MARIUXI IS BORN

FANNY IN FEBRUARY 1974, WHEN SHE WAS
SIX MONTHS PREGNANT

By the time Fanny was six months pregnant, we made a trip to visit my dad in Pallatanga, it was the Carnival long weekend, so I drove my 1969 Volkswagen bug the 70 miles to Pallatanga on Friday morning, and planned to spend the whole five day holiday visiting my father and enjoying the incomparable Pallatanga weather and maybe even tasting the delicacies Pallatanga people make in these festivities. Little did I know we were going to have a traffic accident that almost killed us, including our not yet born first child!
It was on Sunday, the most important day of the Carnival festivities, Fanny and I drove a few blocks to visit my uncle Antonio, a man I have a lot to talk about later in my story, and his wife Zoila. We had a chat with them and among the things we talked about was Azazán, the place where Antonio, Zoila and my father had been born, where our forefathers on the Romero side used to live. I remember Zoila saying she hadn’t seen Azazán for over 40 years, so I invited them (they were in their middle sixties) to come along to visit this place. It was a very sunny and pleasant day by the end of February 1974, Pallatanga and its neighboring hills were looking at their greenest best. Green was everywhere, that exuberant green resulting from the combination of good soil, lots of sun, rain and man’s hard work. It was just nature at its best.
After a few minutes of driving toward Azazán, a car coming from the north crashed against my car (going north) as we were taking a curb in our way to Azazán. It all happened in a matter of seconds, In a few minutes, Fanny, Antonio and Zoila were all covered by their own blood, I was also bleeding from my head but was well enough to try helping the other three in the car. It was only a few minutes before some help came from Pallatanga; they took us to our house which was only about a half mile away and called for medical help. My father was crying and his main concern was for Fanny and the baby she was carrying in her womb.
In about one hour the much needed first aid had worked, but Fanny, Antonio and Zoila needed much more than just first aid medical help. My brother Pancho, who had heard the news in the radio and was in Quito (two hundred miles away), moved so fast to provide his help that in a matter of four hours he was already in Pallatanga and took my wife, uncle Antonio and aunt Zoila to a hospital in Guayaquil. I was detained by the police for twenty four hours, together with the driver of the other car until a clarification of the accident was made. The following day I was in Guayaquil, visiting Fanny, who had been subjected to a facial surgery right above her left eye, and another surgery in her right leg. She was fine, but our main concern came from the warning of one of the doctors who said that we should be alert, because if the baby did not start moving within the 24 hours after the surgery, much to their displeasure, they would have to perform an abortion in order to save the life of the mother. The hours went buy as slow as I can’t remember, but, it was only after six hours that our baby started to move, the doctors came out broadly smiling. “The baby is just fine, no reason for concern” the doctors said and Fanny and I embraced each other in extreme happiness. “This baby is going to be tough” I said, and added “as tough as her father”, remembering what my mother had told me about the events prior to my own birth.



MARIUXI IN 1975, WHEN SHE WAS NINE MONTHS OLD

Little else happened after the Pallatanga carnival events, Fanny and I decided that we were not going to take any more trips outside Guayaquil until after the baby was born. Neither she nor I was willing to put our baby at risk any more, so, the time went by uneventfully but not short of happiness and great expectations. We enjoyed going out window shopping and whenever we liked something, we bought clothing for our future child. I confess my preference was for a baby boy, it is just the nature of Latino debutant fathers, whereas Fanny did not have a preference and she said many times “all I want is to have a healthy baby”. So the time went by, and the day of delivery was fast approaching. Since the doctors detected a bad position of the fetus, they decided to perform a C section so as to risk neither the baby nor the mother.
At seven A.M. on June 1, 1974, on Universal Children’s Day, a beautiful baby girl was born. The head doctor who attended the operation, a cousin of Fanny’s, actually showed his head out of the operating room, with his surgery gloves still on and bloody, and said in high voice which we all heard clearly “I’TS A BABY GIRL!, and off he went inside to finish his job.



