato. I couldn’t wait. This was my every other weekend delight since I work every other weekend. 

I usually go to a local restaurant while working, during my lunch hour to enjoy a quite meal all to myself. Sometimes I feel guilty enjoying such pleasure of a fine meal with out my children but I have learned to love the quite and the food when I’m alone. Hell, I think the food tastes a little better at times when I’m alone.

By the time my meal comes out I’ll be just finishing up my appetizer. I have that scenerio worked out to a science so that  when the food comes out it's hot and fresh when I dive right into it. My salvia glands know it’s a hot meal and I can feel them working overtime by the flow of it accumulating in my mouth. It’s very rare I get a hot meal and my body knows it.

For some reason I didn't savor the taste of this meal. I tried to woof it down without hesitation. Maybe it’s a habit I have become accustomed to now by rushing down my food before my kids finish theres. You see, when I run around the house preparing their meal and getting them settled down to eat, and right after I feed the dogs, I’ll head to the kitchen and stand by the stove and practically inhale my food. No tasting it, no time for the burns in my mouth, just consuming the fuel that will keep me going. And this is when I choke slightly all the time!

Multiple times I have taken a bite of food and it would find its way down my windpipe. I'll start to cough uncontrollably but usually I'll manage to work it out and like clock work, I'll continue on with my connoisseur rampage. But this day at the restaurant, I almost didn’t recover.

I took a very large bite of my fish sandwich today and I practically inhaled every crumb that tried to escape my wrath. My deep breath breaking off a fold of bread that swirled its way around my inner mouth where it landed as gently as leaf on my airway.
Immediately I couldn’t breathe. I gasped for air but there was none of it to rush in. I clutched the sides of my table bracing myself from falling over. I tried at will to cough it out of my airway, but nothing. I was afraid it was stuck, I tried to think. I couldn’t ask for help because I couldn't talk. I quickly thought of the international sign of choking and thought I grab my neck. But I was in police uniform and thought that would be embarrassing. So dying was the alternative?

Tears of water streamed from my eyes. I didn’t know what to do. I frantically looked around looking for help, hoping someone had answers to my predicament. However, no one was paying attention. Everyone was enjoying the company in which they kept. They were eating their food, enjoying their spirits. I was fucked.

I closed my yes and took a breath of air through my nose. AIR! I could breathe. I opened my mouth but I still couldn't get air in my body that way. The fresh oxygen to my brain that breathing through my nose provided me time to think more clearly. I told myself. Breathe in and out through your nose. There you go. In and out. In and out. Nice and calm

After 30 seconds my oxygen levels began to return normal. The blockage in my throat cleared. I could be normal again. Not one person looked my way the entire time. But I didn’t care. I could breathe.

“Could I get you a refill,” the waitress said.

“No,’ I said with a raspy voice. “The check please.”

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yes, the food is so good, it made me cry,” I said.

The waitress began to laugh and walked away.

I sat in the seat and wondered how my food habits tuned so deadly. But I had little time to reflect on my incident since my lunch time was dwindling I had a whole sandwich to devour before I had to get back to work.

You hear of sports figures choking in the big games. I never knew my eating habits would be such a hazard to myself causing me to choke on the big stage. Bon appetite.

Written on Auguest 21st, 2013
Published on August 21st, 2013

© Copyright 2013 Captain Imperfecto, LLC. All rights reserved.


- See more at: http://www.captainimperfecto.com/blog_details.php?


blog_id=185#sthash.KZTFjls2.dpuf


The Adventures of Captain Imperfecto is a registered copyright, 2012-2013
"All rights reserved"



Creative Commons License

The Adventures of Captain Imperfecto/Born Again by Christopher P. Fusaro is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at christopherfusaro.blogspot.com.