The Painful Holiday

The celebration will last 24 hrs but the hurt seems to never end.  Mother's Day is just six days away and I hope to breathe a bit easier on May 10.  At times, the pain is so severe that last Mother's Day seems like a dream.  Did it really happen?  The little one was just four months old and was the love of my life.  Everything seemed to be going so well.  Yeah, we had bumps along the way, but I was so thankful to be reconnected.  Now, just 365 days later, I can only hold on to memories and be thankful for the amazing women that are in my life. 
Happy Mother's Day.

Shake the Dust by Anis Mojgani

Take Back the Night

I am in awe of the elasticity of the human spirit
how it can stretch wide
paper thin
let people in
slide our pain
out of our grieving
heaving hearts
and let it land
heavy and true
in the gentle hands
of this loving space
a gift spun of
shared sorrows
of threads of experience
we wish did not connect us,
bind us
tie us, together
in this long march
for a justice that is our birthright
stolen
behind closed doors
slammed shut by
individuals' and society's
discomfort
with dirty truths.
They say a spider's web
is stronger than its equivalent in steel
I believe in this
delicate haven we've
woven tonight
and hope teardrops
become prisms
to reflect the morning's sun
because morning will come
and we will be there to rise with it.


-by Jean Leonard, PhD.

90% of child sexual abuse is committed by someone known, trusted or related to the child.

Does anyone care?

Provincial elections are set to begin in Sudan next week.  Elections that have been in the works since at least 2005.  An election would be a breakthrough for this devastated country.  But now it's falling apart and it will probably only get worse.  The government thrives on intimidation and threats, making empty promises to people desperate for relief.  Civil war will likely resume and many more will be killed.  Evidently more than 2 million dead isn't enough.  Women and young girls raped, children mutilated, little boys taken into slavery, families burned alive in their huts.  No war is okay, acceptable or justified.  But war in Sudan is brutal, unfathomable, possibly the closest thing to hell on earth.
I have seen the faces of those who survived war.  I have walked through a village that was bombed, raided and burned to the ground.  I have seen people drinking contaminated and disease laden river water because dead bodies were placed in their clean water wells.  I have seen young children with stick figure bodies and protruding bellies due to severe malnutrition and protein deficiency.  I've held babies too dehydrated to muster a cry.  I've seen a grandmother attempt to produce milk from her own breast for her orphaned grandson.  I've met men, with tribal symbols etched into their foreheads, who tell stories of men on horseback who rode through the marketplace and killed everyone in sight.  I have cared for a mother and her newborn, all the while wondering how this mother can love her fifth baby when the previous four have died due to entirely preventable and treatable reasons.  I learned that a mother is a mother anywhere in the world.  A mother who has experienced such grief and loss is still capable of loving again.  Even more surprising to me, she loves without condition and without limit.  She loves her baby everyday of its life, not knowing if tomorrow will be the last.  Loving and nurturing her little one, her touch is gentle and her heart is full.
I hope someone cares.

The Future

So I'm 27 years old.  So far, it's been a good year.  It also feels like there are some new ventures up ahead. 
Here are some things I am pondering:
-graduation from nursing school May 2011 (the 20th, if you really want to know)
-transition into a new role at hospice as an RN
-purchasing a home
-continue to pursue my goal of foster care/adoption
-create my own family, made up of those people dearest to me, those not related by blood
-would love to return to Africa, although I'm not quite sure what that looks like or when that will happen
-need to keep walking down this long road of healing, seeking wholeness and health in all aspects of my life

There's just so much to do...

The Difficult Road

The Journey
by Mary Oliver


One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice—
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do—
determined to save
the only life you could save.

Missing you

Dear Sweet Boy,

I was thinking about you today.  Like I do every day.  My heart feels heavier than usual today because of how much I miss you.  An acquaintance that I haven't seen in a few months asked about you the other day.  I didn't know what to say.  My eyes got watery.  I quickly changed the subject.  A friend's little boy, who is about your age, is building up quite a vocabulary.  I wonder what you are saying these days.  I would love to be able to teach you words, like car, hot, or kitty.  It would be fun to make animal sounds too.  I remember how much you used to smile when I made the sound of a horsey.  

You will experience your first Easter egg hunt this year.  I wonder what that will be like for you.  You will look adorable holding your basket, I know that for sure.  I try to imagine what you look like.  If I didn't have pictures, I'm afraid you would feel like a figment of my imagination.  Your Christmas picture is the last one I have of you.  It hangs on my refrigerator so I can see you everyday.  I have a special box and journal for you.  I hope one day I can give it to you.  So far, I have saved one of your burp cloths, a onesie you slept in at my house, your books, diaper pad, toys, even your little spoons.  I also put in the sippy cup you never used.  I bought that before you were even born.  I will probably add your Easter card to the box and all the pictures I have of you.

Sweet boy, know that Auntie Carli loves you more than you will ever realize. Even if you don't know who I am. 
xoxo