“Sonia Yolanda” was the name of my childhood best friend.  We were besties from elementary all the way through high school. We were attached at the hip, hanging out during school and lunch recess and then following up for some more camaraderie after school!  We would spend endless afternoons playing, talking, gossiping (depending our age) but always with the Beatles playing in the background.  Our time together went from playing with dolls to talking about who we were in love with.  We were also creative, we would write heartfelt love poems to our potential husbands- Paul McCartney was my fiancé, John Lennon was hers.   Both of us would spend our time fantasizing about how our wedding day was going to be like.  We would go into great details about what our wedding dress was going to look like- mine had a train-like veil that would cascade waaaay beyond me.  Of course I would wear beautiful high, sparkling heels. We would even determine how many layers our wedding cake would have and what flavor it would be.  Naturally, we would talk about where we would spend our honeymoon. However, details regarding about what we would do with our fiancé once the deal was sealed was all pretty benign… I think today’s tv commercials are way more racy than what our minds could ever muster.  We were so innocent.

Sonia and I also determined how many kids we would have- what gender they would be and what their names would be.  I started loving my kids while they were still stars in the sky.  It is hard to explain but they were ageless, faceless, genderless- but I knew that love was within me for them specifically since as long as I could remember.

And now poof!  One day I went to sleep and I woke up and all the wedding day, honeymoon, bedroom discoveries, kids all came to fruition!  Life just HAPPENED!  It seems (and feels) that it just all slipped past- like the cliché hour glass full of sand… It seems like it was all a dream!  But unlike a dream, it was all REAL.  And I have wonderful and heavy memories of all of it.

But there was one detail that Sonia and I never discussed and that was the rite of passage called “Becoming a Grandmother.”  I am not a new grandmother- I have four grandsons: Diego, 17, Raul, 13, Camilo, 13, and Joaquin, 11.  I absolutely love being a grandmother, and I am no common grandma by the way.  I do not wear a bun, I wear a Japanese churro;  I do not bake cookies for them, but I do take them for out for fancy dinners; I don’t knit their winter sweaters, but I do provide them with cash they need to get clothes J;  I used to tell them stories like a “classic” grandma, but now I try to give them financial advice and what I call “Abuela Talks.”  FYI, Abuela Talks are conversations that I have with them where I sneak in counseling advise and try to get them to talk to me about any of their concerns…. The trick to these talks is not letting them know or realize that we are getting to some nitty gritty info- the hope is that they walk away feeling loved and heard.

I have tried to put into words why this “grandmother” stage is so special.  When I ask other grandparents this question- why is it so satisfying, why is it so wonderful to be a grandparent?  The response usually is “Because you can enjoy them and then give them back to their parents.”  Well, I disagree with this.  I think it’s way more profound than that.  I try to articulate what I feel, it’s hard.  I think that I see my grandkids as an extension of myself- they carry my DNA- they are part of me- I am responsible for yet another generation on this planet.  But this time, I can do things for them that I didn’t have the maturity or wherewithal to do for my own kids.  Maybe I couldn’t do these things for my kids because 1) I was too busy making a living for us, 2) I was too preoccupied with my ex-husband and our drama, 3) I didn’t have the EXPERIENCE I do now.  As parents, you are certain things for your kids- as grandparents, you are and do something else for your grandkids.  It’s just the way the cookie crumbles.   When you become a grandparent, you have lived life and all its facets: love, loss, bliss, despair etc…  and then poof!  You have a certain peace in your heart that you just don’t have when you are parenting.  It’s a beautiful thing that this is how it works.  And because we have this love and heartfelt peace, we can impart that to the grandkids…. Even if they do make fun of our accents, or how we dress, or how we can’t use our iphones!

My grandkids are the cherry on top of this life cake I have…. I wish I were still in touch with Sonia to talk about this phase with her- I wonder if she still is in love with John Lennon?

Let me know who your Sonia Yolanda was in your life by emailing me at Guada755@outlook.com

Guadalupe Goler

For very personal reasons, I love the month of August. I love the way the word sounds, very breathy and sexy.  I love the even, round design of the number 8 (especially coupled with the number 20). I love the weather we get in Santa Fe during this month- cool, crisp mornings, hot sun in the middle of the day, overcast and cool in the afternoon, temperate in the evening…. Perfect for outdoor conversations.  I even love the history of the word “August” as it derives from the Latin word, “Augustus,” which means great and venerable.  It sounds so royal and important to me.   In fact, in 8 BC, the Roman State honored Augustus Caesar, the First Roman emperor, by changing the name of the month from “Sextilis” (the sixth month in the Julian calendar) to “Augustus,” (now known as the eighth month of the Gregorian calendar).  Ha!  Just a little history for you!

But I’ll be honest.  The real reason why I love the month of August is because it is when my birthday falls!  I am a Leo through and through after all!  I get to celebrate my birthday all month long which I often DO though it wasn’t always like that.  Sometimes I think I am making up for all the birthdays that I wasn’t able to celebrate as a child.  You see, when I was a kid we barely made note of birthdays in the family.  We couldn’t because there were too many of us!!

