When you think about the elction this year. Think about the fact that most people in this country are struggling. Struggling to make ends meet. Struggling to stay above water as the bills come in faster and faster without reasoning. When a family cannot afford medical insurance because they don't meet a determined allotment for what your income needs to be below.
Its exactly the same as saying to someone who is hungry that they can havea cracker because that will help with the hunger pain.
That is why 8 more years of Republican rule is not an option. We cannot elect Sen McCain.
There is no one that I know that has done better in the last 8 years. In fact, everyone I know, no matter the religion, race or creed has only succeeded in one thin. It is being deeper in debt.
That is not fair for what we were promised if we served, acted, voted and did what was expected.
I leave you with the quote from Senator Barack Obama's acceptance speech last night to ponder.
"America, we cannot turn back. Not with so much work to be done. Not with so many children to educate, and so many veterans to care for. Not with an economy to fix and cities to rebuild and farms to save. Not with so many families to protect and so many lives to mend. America, we cannot turn back. We cannot walk alone. At this moment, in this election, we must pledge once more to march into the future. Let us keep that promise - that American promise - and in the words of Scripture hold firmly, without wavering, to the hope that we confess."
Friday, August 29, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Silence so great
The silence around the house is so great sometimes.
Death of a parent teaches you lessons about yourself. You never really know you can feel until that moment arrives. It's a hurt that is so deep within you that you wish you could just stick your hand inside and pull it out. You want to know why the sun still rises and sets. You want to know how people can laugh and smile when you feel as if the mountains should fall and the worlde cease. It is a feeling so deep that you can not express it. You think you wil not be able to stand. I was able to get up the next morning. each day that passes, I think of her. When I walk in the house anxious to inform her of my day's activities it then I realize she is not sitting in her chair. When I get ready for bed. I pass her darkened bedroom,longing to go and sit on her bed and recap as I did every night before bed. Though something odd has begun to happen. I won't tell you that its easy. I won't dare say it doesn't hurt. I will say though.... I am okay.
I look back upon her life and realize that there is such a great story. My mother was a great woman. She raised herself and managed to put herself through school. My younger brother and I were her greatest accomplishments she would always say. Never was there a person who was kinder, loved deeper or was more sincere than my mother.
It has only been 3 weeks and 2 days. I think about her every second of each day but not in a sad way. The way she fought the awful disease of COPD should be commended. She fought with every fiber of her body and I know she did it for me, my brother and my dad. Always known to be a tough customer she tried her best but at the end the disease just ravaged her.
I have no regrets as I told her I loved her and I knew she understood it on that Sunday evening before I left to go home. I was there as much as I could be at the hospital. Every day after work I went. Each day the news from the doctors grew more dire and dire. Yet I hoped beyond all hopes that they could fix her. I prayed ever the more fervently that they could cure her.
To no avail my prayers were not answered. As my dad and I drove up and down Atlantic Avenue for the month of July in my car the silence between us spoke volumes. It was the moments that we did not speak that made us realize what we knew was surely coming. We tried to remind each other of what a great fighter my mother is. We tried encouraging each other, but in the back of our minds there was always that slight possibility. The possibility that neither of us dared speak.
When the end came it was swift, just like the bible passage. It was truly a thief.
I do not mourn the exit in the road. I mourn the journey that got us to it. I know she knew we loved her. I know she knew that we never left her alone. She loved us. Sometimes she would just hold on to me and my brother's hands as tightly as she could. I really believe that when my Lord calls me home. She will be waiting on the other side, to guide me.
I have said over and over that her last days were very similiar to the crucifixion. For me it was like watching it in real time. As she became weaker and weaker, her body started to fill with fluid and everywhere they went they would draw water not blood. Her breaths grew more and more labored. She thirsted but we could not give her water. She laid in a bed with a trach in her throat asking, almost pleading for a drink of water and we could not give it to her. Often, she would be bowled over with frustration when we said no. Then she requested to go home. Oh, how I wished we could have gotten her home one last time to her bed. It was not to be. On August 5, 2008 she expired. The sun was as bright as it could be and the weather warm. I often find it funny how on the most tragic of days in your life the weather is crystal clear beautiful.
