Wiser With Age

Tag: faith

  • First-time author describes his journey from addiction and jail to finally freedom

    First-time author describes his journey from addiction and jail to finally freedom

    A woman with short hair wearing red necklace.
    Hector La Fosse at the 2019 21st Annual International Latino Book Awards on September 21, 2019 at the Los Angeles City College. (Courtesy Hector La Fosse)

    Hector La Fosse has had a life more reckless than most. 

    It all started in New York City, in the 1960’s. La Fosse was born – the youngest of seven siblings to Puerto Rican parents. His father was unemployed, and an alcoholic who used to beat his mother. At only 7, La Fosse was raped by a teenage girl in his neighborhood. Since then, he decided to escape to the streets, looking for a release in drugs, women and gang life. Eventually, that life led to many years in and out of jail. 

    It took almost four decades, but after much healing – physically and emotionally – he was finally able to get married, and leave drugs and his criminal life for good. For the past two decades, La Fosse has worked as a mentor, counselor, and bounty hunter. 

    As a teenager, sitting in a jail cell, La Fosse says he was first inspired by a book called, “Down These Mean Streets,†written by Piri Thomas. He says reading this book served as a pivotal moment in his life that planted the dream of becoming a writer someday. It wasn’t until 45 years later that this dream would finally come to fruition. 

    Today, at 61, La Fosse lives in central Florida with his wife, and two dogs. This is where he wrote his first book, “No Regrets: The Journey†– an award-winning memoir about his troubled life that finally was rerouted on a path towards healing and redemption. On October 13, La Fosse will be returning to his native NYC to read from his book at Festival of Books 2019.

    What made you finally ready to write this book?

    I wrote this book to release myself. To release my secrets. That was my sole purpose – to share my secrets with the world. At the beginning, it was very painful and frustrating to relive these moments in my life. I just wanted to quit many times. Reliving the pain was more painful than the actual experience. Now as an adult, looking back, I realize I never let go of that little boy and the pain that he experienced. The teenager took the adult hostage dictating to him how to feel. I was an angry little kid. 

    Why do you think you gravitated towards bad influences when you were little?

    I felt hopeless. I was homeless, and the easy was more attractive… I just wanted to run. The corners I ran to were negative places – people out of similar experiences. It became comfortable to me, because I was becoming accepted in another world, and these people accepted me. It became a way of life. I became conditioned to living this lifestyle, because I was running. I was hiding. The using of the drugs was another escape for me not to feel. Throughout this whole process, I was suffering. I became frightened and built this fantasy world. I lived in this illusion that this was the best way. 

    You mention praying a few times in your book. How has that been instrumental in your life?

    I grew up Pentecostal. We went to church at night. I was already rebelling. It’s not what I wanted to be, but I always had some faith. I always believed in God. Many times I was angry with God, because I felt he abandoned me and He let me suffer. But a lot of times, I called on Him because of the fear that I was experiencing at a given moment…I kept telling God, “Help me,†or “I’m hungry.†I always had the belief that there was a God, but I was angry at Him. But He was always there. I always had that feeling that He was watching over me. Mostly because of all of the things that I escaped. I tried understanding the lessons He was trying to tell me. I couldn’t decipher it, I couldn’t make sense of it, but it came very subtly to me. And I didn’t follow my conscious, because I didn’t know how to tap into it, but the message was coming to me. Later in life, it actually hit me. 

    I had eventually formed a habit of praying, because I saw miracles happen in my life. The biggest thing that happened to me was when I finished building my house [after moving to Florida 16 year ago]…but I was still obsessed with building more. I was a little kid from the ghetto, from poverty, and I promised myself I would never to be poor again. Now I am for the very first time in my very own house. It became a fortress. I put so much time and money into it. Thirteen years later, I look at my house and thank God. I said while crying, “Wow, look at what you have done for this little boy.†I start to meditate, and in my conscious, I felt something big and clear speak to me, “Now it’s time for you to leave everything. There’s something more for you to do.†I get emotional, and I get frightened. It was clear to me. I go back to make sense of it. I go into prayer again, and ask Him again. I caught a vision of that teeneager in the prison cell that read that book for the very first time – “Down Those Mean Streets†– that was the first book I ever read that made sense to me. And I realized, “Wow, one day I’m going to tell my story.†That was the very first moment I had a goal. It was clear what my purpose was.

