Tag: gratitude

Grateful for my mom, my inspiration

Ida Echevarria at 89

Meet the new exercise instructor, Ida Echevarria. Yes, at 89 my mom now leads a morning exercise class at her assisted living center. This is amazing because of her age for sure. However, what is even more amazing is where my mom came from. She inspires me, because she is a miracle. We have a motto in our family, “Miracles happen when God sees you working on a miracle.”

Six years ago, Halloween night, she suffered a brain stroke and a spinal stroke. She felt a terrible pain in her back. My husband and I ran over when my dad called (we live five minutes away). We called the ambulance, and as she walked down the stairs, she lost use of her legs, and in seconds, she was blank – her mind was gone. She was airlifted to the hospital. We were told for the first time it is doubtful she will survive, and if she did, she would be almost in a coma state. So many times, we were told that or something similar. “She will never walk,” “never read,” “never do her word puzzles,” but they don’t know my mom. It took her four years to get her mind back and five to gain use of her legs. It was a combination of sheer determination on her part. She put on an attitude of joy, and despite what she was being told, she believed the opposite: “I will walk, read, think again.”

My mom has been a superwoman my whole life. She was a teacher, an educational administrator, a marathon runner, a swimmer, a single mom, an aerobics participant, and now, an exercise instructor at 89.

Right now, she is writing lessons plans for her class. Thinking of stories to entertain the residents throughout the class. She asked me to order her books on exercises for seniors. She uses weights, bands, and laughter.

She is so happy. That is her secret sauce: be happy. My mom is optimistic, hopeful, and takes whatever state she is in and makes it better for herself and all. I’ve seen her angry, I’ve seen her really serious so many times growing up, she was always fighting for us, and at the same time gave us experiences that made us laugh, learn and love life. She never gave up on herself, ever. She took classes on personal development, spiritual development, and positive mindset. When she retired at 55, she embraced a new a part of herself, her funny self. She wanted to laugh, have fun, and be happy. She won “Comedian of the Year” from her women’s golf group. She is always smiling and being fun loving. She continues that today at 89.

I am so grateful for my mom, my role model, my best friend, and her smiling face. She inspires me, motivates me and enriches my life daily.

Ida’s daughter, keynote speaker, coach and author, Pegine, is also a happy optimistic person like her mom. Pegine’s leadership and business blog was named 1 of the top 20 Women in Leadership Blogs in the World. She is also an award-winning author. Her book, “Sometimes You Have to Kick Your Own Butt,” was named the top 10 books for women, four years in a row, by Society of Human Resource Management. www.Pegine.com

November 22, 2018
Author Bob Brody: A note of thanks, on my dad’s behalf

Bob Brody’s father, Lee Brody, as a boy. (Courtesy Bob Brody)

Ask me for my favorite Thanksgiving story and here’s what I’ll now have to tell you.

In 1930, a certain 4-year-old in Newark had yet to speak a single word. So his mother took her first-born son to see a series of physicians for a diagnosis.

It turned out that my future father had been born almost completely deaf.

Two of those doctors recommended sending Lee Brody to a private school, the Central Institute for the Deaf (CID), a kind of Harvard for deaf children, more than 800 miles away in St. Louis, Mo.

My grandparents, despite such heavy expense during the depths of the Great Depression — my Poppa ran a saloon — took that advice.

My father arrived at CID in 1931 and graduated in 1941. There, he learned to speak, to listen, to read lips and to function as well as any hearing person. That much I knew.

But then, two years ago, some old letters arrived in my sister’s mailbox, and from an unlikely source: the woman my father had lived with after he divorced my mother. We’d had no contact with her in the 18 years since my father died in 1997. Our family had long presumed such letters to be either non-existent or long lost.

One of the letters revealed a reality about my father that I neither knew nor ever had cause to suspect. In 1936, with my father now 10 years old and already five years into his stay at CID, my Poppa ran out of money to foot the bill. My father was pulled out of his classes to return to Newark and enroll in a public school.

My Nana then evidently wrote a letter to Dr. Max Goldstein, the prominent ear, nose and throat physician who had founded CID in 1914 and served as its executive director. She informed him that her son was performing poorly in the new school and pleaded for the institute to accept him back.

In response, Dr. Goldstein wrote, “I can readily appreciate your own disappointment in his limited progress (in Newark) . . . and your satisfaction with Irwin’s progress while with us.” She had “made a very frank statement of your family’s financial affairs.”

Dr. Goldstein then agreed to lower the annual tuition fee for my father to $900.

“I hope this concession in the tuition fee will make it possible for you and Mr. Brody to have Irwin return to CID next September,” he wrote, “for I know it will be for the child’s good and will contribute much to your happiness.”

