.130 day 113

psa: i do not celebrate christmas.

this is not a stab at christianity as much as it's a personal decline to participate in western civilization's depiction of such. the tree, the lights, the santa, the elves, the reindeer, the snowman, it's all too much for me to wrap my mind around. i love imagination as much as the next being, but mass imagination has never been good. 

that being said, this hypocritical blog is fueled by the love of my mother, the memories of my childhood and being able to buy gifts for my own child unabashedly. i remember the excitement of being awakened by my older brother. of sneaking downstairs at the crack of dawn to find a bouquet of presents under the tree and a drained and sleeping mother on the couch. 

since kindergarden, i knew the truth (my brother made sure of that). knew that mom's hard work and intense love, bought those gifts to our home. and mom, a piscean baptist, made sure i knew my father's sacrifices, as well. that he, the piscean muslim, would donate his entire paycheck to her cause (never actively participating) but lovingly feigning surprise when i called to tell him all i'd gotten.

and now that he is gone, and i, my mother and child are leaning on each other so intensely, i've softened a bit. it's not that deep. my values are still in tact. my mother loves christmas. hasn't celebrated in years because she loves her children. but we needed a boost. a happy mix of nothingness. of pretty gifts and cinnamon scented candles. of awkward family moments and underlining love. we smiled. we laughed. we took turns playing with toots and picture taking. my mom seemed at peace. and for a while, so was té and i. we, the reproductive team of toots. we, the estranged, now struggling to close the gap, parental unit. we, who learned, that life happens even in the midst of fairy-tales. our story is a skewed one. nothing is as it seems. supernaturally -severed- but there is beauty in it's ugliness...

taken by té

this piano rocks. (a gift from her father)

taken by té

taken by té

taken by té

.69 day 57

dear hurricane sandy: hasn't haiti dealt with enough?

i ventured outside today. cabin fever settled in and my emotions moved faster than this storm's sudden wind. saw toppled lawn chairs, and trees, but nothing alarming to signal a hurricane had passed. i suppose i am lucky. i am blessed. i am fortunate. but for sure, i am grateful. i am dry. my child is safe. worst residual lying within the confines of shady internet and cell phone service. i say a prayer for the soul's who have passed, and the souls left behind to mourn them. then, i look to the trees, and smile, for they are resilient. standing strong through the worst of weathers, worst of life, while holding secrets and history in the palm of their branch. they keep me hopeful. they keep me striving. they keep me strong. my silent theme music, my goal in life, to simply learn to live life as a tree.