The legacy she leaves is all the wonderful, great things she taught me and my brother, all the people she helped in small and big ways. If there is a lesson to be learned, it is ... bare all things , pray and always move forward and do not ever look back. It's when you look back you trip and fall as you are not looking where you are going.
She knew of love lost and children buried. She knew of great disappointments and awful out comes. She knew of betrayals and loneliness. She knew of great sickness and great tribulation. She knew of great pride and strength. She knew how to love completely with every fiber of her being and what friendship was and what it cost. She survived it all for 69 years.
Too short if you were to ask me. Then again, I am not God. For it is written to everything there is a season.
I end this by saying THANK YOU MOMMA.
I hope I can be half the woman you were.
Death of a parent teaches you lessons about yourself. You never really know you can feel until that moment arrives. It's a hurt that is so deep within you that you wish you could just stick your hand inside and pull it out. You want to know why the sun still rises and sets. You want to know how people can laugh and smile when you feel as if the mountains should fall and the worlde cease. It is a feeling so deep that you can not express it. You think you wil not be able to stand. I was able to get up the next morning. each day that passes, I think of her. When I walk in the house anxious to inform her of my day's activities it then I realize she is not sitting in her chair. When I get ready for bed. I pass her darkened bedroom,longing to go and sit on her bed and recap as I did every night before bed. Though something odd has begun to happen. I won't tell you that its easy. I won't dare say it doesn't hurt. I will say though.... I am okay.
I look back upon her life and realize that there is such a great story. My mother was a great woman. She raised herself and managed to put herself through school. My younger brother and I were her greatest accomplishments she would always say. Never was there a person who was kinder, loved deeper or was more sincere than my mother.
It has only been 3 weeks and 2 days. I think about her every second of each day but not in a sad way. The way she fought the awful disease of COPD should be commended. She fought with every fiber of her body and I know she did it for me, my brother and my dad. Always known to be a tough customer she tried her best but at the end the disease just ravaged her.
I have no regrets as I told her I loved her and I knew she understood it on that Sunday evening before I left to go home. I was there as much as I could be at the hospital. Every day after work I went. Each day the news from the doctors grew more dire and dire. Yet I hoped beyond all hopes that they could fix her. I prayed ever the more fervently that they could cure her.
To no avail my prayers were not answered. As my dad and I drove up and down Atlantic Avenue for the month of July in my car the silence between us spoke volumes. It was the moments that we did not speak that made us realize what we knew was surely coming. We tried to remind each other of what a great fighter my mother is. We tried encouraging each other, but in the back of our minds there was always that slight possibility. The possibility that neither of us dared speak.
When the end came it was swift, just like the bible passage. It was truly a thief.
I do not mourn the exit in the road. I mourn the journey that got us to it. I know she knew we loved her. I know she knew that we never left her alone. She loved us. Sometimes she would just hold on to me and my brother's hands as tightly as she could. I really believe that when my Lord calls me home. She will be waiting on the other side, to guide me.
I have said over and over that her last days were very similiar to the crucifixion. For me it was like watching it in real time. As she became weaker and weaker, her body started to fill with fluid and everywhere they went they would draw water not blood. Her breaths grew more and more labored. She thirsted but we could not give her water. She laid in a bed with a trach in her throat asking, almost pleading for a drink of water and we could not give it to her. Often, she would be bowled over with frustration when we said no. Then she requested to go home. Oh, how I wished we could have gotten her home one last time to her bed. It was not to be. On August 5, 2008 she expired. The sun was as bright as it could be and the weather warm. I often find it funny how on the most tragic of days in your life the weather is crystal clear beautiful.
The legacy she leaves is all the wonderful, great things she taught me and my brother, all the people she helped in small and big ways. If there is a lesson to be learned, it is ... bare all things , pray and always move forward and do not ever look back. It's when you look back you trip and fall as you are not looking where you are going.
She knew of love lost and children buried. She knew of great disappointments and awful out comes. She knew of betrayals and loneliness. She knew of great sickness and great tribulation. She knew of great pride and strength. She knew how to love completely with every fiber of her being and what friendship was and what it cost. She survived it all for 69 years.
Too short if you were to ask me. Then again, I am not God. For it is written to everything there is a season.
I end this by saying THANK YOU MOMMA.
I hope I can be half the woman you were.
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