Countdown to a Spanish Dream

Early in my life, my biological father, Michael Silvan Ruiz, asked me to travel to Spain to meet the Ruiz family he'd met in the early 1970s.  He wanted to introduce his daughter to them and his quasi-homeland to me.  Over time, we could never coordinate timelines.  In the interim, he saw a dream of his come true in areas of his life that his siblings and mother shared vicariously through his actions and stories.

During his first trip to Spain, he was filled with excitement and anticipation along with a bulging briefcase filled with photographs, notes and pedigree charts he'd gathered from his mother and father's memory and memorabilia.  He began in Fuentesauco, the village of his mother's family:  the SILVAN lineage.  At that time, he wrote a letter to his sister, Rose, outlining the wonder of being there, finding a very poor family who opened their arms and hearts to him and later a very wealthy Silvan relative who pushed him away.  He could only surmise that they were ashamed they would allow the poor relatives to live in such disarray. 

He became entrenched in his Spanish heritage and would travel to Spain many times afterward.  During the course of meeting more Ruiz cousins, he started thinking about Winters, California (where he grew up) and Almogia (where his Spanish relatives hailed from).  By the early 1990s, his dream became reality.   Winters and Almogia became SISTER CITIES and it was with great pride that he raised the Almogia flag in Winters to commemorate the dream.

Then, my father purchased land in Spain among the cousins and proceeded to build a round house.  My brother (Steven) spent several summer vacations during the building process and in exchange, he became part of the Ruiz cousin realm and learned the language and loved the family there.  My brother, Rick, went one year also and meeting Ruiz relatives and being part of the building process was very special to him. 

My father asked me several times to travel to Spain and be part of the house, the family and his life.  By then, my family kept me home and so did the budget.  I ached to go.....but the time still wasn't right.

In the late 1990s, my dream of going to Spain moved closer to reality but there seemed always something to block my trip.  My father asked a couple more times and by the early 2000s, he was forced to sell the round house, leaving his dream of living in Spain behind --- his wife was ill and so was he. 

His briefcase still bulged with photos, documents and pedigree charts.  He knew he had to pass on the torch for a younger generation to pick up and run with it.  Now, I have the torch and the time but unfortunately time ran out for my father.  He died in September of 2006.  Now, six years later, I am finally holding an airline ticket and notes I have researched on my own.  Nobody knows where his briefcase full of genealogy landed and it breaks my heart to think of the loss but I will soon SEE Almogia for myself -- along with my brother, Steven.  I share his love of Spain and nobody can imagine the depth and breadth of emotion one feels touching one's ancestors homeland until they do it for the first time.  Steven speaks of his first time with deep emotion.  Now it is my turn and my only regret is not sharing it with my father, who wanted so much to be part of that dream.
Countdown for lift off: 30 days