MARIUXI AND ME AT THE END OF 1975
WHEN SHE WAS 18 MONTHS OLD

I was surrounded by Fanny’s family at that moment; they all were cheering, congratulating me and congratulating each other. About 30 minutes later, a nurse came into the new born babies’ room which could be seen through the glass from where we were, she had my baby in her arms, wrapped up in a yellow blanket, she showed her to us, and I instantly felt like the happiest man in the whole wide world. I fell in love with my little daughter right at that very moment, a love which kept growing bigger and bigger as Mariuxi grew up and which has continued growing non stop until these days. Mariuxi is now the mother of two adorable baby boys, our first and second grand children; those are two more great reasons to love her…
When Mariuxi and Carl got married in Guayaquil, on May 20, 2004, I wanted to remind myself and remind all my family and friends that, notwithstanding the immense love I have for Mariuxi, before she was born, I had wanted my first child to be a baby boy, so, I decided to sing a song for her and in front of her and her groom. The song tells the story of a father who, just like me, wanted to have his first child to be a baby boy and ended up having a baby girl, only to fall crazily in love with her as soon as she was born and forever after.


MARIUXI AT THE AGE OF SIX MONTHS-WITH FANNY

The poem was written by the Uruguayan Poet Angel Canales in the early fifties, and is now a classic song that is sung in almost all Spanish speaking weddings. I couldn’t help but cry while I was singing, because I had Mariuxi and her groom standing right in front of me, while telling them in the song that I have prayed my God asking for a loving husband for my daughter, for a husband that would take good care of her. Mariuxi, her husband Carl and most, if not all the 250 people in the reception room were sobbing with me that night. I couldn’t help but cry out of happiness, as I was singing. The end of this short story is a happy one, my prayers had been certainly heard, Carl is a very loving and caring husband, he is, for Fanny and I, just like one more of our own children, he is also a much loving and caring father for his two young children, and Mariuxi is the loveliest mother, while at the same time, she has made us the happiest grandparents any one can think of.
In my next posting: QUITO IN SIGHT

A GOLFER AND A GENTLEMAN

WHAT A SWING! AT THE AGE OF 34,
FERNANDO HAD ALREADY BEEN THE
NUMBER 1 PLAYER OF ECUADOR FOR
MANY YEARS

When I took on Golf, almost 25 years ago, after my doctor had told me to either change the sport I practiced (tennis) or to look for another doctor because he couldn’t do much for my ever increasing back pain, little did I know that golf was going to become not only my favorite game, but my favorite passion!
Among the many satisfactions and the great time I’ve had while practicing golf over the last quarter of a century, I could mention many things, but a very few of them stand above everything else and will remain in my memory for as long as I live.
One of them occurred yesterday, Monday October 18, 2010, while playing morning exercising golf with my friend Fernando Fiore, the greatest Golf player ECUADOR has ever produced. I was thrilled, honored and delighted to see him make the NINTH HOLE IN ONE of his life, a number not many people in the world can say they have reached.

It was about nine O’clock in the morning and nobody but us was playing, since on Mondays the course is normally closed. Fernando and I with our caddies had played the first three holes uneventfully; Fernando making his expected pars while I was, as usual, struggling to make my bogeys. As I stood watching him swinging, I was wondering just how close to the pin the ball will land. As he finished his swing, I knew, right from its taking off, that this time his perfect shot at hole number 4 was going to sink in the cup, and, guess what... it did. I jumped to give him a five, and a big hug, but just as he does every time he makes a great shot, he remained calm, he only smiled briefly and said to me, “What an irony, I’m making a hole in one at the time when I'm not playing well”. This is the man who pars the course at least three out of every five games, who makes two to three birdies on each side of the course, and who makes at least five pars every nine holes. Modesty, of course is one of his many well known and outstanding characteristics.


FERNANDO (L) WITH HIS INSEPARABLE FRIEND AND TOUGH RIVAL OF ALL TIMES, ISIDRO YCAZA (R), IN THE LATE 60'S

Fernando, who started golfing when he was seven, is the son of an Italian immigrant who fought in WWI, and an Ecuadorian mother. Uninterruptedly he was, for at least 36 years, between 1956 and 1992, the undisputed number one golf player in Ecuador; he successfully represented our country in many amateur tournaments around the globe. I wouldn’t hesitate to say that he is for Ecuador the symbol of Golf, just as Jack Nicklaus is for the United States of America, except that he, unlike Jack, never became a pro.
Today, at the age of 70, Fernando walks and plays nine holes every weekday of the year in our beloved 18-hole home course at the Guayaquil Country Club ("GCC"), just about 15 miles north of Guayaquil, my home town during the summer.

