TBOC 02: Author's Note

Author’s Note

Why I Wrote This Book

Why title this “The Book of Carlos!?” I suppose when I think about it, I probably could have come up with a much better title. However, after giving it some thought, I said to myself, “Why not? Afterall, it is about a life lived by a man named Carlos. That’s me!” It beat what I was originally going to call it, “Tardy…Mommy Wants You!”

I will have to explain the origins of that phrase in a future entry.

Whenever I hear a title start with … “The Book Of ….” For example, The Book of Love, The Book of John, The Book of Clean Living, The Book of Bad Fashion, etcetera. I understand it to mean that it is a collection of stories, articles, images or other forms of media that tells a story about a real person, place, event, or thing.

So, in this case, The Book of Carlos! Made sense to me.

The Book of Carlos began as a quiet whisper, a personal effort to make sense of all I had lived through—faith and failure, mercy and memory, and everything in between. What started as reflection became resurrection. A way to stitch together the scattered pieces of my past into something not just coherent, but sacred.

I didn’t write this for sympathy. I wrote it for truth.

Because truth, even when it’s painful, is liberating. And when it’s written down with honesty and grace, it becomes something more than memory—it becomes a bridge. A bridge between generations. Between reader and writer. Between whom I was, and who I am still becoming.

So, if you’re reading this, thank you.

Thank you for letting these pages be more than recollection. Thank you for seeing me.

And maybe, just maybe, seeing a bit of yourself too.

Let me be clear from the beginning: I am not writing this to hear myself talk. I am not writing to impress anyone, to earn pity or praise, or to make myself the center of anything.

This is not about recognition. It has never been.

God knows sinners like me don’t wear the crown of public sainthood. I don’t deserve that honor. And I’m not seeking—a crown. Sainthood, yes. A crown. No.

I write these entries as a legacy—for my children, for my grandchildren, for anyone who might someday wonder what my life was really like beneath the snapshots and silences. This is the testimony of a man who has walked through success and failure, poverty and grace, shame and laughter, sin and redemption, and the fragile human spaces in between.

But more than anything, I want whoever reads this manuscript or listens to the audio version of this entry to understand what anchored me.

I love God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I love the Blessed Mother. I love the Church, the angels and the saints—not always perfectly, but persistently. I cherish both family and friendship. And I learned—sometimes painfully, sometimes joyfully—that love and prayer, faith and trust, and ultimately abandonment of self to Christ is the only true way to live.

By the world’s standards, I may not have been a success. But what the world calls success has never mattered much to the heart of God. And that is good enough for me.

It is enough—more than enough—for me to finally rest in this truth:

That God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, in union with Our Lady, the angels, and the saints... is enough for me.

That’s why I write.

Carlos Michael