    Shortly after that, we moved to a one-bedroom apartment… We closed down the house – following the instructions. I had been making a lot of money as a self-employed bounty hunter, but I closed my business and I started writing for 12 to 13 hours a day. I would sleep two to three hours a night, because I kept being woken up by thoughts and experiences…After I published my book, I moved back to my house, but I still let everything go. My mission was no longer money…I had been writing for three years. I had to leave the house, because it was a distraction. I was also a community leader, so I had to go somewhere where I knew no one. 

    Do you remember the exact turning point for you when you truly turned your life around? Where were you, and what made you finally do it? 

    The main turning point was when I realized I kept reliving the same thing over and over and expecting different results. I didn’t have any money…but one day, I saw an infomercial at 2 or 3 in the morning, and it kept saying detox in 24 hours with a new treatment for only $3,000. That stuck in my head. I asked God to help me. A couple of days later, I get a credit card that I never applied for in the mail with a max limit of $3,000. Right away, I knew what this money would be for. I called, and they accepted me. They put me to sleep and they flushed me with a treatment…but I started to get a seizure, and I went into a coma and almost died…I was so weak that I could not leave the house for months. That’s where the transformation occurred. I detoxed while I was comatose.I said I could never, ever go through that again, and I turned more to God. I started going to NA meetings, and that saved my life. 

    What do you think made you go from woman to woman throughout your life? 

    I got sexually abused. That experience never left me. I thought that sex was a weapon. I thought it was normal to not show feelings, or emotions, and just do this kind of stuff. I think that was the beginning of that behavior where I just used women for instant gratification. I disregarded other people’s feelings. It was about me and the pleasure. The goal was always self-seeking. With women, I was always seeking my mother’s love… I was seeking the love that my mom started giving me as a baby, but it stopped [since the abuse], because I wasn’t present anymore. So I was looking for women to pick up that gap. I was always seeking that love and attention, but no one could be that equal, so it never felt right. So I kept running and seeking. No woman was able to fill that gap. When I learned that, it shattered me. I began to work on it. Things started to transform. I began to notice the patterns in my behavior and changing those things. My wife was the first woman I met when I started doing the things to heal in that area. Now, I can catch myself. It’s an ongoing process. I’ve addressed it, and can see it most times. This is the longest relationship I’ve been in – 20 years. I still want to run sometimes…It’s a struggle that hasn’t ended. I’m still that little kid. I have to be diligent recognizing these thoughts to leave. It becomes an internal fight – [like a part of me] always looking for an easier way. But it becomes just a thought and I have to decide not act out on it.

    What do you wish you could tell your deceased parents now with all the knowledge you’ve gained now? 

    I’m looking at their picture on my desk, and they are both looking at me in the eye when I look at them. I’m so hurt by the pain I caused them. I failed to recognize that they truly loved me. Everytime I go to NY, I visit the cemetery – they were buried together. I never know how I am going to react. The pain still lives inside me. I still have those regrets…I’ve been on rainy days crying in the mud asking for forgiveness. I’m always asking for their forgiveness. It’s as if it was yesterday. What I tell them is, “I’m so sorry. I know what you gave me is the only thing you knew. This is what you knew to show me. You knew no better. You gave me what you had. What you learned from your parents.â€

    My mom is the biggest pain for me, because I saw it in her eyes – her pain and feeling powerless. She didn’t know what to do [about my father beating her and me, running away]. Everytime I went to see her, I saw she was suffering so much for me. I changed the softness in her. That’s the pain I live with…She never knew I was molested. So no one knew why I was changing. She was the one that loved me the most. 

