This week, Gran’pa gets asked what he thinks about rap music and tattoos. What does he advise? Check it out:
http://youtu.be/kqKBDFlIHrw
William D. Caballero is a NYC/NJ-based filmmaker, composer, and multimedia storyteller. His most recent comedic short film, “HOW YOU DOIN,’ BOY? VOICEMAILS FROM GRAN’PA,â€Â features 3D modeled/printed miniatures of his grandfather. That project has developed into the weekly web series, “Gran’pa Knows Best.â€
Friends. Where would any of us be without our friends? They’re our shoulders to cry on, our favorite ones to laugh with, and some of the people who love us the most in this world. Some friendships are for a lifetime, and others just make cameo appearances for a chapter or two. Something my mother has always stressed is honesty and open communication. As she likes to say:
“Cuentas claras conservan amistades.”
(Not exactly translated: Proper accountability preserves friendships.)
Basically, what this does is emphasize the need for transparency in a friendship. Always make sure things are in the clear, whether it be something that bothered you, or owing someone $5. People have falling outs over the most minimal to the most majorly horrific things. My friends laugh at me when I pay them back $2 and tell me I’m being ridiculous.
My mother would’ve had a much more difficult time with us as children had it not been for her friends. It’s true that it takes a village to raise a child, and now I see that with my own friends. Not every friend is meant for the long haul, and that’s ok. Typically the ones that stay are the best ones to keep, and the ones who go were fun while they lasted. But, in the end, I always have my mom, and I couldn’t ask for a better friend than that.
Besides, she’s funny and drinks like a champ!
Victoria Moll-Ramirez is a broadcast journalist based in Atlanta, GA. She is originally from Miami, FL and had the great fortune of being raised by the sassiest, spunkiest, wisest, most hysterical Honduran woman in the world. Victoria’s mother, Bélgica, is 60-years-old, resides in Little Havana (Miami) and enjoys a good margarita accompanied by a heartrending ranchera. Victoria blogs about her mom’s funny and wise sayings on, “In My Mother’s Words.â€
William Caballero’s most recent comedic short film, “HOW YOU DOIN,’ BOY? VOICEMAILS FROM GRAN’PA,” features 3D modeled/printed miniatures of his grandfather. That project has developed into the weekly web series, “Gran’pa Knows Best.” Follow along on Wiser With Age as Gran’pa gives advice on various topics.
http://youtu.be/E80S7phn9ew
William D. Caballero is a NYC/NJ-based filmmaker, composer, and multimedia storyteller. Born in Coney Island, NY and raised in North Carolina, he obtained the prestigious Bill Gates Millennium Scholarship, and returned to NYC where he graduated from Pratt Institute (2006) and New York University (MA, 2008).
I have a tendency of being a bit of a dweller. I think about things and analyze them time and time again. Frankly, it’s borderline torturous. Many times the person forced to listen to me and my “what ifs,” “could haves” and “should haves” is my wonderful mother. When she gets to a point where she thinks I truly need to get over it, she says,
“Ay, Victoria! Olvidate de ese tango y baila bolero.â€
(Direct translation: Oh, Victoria! Forget that tango and dance bolero.)
No, I do not tango as I am telling my mother the 34,987,349 scenarios going through my head. Basically, what this means is forget about it and move on. Nothing can be done to change the past. As cliché as it sounds, you can only move forward.
My mother has always pushed forward. She left her country, and pushed forward. She raised two kids on her own, with no family around, and pushed forward. In 2015, I’m going to do a better job of pushing forward.
A new year is a new opportunity. Some things will be great, and others will not be so great. When they’re not so great, just remind yourself to move on. Forgive yourself, and move forward.
In 2015, I hope to do a little less tangoing and a lot more bolero-ing. It seems to be working for my mom just fine.
Victoria Moll-Ramirez is a broadcast journalist based in Atlanta, GA. She is originally from Miami, FL and had the great fortune of being raised by the sassiest, spunkiest, wisest, most hysterical Honduran woman in the world. Victoria’s mother, Bélgica, is 60-years-old, resides in Little Havana (Miami) and enjoys a good margarita accompanied by a heartrending ranchera. Victoria blogs about her mom’s funny and wise sayings on, “In My Mother’s Words.â€
The one thing my mother truly laments about her life is not being able to get an education. Being a woman from a third world country made this incredibly difficult for her. She’s always said if she would’ve been given the opportunity she would’ve been a teacher.
This is one thing, among many others, my mother never wanted us to feel. She never wanted us to lament not having an education. Frankly, my brother and I didn’t have a choice. As kids, I remember her always telling us:
“Tú vas hacer abogada y Renecito va ser un médico.”
(You’re going to be an attorney, and René is going to be a doctor.)
For the record, neither of us became either of those but her whole point was to ingrain the idea of higher education in our minds. I thought this was the norm. I thought this is what everyone was told at home. I was wrong. I was also incredibly lucky.
Having raised us by herself she talked to us about a lot of intense topics early on. One of those included what she wanted for us if she passed away before we finished our schooling. These were always her words to us:
“Si yo me muero y ustedes no se han graduado de la universidad, el dÃa que se gradúen ustedes van a mi tumba y me dicen ‘Mami, cumplÃ.’”
(If I die and you guys haven’t graduated college, the day you graduate you will go to my tomb and say, “Mom, I did it.â€)
As an adult, I can’t imagine how hard it is to say those words to your children. Today is five years to the date that I graduated college. I’m a journalist and my brother, who also graduated, works as a marketing manager in Chicago. She told my brother and I the exact same thing when we graduated:
“Ya usted cumplió conmigo.”
(Loosely translated: You’ve done all I’ve asked of you.)
That’s all she ever asked of us, to get an education. She said it was the only gift she could give us. It will forever be the greatest gift she gave us.
Victoria Moll-Ramirez is a broadcast journalist based in Atlanta, GA. She is originally from Miami, FL and had the great fortune of being raised by the sassiest, spunkiest, wisest, most hysterical Honduran woman in the world. Victoria’s mother, Bélgica, is 60-years-old, resides in Little Havana (Miami) and enjoys a good margarita accompanied by a heartrending ranchera. Victoria blogs about her mom’s funny and wise sayings on, “In My Mother’s Words.â€