The Search of My Life: A Memoir

By Norma I. Garcia

The Search of My Lifeis a true story about author Norma Garcia who spends most of her years experimenting through life to find true happiness and fulfillment. Her journeys however, prove only to be nothing but broken roads to emptiness. Until one night everything changes while sitting in her car. The answer is finally revealed, available for her to embrace it. But in order to receive the gift presented to her, Norma must let go of the very thing she loves the most...her life.

Beautifully written, this book addresses the heartbreaking realities of infidelity, abortion, and finally her faith in God. Although some life shattering events will shock you, such as challenges in her dysfunctional upbringing, dealing with a loved one plagued with addiction and reaping the consequences of her own choices, her story will nevertheless inspire you, bring you joy and awaken you with hope.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Sep 30, 2011
• ISBN: 9781426978876

Norma I. Garcia

Norma Garcia is a Christian painter, author, composer, and dancer. She is owner of Light in the Arts, a Christian Company offering her inspiring work, such as paintings, books, music, and dance performances. She has two wonderful children, Vanessa and Lionel and is currently living in California. Her desire is for people to experience God on a deeper level and her passion is to reveal His beauty through her creativity. She believes the Creative Arts is a powerful way to give hope, express God's love and share the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

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© Copyright 2011 Norma I. Garcia.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

Printed in the United States of America.

isbn: 978-1-4269-7885-2 (sc)

isbn: 978-1-4269-7886-9 (hc)

isbn: 978-1-4269-7887-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011912829

Trafford rev. 09/23/2011

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www.trafford.com

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Contents

Norma’s Acknowledgements

1

My Silly Desire

2

My Beautiful Disappointment

3

My Religion

4

My Hero

5

My Poverty

6

My Lover

7

My Double Life

8

My Wild Life

9

My House of Sorrows

10

My Entrepreneur Spirit

11

My Best Decision

12

My Spirituality

13

My Baby in Heaven

14

My Confession

15

My Freedom

16

My Radio Station

17

My Prince of Peace

A Simple Prayer

In memory of my son,

John who is in heaven

Norma’s Acknowledgements

There were times I wanted to quit, too many of them to count, but God’s faithfulness never failed me. He is the reason my story was written and finally completed.

Thanks to the California Writers Club for making resources available to me and for giving me the motivation I needed to begin writing again.

To the National Bestselling Series, A Cup of Comfort for Writers, Edited by Colleen Sell. Thank God for that soft cover, always within my reach during mornings I didn’t feel like being in front of my computer. The short stories, written by different authors were indeed my inspiration. I found myself in so many of them.

To my kids who were patient and supportive of me in writing this book. I love you Vanessa and Lionel. You two are my pride and joy.

To my strong-willed grandmother, Claudia Aroujo, who has always encouraged me to accomplish my goals and fulfill my dreams.

To my Mom, who believed in this book from the very beginning and for always uplifting me through the dry seasons.

Thank God for Christian television. I’m so grateful for networks such as TBN, Daystar and The Word that make preachers and other believers available on the air. They have brought needed encouragement throughout this project.

Thank you to the faithful ministers in the healing rooms at Valley Christian Fellowship in Apple Valley. They were always there to pray for me and uplift me.

Finally, to my favorite radio stations, Air1, K-Wave and many others that bring the message of the Gospel in relevant ways. Christian radio is what ushered me into a relationship with my Savior and now, into his presence on a daily basis. Because of them my life has never been the same.

Although this work contains descriptions of people in my life, many of their names and other identifying characteristics have been changed to protect their privacy.

And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb

and by the word of their testimony…

_Revelation 12:11

1

My Silly Desire

Have you ever had a lasting desire? Maybe it was beyond your reach like your wedding day or a conversation with your loved one who recently passed away. Have you ever wanted to escape to a secluded island where the cares of this life no longer burden you? Perhaps, it’s more innocent like a succulent banana split with peanuts sprinkled abroad and a sweet cherry on top. Our desires either drive us to divine connections or dunk us into utter despair. Nevertheless, they are our own and it is our personal obsessions that expose who we are to others and to ourselves.

My name is Difference and I too, had several desires in my life time. Some I’ve made come true while others, I learned to graciously ignore and suppress. I’ve had noble and good motives behind most of my ambitions, but some are not worthy to even mention. However, one particular longing I do care to reveal, still floats in my subconscious like tasting ice cream for the first time. It was an aching sensation that took a hold of me, as I stood in front of Columbus Elementary School at the age of seven.

