Archive for Month: January, 2010
God Bless America
The young man on the right is my Godsister Linda’s son, Robert.
Robert was killed in Afghanistan yesterday.
At the age of nineteen.
I recently reconnected with Linda. I know how proud she was of her Robert.
I also know how much worried.
* * * * *
Tonight, a sniffly and sneezy, Vicks vapo rubbed, David fell asleep in my arms. I rocked him back and forth and whispered “I love you” in his ear. Thoughts turned to Linda and Robert; he, her baby, as well. Undoubtedly she held him in her arms sixteen-some-odd years ago, whispering her dreams in his ear, whispering sweetness in his ear. Like only a mother can do.
I pray that Linda holds on to those memories of her sweet, baby boy. I pray she remembers only the good memories. I pray she can heal from the sadness and misery she is feeling right now.
Oh, the pain. Oh, the heartache.
Reunited
I’m sure he missed us all, but I’m positively sure he missed his little buddy the most.
Tonight Davey woke up a little after going to bed and was quite confused. He was crying about the train, the airplane, going to “Mama’s house”, and how he didn’t want to go on or to any of those. Only two seconds later to shriek that he wanted to go on or to any of those. Poor kid. Traveling is tough for adults, let alone a precocious three year old.
He did well, but there will be no more traveling, in his future, for a long while.
It’s time… It’ time to buckle down into the second semester of school for Ze Bigs. It’s time to get back to routines. It’s time to readjust and breathe easier. It’s time to develop a menu and exercise plan. It’s time to be positive and it’s time to leave the negative behind. It’s time to kiss goodnight and wake up refreshed and ready to face the day.
Time is like the wind, it lifts the light and leaves the heavy.—Doménico Cieri Estrada
Goodbye House, Hello Home
In the morning
I am leaving
Going back home
The time spent here
Tumultuous
And Taxing
For now, I don’t know when
I’ll return
The cold of the winter
The cracking of skin and hearts
In the morning
I am leaving
Going back to me
Nervous No More
One of the few people that I’ve never felt judged me was my Grandfather, my Dedo. The others–my mother, my father, my grandmother, many other faceless, insignificant people–brought forth this feeling in me that, in recent years, has turned to resentment. I resent being judged. I resent being nervous about how they see me. I resent not having luscious, super-good feelings. I resent not being respected.
That’s what it boils down to: To give respect, you have to give respect. {He respects me, and I respect him.}
I’m not that naïve girl anymore.
No–
I will not be walked on.
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