As a result, my father returned to CID the following semester and stayed there for five more years. He would graduate from Weequahic High School in Newark, and then from Rutgers, among the few deaf students ever to do so.

Much later, my father — now age 42, with a wife, two children and a full-time job managing real estate — founded a nonprofit organization, New York-New Jersey Phone-TTY, headquartered in Hackensack. Partnering with IBM and AT&T, among others, he was instrumental in establishing a network of specially adapted teletypewriters, or TTYs, from coast to coast.

As a result, millions of people with hearing impairments could, in written messages transmitted instantaneously, “speak” with each other as never before. The TTYs also connected the deaf and hard-of-hearing for the first time to police stations, firehouses, hospitals, airports and government.

Later, my father received a personal letter of appreciation from then-President Ronald Reagan. Bell Telephone’s Pioneers Club inducted him as only its 29th member since 1911. The Stevens Institute of Technology held a memorial service in his honor that drew 500 mourners. Gallaudet University, the world’s only higher education institution for the hearing-impaired, named a scholarship after him.

My father confided to me more than once throughout my boyhood that without his education at CID, he might never have accomplished much of anything. And he often expressed his gratitude, justifiably so, to his parents for funding it all at considerable sacrifice. No doubt he learned only later about the letter his mother sent to CID arguing her case for his return.

And so a certain question now haunts me. What would have happened to him without Dr. Goldstein’s altruism? We’ll never know. So, in keeping with the spirit of Thanksgiving, Dr. Goldstein, I thank you. As a pioneer in education, you made possible a pioneer in communications. I thank you for seeing the future in my father.

This article was originally published on NYDailyNews.com. Bob Brody is the author of the new memoir, “Playing Catch with Strangers: A Family Guy (Reluctantly) Comes of Age,” and you can read more about him here.

November 23, 2017
In My Mother’s Words: Matriarchs

Victoria (left) with her grandmother, María Victoria (center) and her mother, Bélgica (right).

I recently came back from Honduras. I went home to celebrate my grandmother’s 92nd birthday. Only a handful of family members knew I was going, and it had been four years since my last visit. When I walked into my grandmother’s living room, she looked up at me almost in disbelief. She shouted “Bandida!” (The literal translation is “bandit,” but basically, what she meant is that I’m crazy and sneaky.)

Unfortunately, the 92nd birthday party extravaganza didn’t quite play out as we had planned. The next day, my grandmother was hospitalized, and it would stay that way for the next four days. You know how they say, “Every second counts?” Well, had it not been for my mom’s swiftness in noticing something was wrong with my grandmother, we would’ve been attending her funeral instead. She’s fine now! Much better, but we almost lost her.

My grandmother, María Victoria, is the matriarch of our family. She is the trunk of a family tree that consists of 9 children, 24 grandchildren, 22 great-grandchildren, and one great-great-grandchild. Despite her age, her mental clarity is astonishing. She will tell you stories from 70+ years ago with incredibly vivid detail. While she was in the hospital, I had lots of conversations with her. I asked her why she chose do make some of the decisions in life she made. During many instances, it had nothing to do with what was best for her, rather what was best for my aunts and uncles.

It reminded me a lot of my mom. I constantly remind her she has to take care of herself. Yesterday alone she told me:

“Yo se mija. Yo ya no soy la misma y tengo que pensar mas en ustedes.”

(My daughter, I know. I’m not the same anymore, and I need to think more about you two.)

This response blew me away. Never has my mom ever not thought of us. Honestly, she’s thought of us too much and not enough about herself. But, she says the last thing she wants to do is cause us any pain. Meanwhile, the last thing I want is for her to ever be in pain.

After she said this, it made me think of the parallels that exist between her and my grandmother. Both matriarchs. Both made many decisions based on what was best for their children. Both tried to do the best job they could’ve done within the circumstances life dealt them.

My grandmother, a woman who doesn’t know how to read or write, raised a woman like my mother. A woman who was brave enough to leave home, who took on a new country and raised her children with the best education money and hard work can buy. Neither ever sits there and brags about their accomplishments. They simply say they did what they were supposed to do.

As I’ve told you before, my mother compares my brother and I to her lungs. Part of me thinks that’s what helped my grandmother pull through – seeing how everyone rallied around her. How we all reminded her she still has fight in her, and we all still want her around. We gave her the boost of oxygen she needed.

It’s been a scary 10 months between my mom’s diagnosis, and now my grandmother. That’s why this year Mother’s Day is extra special. This is why I’m more grateful than ever to have both my mom, and my grandmother, on Earth with me. It could’ve been a terribly horrifying outcome on both ends. Instead, I learned more about the wonderful trail of matriarchs I form a part of, which I couldn’t be more humbled and grateful for.