While other kids lusted after doll houses and new pair of shoes, I desired a moment…a special event. A day, not just any day, but a day, when I’d finally see my mother’s station wagon parked in front of my school as I ran out of Mrs. Blackburn’s class room.

I suppose you never really desire something unless it’s taken away, especially when it rightfully belongs to you. Unfortunately, that’s what happened with me and my three siblings. Mom was taken from us when she met Rob in 1982. Apparently, he swept her off her responsible feet as a faithful mother to her children. Rob was her young prince, who later became a thorn to everybody’s side.

But who was to blame? It was Mom who left us with her stringent Aunt, an old woman who had trouble managing her moods. Aunt Raquel had her own complicated nature to deal with and raising four little girls on her own, only made things worse. Yet, she gladly accepted these terms and was even relentless to keep us under her guardianship. In fact, Mom did everything in her power to take us with her, but Aunt Raquel wouldn’t allow it. She was protecting us from Rob, a man she hardly liked or trusted, she would always say. Eventually, after years of arguing, Mom stopped trying and both of them reached some common ground in the end.

As for my Dad, let’s just say he was a lady’s man who liked keeping things in the shadows. Tall, handsome, smooth talker; Mom was crazy about him. He loved her too, in his way. They met when she was only fifteen and gullible. Dad on the other hand, was a serious go-getter. Eventually, they ran off and got married somewhere in Mexico, but their marriage was rocky from the beginning. Right away, he enlisted in the Army, leaving her with his parents while he was gone. Three kids later, I was the youngest; she left him for lack of support on his part and I’m sure, infidelity was the last straw. She moved in with Aunt Raquel when I was three and after that, I only seen him five times in my life.

Later on, when my parents separated, Mom started dating some white guy, but when she got pregnant, unfortunately, the relationship ended. He wasn’t interested in having children. She knew that, but things happened and he ran off, leaving her with three kids from her previous marriage and one on the way, all while living under Aunt Raquel’s roof and working a full time job.

It wasn’t so bad, though. Mom seemed happy, Aunt Raquel enjoyed helping out and I had nothing to complain about, until Rob popped into the picture, of course. He asked her out after flirting with her for several months at the work place…knowing she had four daughters at home. My little sister had just turned two.

The Sisters

Tradition was the oldest of the four. The sober minded one, who possessed a good head on her shoulders. She kept herself tidy and well organized too and had no problem abiding by the rules. Unlike myself, a natural born reformer who refused to accept things as they were.

Imagine my frustration as a little orphan. Although life screamed at me, YOU’RE NOT LOVED! YOU DON’T MATTER! YOU DON’T HAVE A MOM! YOU DON’T HAVE A DAD. I was determined to rise above the reproach and listen to my heart instead. I had dreams, high aspirations and yes, I fought and wrestled with those voices on purpose. My hopes for a better tomorrow protected me from the tidal waves of reality. The violent waves that wanted nothing more than to engulf me in self-pity. I stood firm against feeling worthless. But I suffered disappointment in the battle and somewhere along the path of childhood dysfunction, I lost little pieces of myself. Nevertheless, I knew there was something great inside of me. No one told me, I just knew it. And the only thing I wanted was to live it out and become more, only because everybody around me settled for less. Well, except for Andrea.

She was the second to the oldest. A rebel at heart, possessing strength and influence than most kids I knew. Quite frankly, it was her duty to speak the truth at all costs. Maybe she thought in order to speak truth one had to be abrasive. Perhaps it had greater impact. Either way, this challenging opponent had a mind of her own, possessing qualities opposite of my little sister Hope.

Hope was the youngest of the four with light brown hair and fair skin. As a child she wasn’t interested in the dramatic affairs of life. Instead, she was soft spoken and didn’t take herself too serious. This however, made her appear timid and sometimes mousy. While Tradition attended accordion recitals and Andrea enforced justice and I experimented with new hair styles, Hope only did what was expected. Yet, underneath it all, her staying power didn’t go unnoticed. She possessed a type of strength I knew was there. Like some hidden ability one detects from afar. Maybe she was masking it for a later time. All I know, Hope continued to shine and blossom as she matured into adulthood.

From a distance, this little sibling of mine looked to me for sisterly guidance. Sadly, I wasn’t aware of this until later, when we’d sit and talk about our past over coffee. Maybe I was too concerned with my own needs, since most of my time was spent outside with my friend Becky. I had many friends, one for each talent I possessed, but Becky was my next door neighbor and one of my best friends growing up. She had pink fatty cheeks and a big smile. I on the other hand, was tall and slender and too confident for my own good.