AT 70, FERNANDO STILL IS A GOLFER ONLY A VERY FEW
GOLFERS IN GUAYAQUIL DARE TO CHALLENGE
When I found out from my caddie that he was doing that, I politely asked Fernando if he would allow me to walk and play along. It came to no surprise for me to hear him say he would be pleased to do so, and since, he and I play together almost every morning. Occasionally one or two other friends join us. Ever since I had been doing that, I have been enjoying and hopefully learning a bit, not only from his extraordinary ability to play good golf with no effort, but also, and equally important, from his gentleman`s personality, his clear view of the world’s and local events; his always entertaining conversation; his knowledge of History and his ever entertaining stories about his Golf experience throughout the world. Fernando is a great golfer and a great gentleman as well.
This was not the first time I had personally witnessed the sinking of the ball in one shot, in fact, I, myself have done it twice (twenty two years ago this year); my wife Fanny did it once, much before I did it (and much to my envy) in the same hole Fernando just did it this time; I saw my club's comembers Jorgen Nielsen, Gonzalo Noboa and my friend Eduardo Falquez do it, all at the GCC, but there was one occasion when I saw it done, at The Remington Gulf Club, in Kissimmee, Fl,where I live one half of the year, by my also dear Argentine friend Miguel Acevedo who visited Guayaquil in July 2009 and played at our course.



MY ARGENTINE FRIEND MIGUEL ACEVEDO AND I, AT THE GUAYAQUIL COUNTRY CLUB IN JULY 2009

None of us, except Fernando Fiore, is a good golfer; we just play golf for the pleasure of doing so, and dream, as most golfers do, to be able to improve our game some (ever elusive) day, however, the fact that we have made one or more holes in one, only confirms the saying that “GOLF IS LIKE SEX, YOU DON´T HAVE TO BE GOOD AT IT TO ENJOY IT”.

SALUD FERNANDO!

A HAPPILY MARRIED MAN

FANNY AND I ARE MARRIED

The day of the wedding, September 1, 1973, at 11:00 A.M, the Church of St. Juan Bosco was filled with friends and family, as I entered the church accompanied by my father and my sister Lilita, I could see and smile to many of my friends, school and classmates, work colleagues and relatives, among them my sisters and brothers. Pepe García, my boss and his wife were there too, and I felt much honored that they were as he had postponed a holiday trip with his family only because he wanted to be with me on this very special day.
Following the tradition, Fanny was taken to the altar by her mother and her husband Aquilino, a man who helped Fanny’s mother to raise her three children since they were very young, with the love and respect of a dedicated and loving real father. Fanny, in her wedding gown was splendidly beautiful as she approached the altar where I was waiting for her, accompanied by my father and my sister Lilita. When Aquilino finally gave her to me and, together with my father and sister quietly walked away from the altar and into their assigned chairs and I was left alone with Fanny, I felt all my blood coming right into my head, out of emotion, out of sense of responsibility, out of happiness and out of love for the, soon to be, my wife. I never felt so unconditionally and undoubtedly sure of what I was doing. I felt extremely happy with myself and with everything around me. All of a sudden, all the doubts I had about getting married had been left behind, all I wanted to do was look forward to having my own family, my wife and children, I have never looked back to regret what I did. That was just the way I wanted to do it!



FANNY AND I AT THE RECEPTION. MY FATHER WAS MY BEST MAN AND MY SISTER LILITA, MY SURROGATE MOTHER

The wedding ceremony took about one hour and included a full mass in which many of the people took the holly communion. Fanny and I promised each other in front of God, the priest and everybody in the church, that we would remain together for the rest of our lives, in poverty as much as in prosperity, in health as much as in illness, in sadness as much as in happiness, and that we would be faithful to each other until we were to be separated by death. I listened each and every one of those words profoundly when I said them as well as when I heard them said by Fanny. Thirty seven years have passed since, and she and I have remained together, loving each other in poverty as in prosperity, in health as in illness, in sadness as much as in happiness, we have loved and have been faithful to each other and are still committed to each other today as much as we were back in September 1, 1973. Fanny and I have three wonderful children, whom we loved and cared much for when they were just young children; and we love them as much today when they are responsible self sufficient professional adults and will love them for as long as we live. We also have two beautiful grand children and expect to have many more, they are the prolongation of our lives, they are the little trees which will grow, become big and leafy and will carry on our heritage, our principles, our love, and, of course, our blood throughout the world, proud of their own selves and proud of their origin, the humble origin from where their forefathers come, but determined to reach out to the world, to reach very high, never ashamed of their roots…