Still, not celebrating my birthday did NOT make me feel unwanted.  I knew that when the 20th of August came around, my parents were grateful and celebratory in their own way.  After my Mother’s second child, she had a miscarriage and the doctors told her that she would never have children again.  My parents continued trying (as you naturally do).   Being told they could have no more children made them desperately WANT to have more…. and poof, I was born!  My parents told me that they saw me as a miracle (I am a Leo) and that is why they named me Guadalupe after the Virgin Guadalupe.  Apparently, the doctors were wrong because my mother ended up having seven children total!  And believe it or not, we are ALL still alive.   I actually believe that is a miracle in and of itself!

I am not ashamed to say that I make a big deal out of my birthday!  Why not?!  I LOVE it!  I love receiving calls from all over the world from the people I love.  This fills me with warmth and joy.  I am not shy about it!  When my father was alive, he would always be the first to call me on the day of my birthday.  I loved it.  It would set the tone for the day!  After he passed away, my oldest sister took on that role of being the first to call and wish me goodness on my birthday.  I am always so grateful for everyone that takes the time to call me, share cake with me or even to take a shot of tequila with me on my birthday!  I am lucky.

Still, to this day, like anyone else . . . . there’s always that one person that I need to call me.   For some reason it means SO much to me to hear from this singular person and it can make or break my day if I don’t.  This person is my son.  He is my world!  Of course, he is.  That is what our kids are to us!  I can have all the celebration and companionship in the world but if my son is not there or not part of it, I cannot enjoy it as well.  Call it a Mexican thing if you want!  Ask any Mexican mother how she feels about her son calling on her birthday and she will say the same thing.  Until he calls, nothing else matters!  We are extremists maybe but we love our sons!

I remember one particular birthday, my son was living in Brazil and I was missing him very much.  I was anxiously waiting for his call.  Every time the phone would ring, I would drop everything thinking that it would be him on the other end.  Every time a bouquet of flowers was brought (Leo’s love flowers), I would open the card expecting a loving note from my son.  This birthday it was not him calling or sending flowers.  I waited, giving him time.  He was in Brazil after all and he did have a family he was attending to. I was patient.  He never did make himself apparent that day, but I clearly forgave him because I did not KILL him for not calling me!!!

The truth is that, of course, I forgave my son.  He was busy.  I am often number one on his list but I cannot always be even if we are Mexican!  We ALL get busy.  Important moments pass without celebration.  Were they that important?  What is meaningful?  Those who do show up?  Those who tried to be there?  Those who are always there but that one day they got wrapped up in their own lives?  I have matured in my thoughts and in my feelings (we eventually try to do that!) and in a sense I was very “young’” in my need to hear from my son that day.    He has his life.  He is doing his best at it.  He has (and on that day already had) his own two sons he was being present for.  He may not have not called me that day (nor sent me flowers nor a Mariachi to serenade me) but he was there for his own family.  In a way that is a gift in and of itself.

As I get older, even though it’s hard for a Leo, I TRY to be less self-centered and I try to be more of a centered self.   I try to be aware myself.  Am I being considerate with my own Mother or with my own siblings, kids and friends?  No, of course not.  I am not always the FIRST to call you on your birthday either.  I hope you forgive me.

I did make my son tattoo an 08/20 on his arm.

Just kidding!

Happy Birthday to me!  As always, please drop me a message telling me what your birthday means to you!

Guada755@outlook.com

It deeply affects me when I hear about someone getting a divorce or breaking up from a long relationship.  When I hear this, I KNOW the person is going through a profound crisis.  Inevitably I go back to my own break-ups and I remember how people would talk to me.  They would look at me lovingly and sorrowfully saying, “I’m SO sorry.”  It would not be what I wanted to hear.   Instead they should have said, “Welcome to a new chapter in your life!!!”  Breakups and divorces whether romantic, work or friendship associated are always opportunities.  “What does the Universe have holding for me now?” It is helpful to remember that every relationship in our lives serves as a life lesson. Every single person who has passed through our lives has contributed to our growth.

When a relationship ends, our soul literally goes into a crisis mode. I imagine that if you were to take an X-ray of our soul when we are broken, it would be twisted and injured, swollen and hurt.  But when we are in love, I imagine that our souls undergo a similarly drastic change.  It glows.  It is warm and energetic.  Being in love is also like taking an irresistible cocktail of emotions…And I thought tequila was bad…

The Chinese character for the word CRISIS is composed by two words overlapping that describe the situation.   “In Every Crisis Lies the Seed of Opportunity.” We do feel overwhelmed and devastated with loss. The feelings that come to surface deeply hurt us. We only see the time WE have invested in this relationship but we seem to forget that our investment was done by the other party, too. The loss goes both ways.

This makes me think of an expression that I heard when I first moved here …. How does that expression go?  It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all?  Yes, that’s it. That’s very much it!