Yet, we had a lot in common. Music was our driving force. I’d dance and act out different Hollywood artists, while Becky directed our latest music videos. She’d always bring that old boom box outside with her and we’d listen to music until the sun would go down.

Funny isn’t it? Although, kids acquire their own personalities and quirky habits, most of them share the exact desires in childhood. Freedom, fun and more fun after that, I suppose. Things they assume would solve their problems and ease some internal pain. These fluffy wishes are probably requested more than any other ones during birthday parties and lighted candled cakes, I bet.

But that wasn’t the case for me. My desires as a child were very different from the average youngster. I wanted nothing more than to have Mom present and available, to feel normal and wanted. To be above reproach until all the bad was gone…until everything was perfect. When that would come to pass I thought, then I’d be happy.

Simple enough, right? After all, it was my birthright to want what other kids took for granted everyday. I was entitled to demand what was stolen from me as a child. But was that the missing piece? If I‘d gotten what I wanted, would that have brought restoration? Was I really longing for this or was it something else, something I didn’t even know existed, like a divine assignment to the gods? Or perhaps, it was nobler like serving and dying for a cause? Was it bigger than myself, my Mother or the validation of my peers and society? But what was it? Or who was it?

These answers seemed a million miles away. But being the tenacious child that I was, I began the search right away. I started with my Mom. Wanted to be certain if she was, indeed the one who’d make everything better. I grabbed my jacket from the school bus, jumped out of the rubbery staircases and ran home.

2

My Beautiful Disappointment

It was already cold and dark outside when Mom showed up to visit her girls. She didn’t completely abandon us, by the way. Her conscious didn’t allow her to run too far into the sunset with her lover. Mom’s visits were frequent. In fact, everyday after work she’d spend quality time with us, including weekends. But hours were limited until nine and sleep-overs were out of the question. Soon as she’d loose track of time, Rob would call the house, demanding for her to hurry home. I dreaded to hear that telephone go off like that. It sounded like an evil bell, screaming injustices in my ears, ruining all my fun.

But fun didn’t matter to me that night. I only wanted one thing, a request made known to Mom. However, getting her attention that evening turned out to be harder than I thought. A new bundle of joy accompanied her visit, you see. Little Blanca was born and she was there to introduce her to us. With the newcomer in town things looked almost impossible to have her to myself. I needed a strategy. So I stepped away for a moment until the excitement settled down.

As soon as Tradition took Blanca in her arms, I gave Mom a slight tug until she turned and smiled at me. She waited and quieted herself, but I froze and everything disappeared except her pretty eyes. I knew things needed to be communicated before the phone rang, so I cleared my throat to form a complete sentence.

Mom, can you pick me up tomorrow after school? My heart begins racing.

After school?

I nod, hoping to hear the three letter word beginning with Y, ending with S.

She looks confused, I can’t…I have to work tomorrow. She pauses. Sorry Difference.

I stand in front of her. Yes you can. On your lunch break, you can.

Difference, I can’t! I won’t have time, she tells me as if I had trouble hearing her the first time. Sorry baby. She gives me a gentle look and gradually directs her attention to my sisters.

I was trying my best to stay calm but my eyes were giving me away. Slowly, I walked to the far side of the room to sit on the couch. I felt devastated, but I didn’t want to hate my Mom, instead, I wanted to understand. But at seven years old, understanding wasn’t easy. She literally devalued the most important desire residing within me. Surely, she must have known what this symbolized. It was more than just a simple action after school. This would have demonstrated her love for me, her devotion and yes, it would have satisfied the void I felt inside.

After holding back the tears, I rested my head on the sofa, gently allowing my eyes to travel across the room. They landed on my new baby sister. I didn’t realize how beautiful she was. Her soft mild cry and Hope’s innocent giggles calmed me. Even the aroma of Aunt Raquel’s late night cup of coffee, soothed some of the rejection I was experiencing. As soon as I gained strength, Mom began walking towards me. Slightly, I straightened up.

Guess what Difference?

I stare at the stitching on the green rug. What?

I’m on vacation starting this Monday for a whole week.

I raise my head.

Do you know what that means?

I nod with some resentment still in tack.

It means I will be here everyday to spend time with you guys.

But you’re already here everyday, Mom.

I know. She smiles at me.

I pause, wait…next week is our school break.

Yup.

My eyes open wide. You’re coming in the morning?

"Everyday for that whole week. I’m gana take