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Floodgates.

I am not a crier. For ONE reason. Once I start to cry, I absolutely cannot stop. Nothing can be done to stop my crying. It comes in waves and lasts for days. 975 more words

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Floodgates.

I am not a crier. For ONE reason. Once I start to cry, I absolutely cannot stop. Nothing can be done to stop my crying. It comes in waves and lasts for days. Typically after my cry fest I get sick with a cold or fever because my body just shuts down. This has been a very exhausting 7 days. I learned that my body is toxic with iron and I had to get a pint of blood drawn. After I had the blood drawn I got chills and my bones and joints ached. I was told this is the iron being pulled from the tissues. That night I started a new medication to lower my heart rate. I was awake all night long. The med wired me. The next morning on the way to therapy I started slurring my words. I felt completly drunk/drugged. The med was extended release and it must have hit me 12 hours after I took it. My therapist had me call the doctor’s office that prescribed it because I was obviously having a big reaction from this medication. Then the specialist that has been overseeing my muscle disease case for 11 years, sent me an email that they have found a new genetic mutation and he wants to test my blood for it. After 11 years, we have yet to find the mutation causing this muscle disease. The fact that this doctor in England is still willing to try to help me, a person he has never met that lives in the US, gives me hope. During this week we have had a foster dog Jillian. A few days ago I noticed scars on her neck from her previous owner putting her in a collar that caused wounds and scarring. We knew she had had a hard life already by her submissive cowering. I wanted to keep her. Our family loved her. But I noticed I was allergic. I tried everything possible to NOT be allergic but it was what it was. We had to take Jillian back to the rescue. The beautiful part of this story is that Jillian immediately bonded with a woman looking for a dog after her own dog had recently passed away. Jillian’s story has a happy ending. When my husband took JIllian back I started to cry. This is the last time I will look at her picture for while because looking at my daughter holding her…I can’t bear it. We decided to go to Panera to pick up some food, buy some claritin, and distract me from my sadness. It didn’t work. I started crying in Panera while placing my order. I cried while waiting for my food as my husband hugged me right there in the middle of the restaurant. I cried all the way home and all night. It was Jillian. The innocent precious being that she was. Someone was so cruel to her and YET she still had the ability to love. She still had sweetness, gentleness, and love to give. I wanted to save her. I had to be okay with the fact that we were blessed with her for a week. But the knowledge and proof on her skin of the cruel world and cruel people broke my heart. It started the tears that I cannot stop. It reminded me of my need to be saved long ago. It reminded me of my scars. My husband then reminded me of my ability to still love in spite of everything that has been done to me. Even the IDEA that anyone would ever hurt Jillian again or that Jillian would not have love the rest of her life literally breaks my soul. Matters of the heart start my tears. I then cry for every wound, every other innocent animal, or human being, or child, that has been abused. I cry for the pain and suffering of others. I cry for the pain I never allowed myself to cry for when I was younger. My friend stopped by last night to bring me some food. Fortunately, she was able to stop my crying for a short time. I thought, Okay, I’m good. Went back inside, started crying again. Woke up crying. Woke up to anxiety and dread at the thoughts of what if Jillian isn’t okay. The strong need I have to make sure the innocent are not left alone and suffering and are loved is overwhelming to me. Just the idea that the innocent can be targeted and harmed makes me feel broken inside. This is how I have always been though. I know this about myself. I found an injured cardinal once with his mate chirping in the bush right next to him and I cried for days at the sorrow I thought that bird must feel losing his mate. I woke up this morning and my entire body hurt. Taking care of Jillian was harder than I had expected. I realized today that I would have never set up a boundary for my own body if we kept her. I would run myself in the ground making sure she had the perfect life. At this point my body is broken. With the bone disease, the muscle disease, the toxic iron, and the countless other things going one with me, I need to rest. I know this now. But that just makes me cry more. My body is so broken I cannot save a sweet dog who only wanted to be loved. I have to accept that a week of love from our whole family MEANS something in this life of cruelty. I have to hope that for now, that was enough. Sorrow. Innocence. Brokenness. Helplessness. Love. Loss. I cry deep in my soul for all of these things. But I never let the tears fall. I keep them inside because I know when the floodgates open, it may be awhile before I have the ability to close them again.

The Inang

Raul Saev and his two siblings were lying in bed. The moon shone brightly elsewhere, but not in their area. Raul looked out of the window. 1,716 more words