    What do you wish you could tell your sons?

    I’m sorry I didn’t meet up to their expectations of me. I’m sorry that my experiences in life blinded me to their needs. I’m really sorry and will have to live with that. A lot of their behaviors stemmed from that. With my oldest son, I was present, but I didn’t know how to be a parent. I thought buying things was a way to please him. I made a mistake. I became more his friend than his dad. 

    What is the most important piece of life advice that you would tell your younger self now at 61 years old?

    A woman with short hair wearing red necklace.
    Hector La Fosse in Kindergarten (Courtesy Hector La Fosse)

    What I would tell that little boy inside that suffered so much is that you don’t have to suffer anymore. I, the adult, will take care of you even when you keep reliving those memories. I will be there to comfort and protect you from here on end, and that I love you. I love that little boy. I have his Kindergarten picture on my wall. It’s the only picture I have as a child. That’s the picture that has inspired me. That little boy is my lifelong mission – to bring him love and bring healing to his spirit. My mother didn’t have money to pay for that picture, and the teacher helped her…I found the picture as an adult, long after my parents died, and had it restored. He looks at me all the time. 

    What are your goals for the future?

    I am now obsessed with sharing my message and sharing my hope. I just want to share my story with the world. I’m going to keep writing. I have ideas for my second book. It’s about some of the things I left out about illusions and fantasies, and where I go in my mind. The illusion [our mind creates as a defense mechanism to deal with pain] feels real, and how does one decipher that from reality? Like a self-help guide. I’m currently speaking at different venues, and book signing. This is what I’m meant to do. [This week] I’m going to speak to clinical social workers about behavioral changes of troubled teens.

    I realize now that God was preparing me all along. He was always carrying me. He was preparing me for this moment. I went to school got licensed as an addiction counselor, because I was hungry to know more – to understand and figure myself out. I became an HIV and health counselor…and helped people approaching death to prepare them for end of life. While counseling, I grew attachments to the patients, mothers, wives, husbands – that burned me out and that’s when I moved to Florida. 

    You have to believe that there is a purpose in the good, and bad – in everything. Now I know my purpose. You have to be still to hear it. I meditate to do this. I only wish I could’ve got my purpose earlier, but that wasn’t the plan. I gotta do what I can with the time I have left to make a difference.

  • Actor Ivonne Coll on playing the matriarch on ‘Jane the Virgin’ at 70


    A woman with short hair wearing red necklace.
    Ivonne Coll (Photo\Starla Fortunato)

    Ivonne Coll is not a mother, or a grandmother, in real life, but she plays the role of both on television.

    Coll, otherwise known as Alba, plays the matriarch of her alternate reality home on The CW’s “Jane the Virgin.† There, the Puerto Rican actor plays the Venezuelan grandmother of Jane (Gina Rodriguez), and the mother of Xiomara Villanueva (Andrea Navedo). Her main goal as head of that household is to try and steer Jane in the right direction. 

    “What I like about the show is how they portray Alba is that she is still sensual,†says Coll, adding that her character is also courageous and intelligent. “A lot of times abuelas are shown as always having an apron on and asking if you ate, but Alba is a dynamic woman who has a boyfriend and makes mistakes in life. The creators allow me to sing and dance – those are the opportunities that this show has allowed me to express.â€

    In a way, the now 70-year-old actor is going back to her roots. At 20, while studying psychology at the University of Puerto Rico, Coll won the Miss Puerto Rico title, and in the same year, 1967, she represented Puerto Rico in the Miss Universe pageant – both of which required her to display her talents of acting, singing and dancing. Upon seeing her performing skills, a producer in Puerto Rico gave Coll her own variety show. But at 26, Coll decided it was time to move to Hollywood.

