Shed your tears now
Cry for the clean water you drink
Cry for the light at night
Cry for the safety in our streets
Cry for the roads you drive on
Cry for the family alive that you love
Cry for the friends you cherish
Cry for the society you have shared
Soon, too soon, all your tears will be shed
Your water will be soiled
Your light will be gone
Your safety will be lost
Your roads will be shattered
Your family will be smaller
Your friends will expire
Your society will not endure
Perhaps we can still save ourselves. To do so we must elect new leaders who understand prioritization, who are not the puppets of power, but leaders through prescience and compassion. We need leaders who are not the victors of the downtrodden, but the heroes of our future. Men and women who look past what other’s want to hear to what we cannot afford to hear. We cannot afford to hear that Ebola is airborne. We cannot afford to hear that borders are open. We cannot afford to hear that our healthcare system, weakened and riddled by the prosperity of assured payments and specialized medicine is prepared and capable of handling Ebola. Our healthcare system is woefully inadequate. Is our healthcare system in your home? Is it at your work place? Is it sitting on the park bench? Are their members brothers and sisters of the massive homeless population, the auger of Ebola. Who will protect us from those who don’t know, don’t care, and won’t act?
We have one hope and one hope only, that you, the populace recognizes the danger and acts accordingly.
My mother is 90, she lost her mom at 6, her father at 9, her grandmother at 17, and her uncle at 21 to TB. She was in a sanitarium for 9 months in a ward with 50 other women at the war’s end in 1945. After four years of marriage she lost her first son to drowning. When she was 40 they operated on her lungs to remove TB. At 60 the doctors removed a tumor wrapped around her hearing canal and paralyzed the left side of her face. Her husband died after 15 long years of parkinson’s disease.
My mother is the happiest, kindest, most positive woman I know. Today we went to the movie, “The Heat”, and to dinner at Mangia Mia in Danville. I am grateful that life has given me the opportunity to live with my mother when I am an adult and share some of her life. Nothing has, and nothing ever will, mean more to me than the time we have shared together.
LIfe is, of course spectacular. I am grateful for the people I have met in my life, especially the women I have been able to call friends. Recently I broke up with someone I loved knowing that over time it cannot work for me. No matter how hard I try to rationalize my decision it still feels horrible to give up on someone who is good for me. In life, some decisions, must be made, not for yourself, or for the moment, but for the next 10,000 moments. This was one of those decisions. Very painful. I am sorry Brenda. I wish you a better man than me.
Yeah, we all think it, “What a day?” Really. Didn’t you wake up? Ok, so there was a little pain. Big deal. Your morning started by opening the refrigerator door to get cream when a glass jar of spagetti sauce tumbled to the floor spattering tomato sauce and glass across the kitchen. The dog rushed into the kitchen, ran through the sauce onto the white rug. So big deal. Your daughter heard the noise, pattered into kitchen and cut her foot on the shards that had spread to the furthest edges of the universe. Damn. Life sucks. Really. Really. You fix the cut, pick up the shards, mop the floor, take the trash out and the garage door breaks. Really. Your husband calls from workout and says he’s having breakfast with his friends. You were looking forward to going for a walk with the dog with him. Really. But then, you go for the walk and the dog is very happy. As you go out the door the sun warms your skin and a quite breeze strikes your face. The grass has greened over night. The fresh odor of grass and flowers strikes your nose. The sound of children laughing wafts into your hearing. The tinkling from wind chimes stirs your heart to the first time you met your husband. The dog looks at you with true love.
I am grateful for the pain in my life
I am grateful for the emotional pain I have suffered
I am grateful for the disabilities that have taught me to overcome
I am grateful for the realization that I will not live forever
I am grateful for those I resent because they teach me to understand
I am grateful for those who are less fortunate because I see their love of life in their eyes
I am grateful for belief systems that allow many to view the world in wonder
I am grateful for the threats that keep my skills sharp
I am grateful for my loves
I am grateful for my children
I am grateful for strength
I am grateful for power
I am grateful for weakness
I am grateful for what is and will always love life in the diversity of experience it provides us.