TWO DEAR FRIENDS, FANNY AND I AT THE RECEPTION ROOM
AFTER THE RELIGIOUS CEREMONY

Fanny and I married without much time to prepare for our life together. I can’t say I was a penny wise individual, therefore, I had no savings to draw from, to get our basic things ready for when we got married, that was the first time I had to get credit to buy anything. My sister Lilita was the guarantor for the furniture we bought at a friend’s store on credit; there I bought the essentials for a modest two bedroom apartment we rented not very far from my sister’s. The basic things for the kitchen I was able to buy, but a few other things came from presents we got from friends and family on the wedding day. That is how we started, we didn’t have many things, but we had enough things to start as an independent and happy couple. Fanny was a teacher working for a public school and, though her salary did not make a great contribution to our budget, it helped in the sense that I did not have to worry about her personal expenses. My salary was very good for my age and for my status as a single individual, and once I got to be disciplined in my expenses, it proved to be enough for my new status too. I couldn’t believe it, it was like a miracle, as soon as I got married I was able not only to cover all my expenses as a head of a household, but, much to my own amazement, I was able to save money, for awhile I truly thought that God was repeating with us the miracle of the multiplication of the bread and the fish. The fact of the matter is that we were never short of anything essential, and we were even able to have little luxuries here and there.
About six weeks after we got married, Fanny told me she had started to feel a bit different. “I feel kind of sleepy at work”, she said one day, and added “I also feel like I have a bit of nausea”. I felt a mixture of confusion, anxiety, curiosity, excitement and hope. Confusion because I wasn’t sure if what she had was a symptom of fragile health, or was it just the first symptoms of being pregnant. I felt anxiety because, deep in my mind I was really hoping she was pregnant but at the same time I though it was too early for that, I felt excitement because I really wanted to be a father. And, finally, I was hoping that it wasn’t anything serious with her health but it was what I had been dreaming…we were going to have a child!
Within two weeks our best wishes were confirmed, Fanny was diagnosed as pregnant, and soon after, her tummy started to grow incredibly fast, she had begun to gain a lot of weight, she had a lot of nausea, any time and and anywhere, and, of course, she began to feel the “urgent need for some things to eat”. The first three months of her pregnancy were plagued of all the above. Sometimes she woke me up late at night and asked me to take her to eat “carne en palito” a kind of barbecued meat cooked on charcoal, and served with a little wooden stick like a shishkabab. They used to make it in a place about 20 minutes away from home. It was pathetic, but at the same time it was fun, because I liked living though, and participating in the process of her pregnancy in the day to day, howev er, it wasn’t fun some other times when she was vomiting her carne en palito, right after her late dining session.


FANNY AND SOME OF HER FRIENDS AT THE RECEPTION

Right after the first three months of pregnancy, Fanny started to feel better, the anxiety for eating was gone and the nausea as well. Everything was smooth now; her tummy was growing so fast, it almost grew before my eyes. The bigger her tummy, the more beautiful she looked to me, If anything, I was crazy about the whole thing, I already started to feel like a “father” and we started to talk about the name for the baby. If a boy, he would have my name so he would be a junior, but if it was a girl, Fanny wanted to name her “Maria Auxiliadora” (“Mariuxi”) the name of Virgin Mary in an advocacy of which she was a great devote of. Our discussion centered about the fact that I also wanted to name the baby after my mom, which Fanny did not disagree with, so we would name our baby (if it was a girl) Maria Auxiliadora Lucrecia. We had a deal on the names. In the meantime, Fanny gained 40 pounds by the time she completed her nineth month of pregnancy. Since she is small (5'4), she started to look like a walking ball, and she still was beautiful!
In my next posting: MARIUXI IS BORN

GETTING MARRIED, A TOUGH DECISION TO MAKE

RIO DE JANEIRO-THE WORLDWIDE FAMOUS
COPACABANA BEACH


In June 1973, back from the conference in Brazil and my holidays in Chile, I was assigned to several jobs in Guayaquil, Quito and Cuenca and I was also given the responsibility of training one of my assistants to support me in tax matters. It was by this time that I began to think that I should take my personal matters a little more seriously, particularly in what relates to my relationship with Fanny, whom I had been dating for over four years already. I was seriously in a mood to propose her, but I still had this hidden fear of getting married, a fear which as you may all know, arose from my sudden and irresponsible marriage in 1964. So, I had this internal conflict, I had become 31, I was not a kid any more, I wanted to have a wife, a home, a place of my own to come and rest, a confidant companion, a person to share my life with, someone to tell my good and bad things of the day before going to sleep, someone to hug, kiss and make love to, and someone to wake me up with a kiss in the mornings, but, at the same time I was afraid of losing my freedom, of becoming dependant, of being “chained” to one place and one person, and no longer being able to do what I wanted, when I wanted it, with whoever I wanted for as long as I wanted. It was a terrible conflict, which I guess it is a conflict that most men may have when they have lived a life as free and as self sufficient as the one I had been having for the previous four and a half years.


