Who am I?

My name is Fabian...

My name as well as my life was a gift to me by two of the most wonderful people I have ever known....my parents. The aforementioned start of my life took place in Buenos Aires, Argentina in the year 1963 nearly three years after the birth of my only sibling Patricia.

Having been possessed of a tremendous yearning for the opportunities that existed in the USA for as long as he could remember, my father Mauricio sold nearly all of what little we owned and came here to Michigan less than 30 miles from where I now compose this biographical piece of literature. He then began to work day and night in a newly born ritual that would last nearly 30 years. Within six months he had rented an apartment, purchased a used vehicle and saved up enough to bring my Mother, sister and myself to join him. I was 1 1/2 years old and my sister was 4 1/2 when we arrived. Dad had taped suckers and other candies to the walls which instantly put a smile on my sister's (Ptrish as I call her) face but even though I have no memory of it, I am told that I did not recognize Dad and even cried when he approached. How that must have hurt him.... a man who would quickly lay down his own life if it meant that he could prevent any suffering on the part of a family member.

I grew up in Oak Park, Michigan.... a small middle class town with a friendly and diverse population. By the time I graduated in 1981, we had quite the cosmopolitan school. I routinely shared the halls with kids that were Jewish, Christian, white, black, Arabic, Lebanese, Turkish, and more. I'm not sure if I was popular, but I'm pretty sure that I was not a pariah either. I look back on school with fond memories not the least of which were palling around with my circle of friends and of course my first love Bonnie who I am still friends with through the wonders of the Facebook portion of my existence.

Before graduating school and fresh from a break up with Bonnie, I met Lamea Lirato, a young lady about a year older than myself fresh off the boat (or plane that is) from Iraq. She was a very sweet, unspoiled girl, barely aware of how beautiful she was. It would seem that her friend Tassia was in to me and wanted Lamea to see me. At the time I was working at A&P supermarket as a bagger. Well, although Tassia did nothing for me, Lamea seemed to get my motor keenly running. Four years, a conversion to Catholicism, and a Bachelors degree later we were married and on our way. Unbeknownst to me however, the way ahead was bleak and painful.................