Tuesday, September 16, 2014

No Blog Post Could Do Him Justice

I just wish everyone could have had the privilege of knowing Alberto Cabrera. You seriously would have loved him. Everyone did.

The first time I met my (then) future father-in-law, I had only been home from my mission for two weeks. I went to Peru to "court" my future husband. As soon as I met Alberto, I could feel his amazing warmth and love. I knew I needed to be a part of his family when he sat with me about a week later and told me that he and his wife had been raising his son from very small to be a great husband. He told me he felt like I would be a good wife for that son. 

He taught both of his sons well. He never let a moment go by without teaching them something.

Alberto contracted polio when he was only a year old. He never walked. He spent nearly his entire life in a wheelchair. But he never let that limit him in any way. He wasn't resentful about it. He was one of the most cheerful people I've ever had the pleasure to meet. When Lucia was so close to walking while we were there he would always say, "She's going to beat me at walking!"

He never called me his daughter-in-law. He always called me his daughter. He told me he had always wanted a daughter and now he had one.

I knew I loved this man when he took my side on any argument Diego and I ever had.

At our wedding reception in Peru while Diego danced with his mom, I grabbed Alberto by the hands and we glided across the dance floor.


You could not have seen a happier grandpa when Lucia and I went to Peru in April. He put her on his lap and wheeled his chair up and down the street telling everyone, "This is my granddaughter!" "My granddaughter is here visiting me!" 

He asked me to pick out some movies for Lucia that he could buy. He bought her Frozen. We sat down to watch it, Lucia, Alberto, Sonia, and I. But Sonia and Lucia both fell asleep about half way through the first song and Alberto and I stayed up watching it together.

When Elsa is little and her father is trying to hide her powers, Alberto said, "That is just like people who are really smart! So many times they hide it instead of letting their abilities grow."

He was always analyzing everything and finding deeper meaning. But he had such a light heart and happy spirit. He laughed heartily throughout the movie.

He loved music. He was always singing. Whenever we'd talk to him on Skype he would start a huayno beat to make Lucia laugh. Dung dugga dung dugga dung. I can hear his voice and see Lucia's smile.




One night while I was in Peru the last time I got really depressed. I felt so guilty that Diego's life had changed so dramatically. I felt awful that he was far away from his friends and family and that it was my fault. The next day when I talked to Alberto about it he kindly said, "Diego knew what he was doing when he married you. When he chose to love you, he knew he would be giving up a lot." He knew exactly what to say to sooth my sorrowing heart.

He was friends with everyone he met. He told me that he loved the song "Un Millon de Amigos" (A Million Friends) by Roberto Carlos because that was his goal in life, too. He was a friend to everyone he met, and even those he hadn't met. Every time we spoke on Skype he would ask me how my mom and dad were doing. He always wanted to know what was going on in their lives and how they were.

He will be sorely missed, but the greatest consolation is knowing that he is home with his Father in Heaven. He was one of the most faithful men I have ever met. His testimony of His Savior Jesus Christ was incredible. He served faithfully to the end.

Life will not be the same without him. But he was an amazing comforter. I know if he were here he'd be saying, "Hannah, don't cry. Don't cry hija, everything will be okay." And I know it will be. I know that families can be eternal and that we will be with Alberto again sooner than we know it.

Te amo mi querido suegro. Gracias por tratarme siempre como tu hija. Gracias por enseñarme, por amarme y por siempre aceptarme tal y como soy.

Sunday, September 14, 2014

Surviving the Distance

This Tuesday, September 16, marks exactly 6 months since Diego and I have been apart. Diego said something the other day about how fast the time has gone.

Well, I'm glad it went by fast for him because it has been the longest six months of my life. 

It's not like Diego and I are strangers to long periods of distance. You could say that that is a big part of our relationship. 



Our first shot at long distance was 8 months. I was still on my mission; Diego was at home. We didn't talk on the phone, we only wrote to each other once a week. We weren't officially in any kind of relationship, just good friends. Still, through our distance, we learned to care for each other. Time flew by then.

After two short weeks in Peru, we were apart again. This time for 9 months. A lot happened in that nine months. We broke up and got back together several times. Our relationship went through a refiner's fire. But in the end, we decided our love could be an eternal one, and got engaged. 9 months after my first trip to Peru, I returned, this time with a ring on my finger. We were together for a well deserved 2 months. It was heavenly. We went on actual dates, we talked late into the night, we were able to hold each other close.

Then separation. Again. This time it was only 3 months. Three stressful months--planning a wedding, trying to graduate from college, starting a new job, and begging immigration services to hurry up our paperwork so I could have a groom on my wedding day. Those months went by pretty fast.

May 25, 2012 finally came around. We were sealed for time and all eternity. Everything was just as it should be. 

Except not. Contrary to popular belief, Diego didn't just "become a citizen" when he married me. He didn't even become a resident for nearly a year after our wedding. Months passed. We were together, that was the good part. The bad part was that Diego wasn't allowed to work. Or go to school. Or to do anything really. 

A year passed. We had a beautiful baby girl. We were together every day. Sometimes I think we forgot about the distance. We started to take for granted the simple blessing of just physically being together.

Months and months passed. Things started to get more difficult. Diego started looking into joining the Army, something I would never have even imagined. I knew it would mean more separation. After counseling and praying together, we decided it was the right decision. I thought the separation wouldn't hurt so bad, since we had done it so many times before.

After 22 months of being together every day, we parted ways again. This time things were very different, though. I wasn't working or going to school. I had Lucia to keep me company, but sometimes that made me even more lonely. I've gained a whole new respect for single moms. Diego has thrived in the Army. He's become a fully qualifies Combat Medic. I am very proud of him.

I have tried to keep myself busy. It's hard being a stay at home mom, because technically you are always busy, but you sometimes feel like you get absolutely nothing done. It has made time seem sluggish. 

Time is a funny thing. Though it feels like an eternity since I've woken up with my husband by my side, it also seems like Lucia is growing up way too fast. She has completely transformed from a 10 month old baby to a bubbly busy toddler.

So 6 months later, and finally, this Thursday, we will all be together again. I don't know for how long this time. It could be a year. It could be more. Or less. Since Diego is active duty, I know we will be apart again.

Sometimes I cry about it. Sometimes I just accept it as part of our life together. I hope the separation will continue to help me appreciate the moments that we are together.