IF YOU HAVE COMMENTS EMAIL ME DIRECTLY… GUADA755@OUTLOOK.COM

I LOVE TO HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS

My lips are puckered up like duck lips.  My hair sways back and forth mimicking my hips.  My eyes are sultry bedroom eyes. This is not Marilyn Monroe in “Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend”.   This is just ME! My imagination runs wild when I dance.  I visualize myself moving like a character in a movie – but this is a secret. Please don’t tell anyone that I go into this trance.  Music on the Hill in Santa Fe is the perfect stage for me to fall into my trance-like dance state. I look around and I can see that I’m not the only one feeling the music, twisting, twirling and making sexy faces. It seems to me that the people around me are into their own trance-like dance.

Ohhh, yeaahhh. They start playing a Brazilian samba, one of my favorite rhythms! Here I come to dance!! As I walk out to the dance area, I transform into a Carioca Brazilian Dancer. I don my beautifully embellished costume with feathers coming out of my headdress and my ass! I don’t care if I poke somebody’s eye with them. All of us in the dance area are twisting and writhing in our own ecstasy. The afternoon is stunning. And by stunning I mean a typical sunset in Santa Fe –  little bits of blues and pinks filtering through the rays of sunlight.  It’s so damn beautiful that it’s cheesy! On these dance days we all love each other, call each other “sweetie,” “darling,” and “baby”.  Now the Brazilian music changes to a classic song from the 70’s, Aquarius…….Aquariusssss!!

I remember when I arrived in the US in the 70’s, people would dance to all the peace lovin’, groovy tunes.  Back then I was scandalized that women would be braless.  Their breasts would move up, down, and all over around. And men didn’t even wear underwear! This was not the time for Victoria’s Secret and definitely not the time for stilettos.  Today most of us are dancing barefoot, feeling the grass in between our toes and letting our imagination have us believe that we are a reincarnated combination of Marilyn Monroe and free spirited sex fiend from the 70’s.

I feel raindrops.  It’s time for me to leave. As I walk toward my friends, I leave a trail of my imagination of characters behind me. I’m sharing this secret with you because I know MY SECRET is safe with you!!!

IF YOU WANT TO SHARE YOUR OWN STORIES WITH ME, VISIT MY BLOG, J4KICKS.COM OR EVEN BETTER, COME AND SEE ME AT THE STORE.

I’m not sure what’s going on in Santa Fe but… I feel there is an extraordinary amount of bad ass women that live here! It seems that all of my friends and even the women that I just meet in the shoe store, are empowered, hard working, successful, intelligent, deep thinking and feeling women! And of course they all have good taste in shoes! Is it just me that notices this phenomenon? Does Santa Fe have some powerful energetic magnet that draws incredible women here?

The drawback that I noticed about this however is that there are too many amazing women and too few men to match them in this town. You all know this too: there are way too many single women here! While we women are great at satisfying and fulfilling one another with our friendship, we need our counterparts (I.e. the opposite sex) to balance us out and to connect with. There MUST be men here who are equally as extraordinary! And I don’t mean exclusively for relationships but for true friendships as well. Gay men count for this too!

I feel like about 10 or 15 years ago, I had some incredible friendships with outstanding men here. They were deep thinking, loving, emotionally connected, and very masculine men. And no, no I’m not talking about lovers! These guys were just my friends! It was so wonderful to have them in my life, bouncing off ideas and experiences with one another. … I guess you could say they were platonic lovers, lovers of life and of exploring experiences together. . One by one they started vanishing, either they got into serious relationships or they literally just disappeared! Sadly, a couple of my closest friends passed away.

I have nostalgia for those friendships. They were very satisfying.

Where are these men? Are you at Home Depot? In the galleries? Stuck in Starbucks? Or are you off on some spiritual retreat with no return? In any case, we women miss you! Come back! We are thirsty for these friendships… there is a severe drought.

My Mother.  She’s like an illuminated two-story house glowing white, grounded on a hill on the top of my mind.

Both mi Madre and my home are clean and orderly smelling of Mexican house cleaner- do you know that smell? I love it!! Ask any Mexican. It is the coziest ever! This house of my Mother in my mind’s eye is very white; it almost glistens.  The windows are always open because it is warm outside with the curtains flowing in the soft breeze. This house has many rooms and each one is filled with light. I can always find my Mother in this house.

My Mother is 87 years old and little by little, the light in each individual room has been starting to dim as her health has also been dimming. I have witnessed her lights going out; sometimes suddenly, sometimes gradually.  When one of the lit rooms extinguishes I say to myself, “Oh no. That room doesn’t have light anymore! But this white house still glows for me; my Mother is still there for me.”  I often feel scared.  I wonder if my children, now adults, see me the same way as I see my Mother.  Am I the same strong, warm, illuminated foundation for them?  Will my lights start going out eventually?

Although my Mother is fading into the darkness of dementia and Alzheimer’s, I can still call on her and she is still thrilled to talk to me even though she does not know not how old I am, where I am or what I am doing.  She is still perfectly glowing, warm and orderly for me.  Her voice will always be my home. The front porch light still shines.

Tell me about your Mother.  Write me at

Guada755@outlook.com