SANTIAGO THE BEAUTIFUL CAPITAL OF CHILE

It was trying to deal with all this conflict those days when one night I was “caught” by Fanny when I was taking a girl friend to her home as I was coming out of work. I assume she thought my friend and I were getting “closer than acceptable between friends” in the car, and that was enough for Fanny, that was the drop that spilled the glass. She stopped our relationship altogether, she did not answer or return my calls, nor she would accept any invitation to talk personally. A month went by and she and I did not see each other. I felt terribly bad for this outing, and I had to do something to reverse it. So, one night in early August I decided that I would see and talk to her at her home, “no matter what”, and will ask her to marry me as soon as possible. So I went to see her, only to find out she wasn’t there, she had gone to visit her grandpa whose birthday was being celebrated that night. Since I had finally made my mind, I decided that I would go and find her wherever she was and whomever she was with. So I did, and at about nine o’clock, on July 30 of 1973, I entered Fanny’s grandpa’s apartment, and after briefly greeting everyone, I asked Fanny to come apart and talk to me, which she accepted. The loud music in the living room and the people’s loud talking could be heard in the background, but that did not prevent me from telling Fanny that I was sorry for everything that had happened in the past, and that I had decided to ask her to allow me to share the rest of my life with her, I was almost trembling as I was talking and she must have seen it in my eyes that I was damn serious about what I was saying, she must have felt that I really meant every one of my words, so, in a matter of five minutes of talking, she embraced me, she said she loved me as much as I loved her and that she accepted to marry me!. We asked her mother (who never liked me very much) to come and listen to what we had just decided. She drew a light smile in her face and said she was giving her blessing to our decision. Fanny’s mother and father had split many years back and he had not played any significant role as a father since Fanny was eight. Nevertheless, Fanny was going to communicate with him and let him know about our decision. A few minutes later Fanny and I decided that we would marry on Saturday September 1, just a month away. We needed to run, time started to fly.


BUENOS AIRES ONE OF THE MOST BEAUTIFUL
CAPITALS OF LATIN AMERICA
I had my own family to communicate the news to; my family was made of Lilita, my dear sister and surrogate mother and her husband Lolo whom I respected and loved as if they were my own parents. I also had to tell my father who was living by himself in Pallatanga, my home village.

I came home that night and asked Lilita and Lolo to listen to me, they knew it was something important and paid close attention to every one of my words, I was not really asking their consent to do what I was going to do, but I was very respectfully telling them about my decision and asking for their blessing.
My sister Lilita showed me once more how mush she loved me. She said “Rafico, I had seen you grow from a young and smart little kid, to become a responsible and caring professional man, I believe you deserve to have your own family, you are already 31, and it is just natural that you get married and have your own family”, she then added “you have my blessing, you can count on me, I don’t feel like I’ll be losing a son, instead, I feel like I’ll be gaining another daughter, that’s the way I feel and you can tell that to your future wife”. She ended her little speech with her eyes wet, she was very emotional and almost crying; “I love you Rafico, I love you as much as I love my own children and I can’t tell you I’ll miss you, because I expect you to remain close to us after your marriage”. I was also sobbing and when I rose from my chair to go and embrace my sister who was sitting right across the dining table, I noticed Lolo was also silently sobbing. He didn’t say a word, he only stood up and embraced me and let his emotions flow unrestricted. The three of us remained silently sobbing and embracing one another for several minutes before we noticed that their four children, who were supposed to be in bed since it was late at night, had somehow found out what was going on, and had been hiding and silently watching the whole scene and were also sobbing. A minute later we were all embracing one another just as one solidly united family would.
The next step was to let my father, who was in Pallatanga, know about our marriage. I made a special trip to let him know. He was also very emotional and for the third time in my life, I saw him cry; only this time it was clearly because he felt very happy about his son. I told him I wanted him and to be my best man, while my sister Lilita would be my God Mother and would take my mother’s place in the church’s ceremony, and so it was.
A month passed by and the big day arrived, we would have our marriage take place at the Church of St Juan Bosco, the priest who will bless our marriage would be Father Guido Camilotto, an Italian priest who was the dean of the parish. Camilotto was a man who had lived in Guayaquil for over thirty years and was a real follower of the Ten Commandments, but more than anything else he was a man who loved God and helped his fellow men and women for the love of Jesus Christ.
In my next posting: A HAPPILY MARRIED MAN