    A woman with short hair wearing red necklace.
    Ivonne Coll in 1967 (Courtesy Ivonne Coll)

    “My mother couldn’t understand why I was leaving Puerto Rico, because I was so successful there, but I knew my calling was somewhere else,†says Coll. “I knew I had to study the craft of acting. I didn’t care about fame, or making it, or becoming a star, I wanted to become a working actor – that was my goal.â€

    Little did she know, she says, that according to the standards of Hollywood, she was already considered “too old.â€

    “But I didn’t know that, and when I was told about it, I didn’t care,†says the determined Coll. “I just thought, ‘Let me keep on growing and doing my craft.’â€

    It was around this time in her life that she often didn’t have money for food or to buy bottled water, but nothing, not even not having money, would be an obstacle to accomplishing her dream. When she needed diction classes to make her spoken English clearer, she instantly thought of a creative solution.

    “I would clean the room for free lessons,†says Coll, laughing at this memory. “It was joyful. I never thought that I was struggling. I never thought I was paying my dues. It was a joy to do that work to get that session.â€

    Shortly after, by a chance situation, she was hired to play the “redheaded singer, Yolanda†in Francis Ford Coppola’s, “The Godfather II,†which hit theaters in 1974.

    “It was around 2 or 3 in the morning, and Al Pacino came on the set to do the kissing scene, and that’s what it did it for me,†recounts Coll about the exact moment she confirmed she wanted to dedicate the rest of her life to acting. “As he walked to Fredo, watching the way he transformed. I thought, ‘How did he do that?!’â€

    It was then that she started to train even harder.

    “I studied acting techniques for seven years, with Lee Strasberg, David Alexander, and Lucille Ball – who gave an eight-week workshop in Hollywood,†says Coll, adding that Ball was very strict and committed as a teacher.

    Throughout her career, Coll has starred on Broadway in “Goodbye Fidel,†and played Lady Macbeth in “Lady Macbeth,†and acted in the films, “Lean on Me,†and “Walking the Dead,†and has countless television credits, including “Switched at Birth,†and “Glee.†Yet no matter how many years and projects pass, she still calls her mother her biggest inspiration, role model and hero.

    “It’s all for Puerto Rico and my mother,†says Coll about Rosita Mendoza who was a celebrated hairstylist in Puerto Rico. “I think I inherited all my talent from my mother…Later in her life, she would be training – her talent for teaching is my talent for coaching others. That’s my mother – I’m so lucky. The last thing she saw me in was in Puerto Rican Parade in New York City when I won the Lifetime Achievement Award [in 2015]. She saw it on TV, and a week later she died.â€

    Coll admits that as her recurring role as a mom in the television series,“Switched at Birth†was dwindling down, she started thinking about gracefully bowing out of show business and returning to her island home.

    “I didn’t think there would be more roles for me,†says Coll. “As I’m doing the paperwork needed to wrap up, I get the audition for this role at Jane the Virgin.â€

    Not taking it seriously, she first told her agency she’s busy doing jury duty.

    “I was so confused, because the role was in Spanish in English, and the audition was the next day!,†says Coll.

    Once there, she asked the producers what kind of Spanish dialect they wanted. They said Venezuelan, which was a very easy transition from her native Caribbean Spanish.  

    “God decided that role was for me no matter how much I didn’t take it seriously,†says Coll. “When they called me to go to network, I turned off my phone, and I didn’t hear they cancelled the audition. So I went. And at the moment the casting director came in, and she said, ‘Abuela, we’ll see your tape.’ They didn’t answer until the next day. We were in parking lot when I got it. I was screaming in the car. It’s been a great ride.â€

    She says working on “Jane the Virgin†has been one of her most special experiences, because her co-stars have become like true family.