Happy Mother’s Day.

Victoria Moll-Ramirez is a broadcast journalist based in New York City. 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.”

May 7, 2016
In My Mother’s Words: Gratitude

As my mom and I sat in the airport waiting for our ride when we came back from South America this summer, she started telling me how clearly she remembers the day she arrived to this country. She said she remembers the times she got lost. The times she felt such relief when finding someone who spoke Spanish to help, and how tough it was the times she couldn’t find someone.

I asked her if she had to do it all over again if she would. Without any hesitation she said to me,

“Uy, claro que sí! Yo a este país le vivo muy agradecida por que me dio a mis dos hijos y oportunidades que yo nunca hubiera podido tener en Honduras.”

(Oh, of course! I am very grateful to this country, because it gave me my two children and has granted me opportunities I would’ve never had in Honduras.)

My mother is one of the most grateful people I know. Frankly, I sometimes think she’s grateful to a fault. She never forgets the favors people did for her during some of our most difficult times. Her life here has not been an easy one, life in general isn’t meant to be easy. But, it takes a certain level of badassery (not a confirmed word in the Oxford dictionary) to pack up your bags and move to a whole new country you’ve never even seen. Not to mention, leaving your country and family not knowing when you’ll return.

My mom is the ultimate American. She listens to the Star-Spangled banner carefully every time it plays. She likes watching shows like Family Feud bc she says they teach her new words in English. She LOVES Facebook and her iPhone. She’s full of hope. Hope granted to her by living in a place where if you work hard you can come from an impoverished country, not know the language, and raise two professionals. Hope is a gift my mother has never taken for granted. She is forever grateful to this country for granting her that hope.

This Thanksgiving we spent it apart. We have lots to be thankful for- my mom’s health, my new job, amazing friends along with a roof over our heads and food on our tables. My mom came from very little and is always reminding us to give thanks, no matter the occasion. To her you need to be thankful for everything from the bus driver who gets you home safely to the steady paycheck.

Maybe that’s why when it comes time for Thanksgiving if we can’t get together none of us feel all that terrible. When your family consists of three people every gathering is a family gathering. We know how lucky we are and even if we’re apart we know we’re not alone. We’re a formidable army of three who eat turkey weekly (lean meats, ya know?!). We look forward to the next time we see each other and figuring out what vacation we’ll take next.

We’re three people full of hope and for that we are grateful.

Victoria Moll-Ramirez is a broadcast journalist based in New York City. 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.”

November 27, 2015
In my Mother’s Words: 6 greatest moments in 61 years
My mom celebrated her 61st birthday on Tuesday. Thankfully, she’s still hanging out with me in NYC until I get my apartment and am all settled. I decided to ask her what her top six moments of the last 61 years have been. Here you go (in chronological order and not necessarily order of importance):
1. Her wedding day – My mother has always said her wedding day really was one of the best memories of her life. She remembers being full of hopes, dreams and excitement.
2. The day she gave birth to each of us – My mom loves us limitlessly. She says despite the painful experience of child birth, and how hard it is to raise kids, she wouldn’t have it any other way. I tell ya, we aren’t easy cookies so there’s a lot of love and patience there.
3. The day my brother and I each graduated college – For my mother this was her American dream. All she wanted was to raise two professionals. We did it!
4. Visiting the Sanctuary of Our Lady of Lourdes in Lourdes, France – My mom is a very devout Catholic and says ever since she was a little girl she dreamt of traveling to Lourdes but never thought it’d be possible. Thankfully, she checked it off her bucket list. (photo credit: Mom)
5. Seeing my grandmother turn 91 – My grandmother is not only 91 but is as healthy as a horse. She’s a little frail like most of us would be, but has a sharp tongue paired with sharp wit. She went to the doctor a few weeks ago and tried hitting on the man! Here she is surrounded by mariachis on her 91st in Tegucigalpa, Honduras.
6. Vacationing in Argentina with my brother and I- This was probably the most surprising one for me. She told me that for her “eso fue lo máximo” (it was awesome). When I asked her why, she said she never imagined us being all together on vacation somewhere like Argentina. When we were younger we didn’t go on vacation and any trips were to Honduras to see family. It was a fun treat to be all together…sipping on wine…lots of wine.
From listening to her I was reminded of the importance of gratitude. She’s so thankful for all of these experiences. She’s humbled by so many of them and realizes how fortunate we are. She doesn’t feel entitled or like these are experiences she’s earned. She’s just grateful.

The crazy thing is five out of her six best moments have happened in the last 31 years. As usual, she reminds me it’s never too late.

Victoria Moll-Ramirez is a broadcast journalist based in New York City. 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.”
September 4, 2015