    “It’s also the first time three Latinas are in a mainstream show, and now we have it in ‘One Day at a Time,’†says Coll about the Netflix series she will soon guest star on – reuniting her with Rita Moreno, 85, who played the “Glam-ma†on “Jane the Virgin.â€

    Looking back now to when she once heard she was “too old†at 27, Coll laughs.

    “I just produced and co-wrote a short and I’m acting in it,†she says. “It’s about two women – one is a principal, and one is a yoga teacher and married to a Harvard professor…I want to put [Latinas] in charge like we are in real life…Producers feel it won’t sell, but it will sell, because it represents the face of North America.â€

    What advice would she tell her 20-year-old self at her age now?

    “I wouldn’t change anything of what I did really…Go with your gut feeling. God lives in you. I was not aware that I was doing that. Be more aware of what moves you, because that will inform how your life will be.â€

    “Alba, to me, has been a gift of love from God that came at a time I was about to retire. Isn’t it incredible?,” says Coll. “You can plan, but God has other plans, and His plans are better than yours.â€

  • In My Mother’s Words: The Horribly Terrifying C-word

    In My Mother’s Words: The Horribly Terrifying C-word


    A woman with short hair wearing red necklace.
    Belgica with her children the day before surgery.

    On July 27th, the company I now work for had told me they’d call me back shortly with a final offer. I was beyond excited. Moving back to NYC had been my dream for years. It was all finally happening.

    As I waited for the phone call, I was in my kitchen cooking, and my brother called. I had him on speakerphone, and he told me to take him off, which I found odd. He proceeds to make small talk with me and then tells me we have to talk and I should sit. He then tells me, “Mom’s results came back positive…for cancer.â€

    This all started a few months back when my mom starting showing ONE symptom. She’s good about going to the doctor – so she went and got some tests done. In the past, she had shown a similar symptom and everything came back normal, so I didn’t worry.

    When my brother told me, I didn’t really know what to say besides, “Ok…†I work in a business where you deal with tragedy every day. If it’s not a mass shooting, it’s a natural disaster, or war. You learn to not let things sink in, because you don’t have time. You need to crank out a script, and inform everyone else. There’s NO time to feel.

    My brother was very supportive and told me he was going to let me go, but if I needed anything to call him. He’s always the family rock. In serious situations, our (my mom and I) feelings come first. As a matter of fact, when my mom told him her diagnosis his response to her was:

    “Hemos ganado peores batallas.â€

             “We’ve overcome worse battles.â€

    I did ask him why he was the one telling me. He said my mom didn’t have the heart to tell me, so he told her he’d handle it. I hung up the phone and just sat there. I did what my instincts always tell me to do, call my best friend, Valerie. She was at work, and when she answers the phone the idea of saying the words made my voice crack.

    “My mom has cancer.â€

    After I hung up with her, I composed myself and called my mom. She told me she was diagnosed with endometrial cancer, or endometrial adenocarcinoma. Your endometrium is the lining of your uterus. The symptom my mom had was something we women would’ve blamed hormones for, except at her age it’s not.

    My next concern was the fact she was heading home to an empty house. When I told her, she said she had already called my other best friend, Ignacio, who’s like a younger brother, to go to the house. I called him to give him the heads up. He knew she had been getting tests done and had even taken her to one of them. He was a God send that day, more than others, because when my mom pulled up to the house, he was already there. Thankfully, my brother was scheduled for a work trip and was arriving to Miami the next day.

    Of course, during all of this, HR calls and I get my final offer. It’s honestly comical. I didn’t tell them anything at the moment, but I did know the person who was going to be my new boss. I called her and told her. Again, I got nothing short of support and compassion. I was even given the option to work from the Miami offices if need be. Later on, I did tell my new company, and they allowed me to start at a later date to be with my mom.

    In the next three days, I quit my job, sold all my stuff, packed up my car and moved from Atlanta to Miami. My mom’s doctors had moved quickly, so her surgery was scheduled for Monday, August 3rd. She was going to have a radical hysterectomy.

    I had no time to break down and cry, or process. I had to GO. But, had I wanted to, it wouldn’t have happened. My support system in Atlanta was so out of this world that had I tried to collapse, everyone would’ve held me up. Friends who helped me pack, who gave me a “mom†hug when I needed one, who took whatever stress they could off my plate, a friend from Orlando even flew up so I wouldn’t drive down alone. I was humbled.

    I called it the “passing of the baton.†The day she got diagnosed, Ignacio carried the baton until my brother arrived Tuesday. He could only stay until the day before the surgery which is exactly when I arrived to take the baton to the finish line.

    That Sunday, we had brunch together at our favorite Irish pub. All was normal. My mom was strong. Her faith is something that should be examined by NASA, because it’s out of this world. All three of us had an “Alright, let’s do this,†attitude.

    Surgery day came, and again, we were surrounded with support. My best friend, Valerie, took the day off of work. My cousin’s mom, and his aunt, along with our other cousin, also came to the hospital. You know, you’re not really Latino unless you have an overabundance of people and volume at these things.

    Surgery lasted three hours. When the oncologist came out, he gave us the good news. It looked like her surrounding organs were untouched. It was a tough first week of recovery, but my mom did what she always does, she kicked ridiculous ass.

    A week and a half later, her pathology results were in. We got more good news – no further treatment needed. No chemo. No radiation. She even got the ok to fly so I could bring her with me to NYC to finish recovering. Hell, the doctor even said she could have a margarita! Naturally, we celebrated.

    We were so lucky. We ARE so lucky. I don’t even feel like I could ever complain about this speed bump life gave us. I don’t even know if it’s right to call it a speed bump! My mom got diagnosed and cured in a week. Are we forever impacted? Yes. Did we get the good end of the bargain? Absolutely.

    My mom later told me that when the doctor gave her the diagnosis, she didn’t believe him. Then, she said she had a flashback and saw my brother and I when we were small. Even then, she never shed a single tear. She said she knew God was testing her, and he’d get her through. Trust me, I know how unbelievable it is.

    A woman with short hair wearing red necklace.
    Belgica calling her son on the day she was told no further treatment was required.

    I learned so many things from this experience with my mom. First and foremost, I was reassured and blown away by the rock solid strength my mother has. I’m also glad she’s diligent about going to the doctor. It is SO important! Early detection makes all the difference.

    Secondly, my friends. From the support system in Atlanta, to the my support system in Orlando during my pit stop, to my family (blood and non-blood) in Miami. The friends who showed up to the hospital after working all day. The ones who brought us food. The ones who called. My always dependable “Faithful Four.†My former and current employers. Those who offered to help carry the baton if I had to move to NYC and my mom needed more treatment. All pride in your independence goes out the window in these scenarios, and it was good to know I have an army behind me.

    Most importantly, I learned cancer doesn’t always mean death, but it does mean caution. I hesitated to write about this, because we all kept it personal for a bit. I’m not trying to get on a soapbox, but if you take anything away from this incredibly long post, it’s if your gut tells you something is wrong, go to the doctor! Exhaust all possibilities. That’s what my mom did. That’s why she’s still here.

  • Bodybuilder and life coach says, “Spend time with yourself”

    Bodybuilder and life coach says, “Spend time with yourself”


     

     

    A woman with her arms raised in the air.
    Dr. Josefina Monasterio, bodybuilder and life coach (Courtesy Dr. Josefina Monasterio)

    Dr. Josefina Monasterio spent her childhood climbing mango trees in her rural hometown, Punta de Mata, in western Venezuela. She says she was always athletic – competing in track and field and as a gymnast through college. At 68, however, she has far from slowed down. Monasterio is an award-winning bodybuilder and life coach.

    “I started bodybuilding at 59, and now I compete with women in their 30’s, 40’s and 50’s, and I beat them,†says Monasterio laughing in her vivacious manner. “They take pictures with me!â€

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