Stories

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The Inang

Raul Saev and his two siblings were lying in bed. The moon shone brightly elsewhere, but not in their area. Raul looked out of the window. The moon was full and bright, but for some unknown reason, the moon’s rays did not reach their home. Strange, he thought. There was an ominous feeling creeping into his nerves – as if some peculiar thing were to happen. Why did the moon not shine? It feels as if there was some kind of matter blocking the light – like a shadow cast over their roof, preventing light from getting into their home. The night deepened. All was still. It was very quiet – too quiet. Raul wondered if there was some occurrence in nature that rendered the silence of the crickets – the ones that usually make those chirping cricket sounds at night. He realized how comforting the cricket chirps actually were. Now that he does not hear a sound, he felt uneasy. There must be something wrong. *** Three days ago, Raul watched as his grandmother closed her eyes forever – shutting the gates to mortality and perhaps, opening them up again to another world. It was a peaceful exit, so to speak. There was no clamor from a crowd or a commotion of a sentimental sort; it was just like the shutting of the eyes to ordinary repose. “It is so like grandma,” Raul thought. He expected as much from an elderly who was all-too-prepared to enter eternal calm. He remembered his grandma telling him, “I’m ready to leave this place, appoko. I’m old and tired. I’m only waiting for grandpa to come fetch me.” Every time Raul’s grandma told him that, he shuddered. There is a terrifying feel to the thought of looming death. Raul thought that he would never be prepared for such a thing. ‘ But, as in all deaths, Death punctually arrives at the doorstep to claim; it did not fail to preserve its long-standing reputation of promptness. Hence, at half past four of that afternoon, Raul’s Inang (as his grandma was so fondly endeared) passed on. There were no tears and wailing; just calmness and composure seen among the other members of the family. *** Raul pondered fondly on the memories of Inang. Although the old woman was ready to leave them, her family members certainly, were ill-prepared. Albeit the tough façade that each of them displayed at their Inang’s deathbed, the loss seemed prematurely given. It was all too soon for them. Not all of them were ready to be left behind. Raul’s mother, Elena, bore the encumbrance of three days past, all too well. At her mother’s deathbed, she was as still as a statue. Who knew what went on in her head? Raul observed his mother’s demeanor and thought that something was amiss. Surely, no one could look so torpid and emotionless at a loved one’s deathbed – let alone, one’s mother’s deathbed! “Was there something I did not know?” Raul mused to himself. “How come Mamang took it so lightly? I always thought Inang and Mamang were close” he considered. “No tears in her eyes. Not even a look of hurt or pain. I missed something there, for sure.” *** “You know that I will always follow Inang wherever she goes, Raul” Elena Saev declared To which, Raul replied, “I don’t understand what you mean, Mamang“. “Whatever happens, Raul, I should always be beside Mamang.” Little did Raul know that Elena Saev was braving impending doom on her own. Like her mother who just recently passed on, she was to greet death like an old friend. She was harbouring an illness for months now – like a fugitive on the run. Elena kept this clandestine affair with death from her relatives and her three young children. “They just wouldn’t understand” she reasoned. “I don’t want them to pity me.” The truth was that, Elena was not willing to give up life just yet – not while her kids were still young. She was in doubt: to live or not to live? Was she to be so selfish and leave them all to the mercy of this merciless world? No. She refused. Elena decided to live her remaining days as if no sickness restrained her; and in so doing, she unknowingly strained herself to her limit; thus, hastening the dreaded appointment. *** “Raul, Raul!” an unnerved voice exclaimed. “Wake up! There is something wrong with Mamang.” A sleepy Raul forced his eyelids open and saw his sister Rallana shaking him furiously. “You’ve got to hurry, Raul. There’s something wrong with Mamang!” “What do you mean ‘something wrong’?” Raul asked; his faculties still in confusion. “I’m telling you, something is amiss. I can’t put a finger on it, but there’s something…. Just come. You’ll see what I mean.” *** Elena Saev was declared “deceased” that morning – three days after her mother passed on. Two caskets now deck the Saev house, seemingly adorning the walls in harsh mockery. Raul, Rallana, and Arman, the youngest, stationed themselves beside their mother’s casket. Their faces were a graphic representation of shock and bewilderment. The lookers-on were shaking their heads from side to side in pity – some genuine, some unfounded; for who could have ever expected this strain to materialize in reality… to such young souls, at that. “Elena looked the spitting image of health, just a week ago” thought a neighbor. “What accident had befallen her? I wonder” said another. “Perhaps she was keeping an illness from us!” surmised someone. “Whatever it is, her children will suffer the consequences” Of course, these suppositions were all inexorable, for nobody knew the reason of Elena’s death. Among these intelligent musings, there was no way to validate. The reason for Elena’s death was left at “accidental”. Everyone seemed to be comfortable with that. The three orphaned children bore the incident with solid sturdiness of heart. How will they mourn if they do not know what it is they mourn about. The loss rendered them vulnerable and sore, but to not know why such loss came to be, left them more confused than grief-stricken. *** As the evening deepened, the number of visitors began to decrease. Even so, the Saev family was to expect an all-nighter; that was the custom. In the midst of obligatory wakefulness, then happened a strange occurrence. “Inang….. inang!” a woman’s voice called. It was the voice of a woman distraught. In between utterances, there were undeniable sounds of sobbing and weeping. It was more like, “Inang… iiiinnnnnn-a-a-a-a-annggggg!” (sniff… sniff). Raul’s ears were alerted. “Did you hear that, Lena?” “Yes, I did. Who could that be?” she answered. “It looks like it’s coming from upstairs.” “But nobody’s upstairs.” “I’m going to check it out” Raul bravely declared. To him, there was an element of familiarity to that voice. Still…. His gut is imploring him otherwise. “Iiiiiinnnnnnnaaaaannggg!!! IIINNNNNNNA-A-A-A-A-NNNGGG!!!” The voice grew louder. Everybody undoubtedly heard the wailing. Ay, Apo! Ni Elena!” one visitor cried, gesturing several, rapid signs of the cross. To Raul, this was a bittersweet circumstance. That all-too-familiar voice of his mother was comfort to his hurting heart, but his logical faculties made him realize that this was just a cruel ridicule of nature. “Whoever is doing this, please stop it! This is not funny anymore. Please!” Raul cried in exasperation. The voice only wailed louder. It was unnerving. Some people looked about, searching for the unknown; the hairs on their skins rose. Slam!… slam!. Bugsh! Bugsh! The doors and windows ajar were shut by some wind-like force. The lights flickered and the temperature suddenly dropped to abnormal levels. Everyone in the room gasped and stood frozen in their places. No one dared to move. “INNNNAAAAAAANNNNGGGGG!!!” the voice thundered – this time, filling the room; its resonance deafening those who could hear. There was no doubt that the presence was amongst them. “What do you want, Elena?” yelled one person. No answer. Suddenly, Raul’s aunt, Rizalina Saev, dropped to the floor, twitching and convulsing; her body shaking and trembling wildly. “Innnaaaaaaannnggg!!! Where are you?” the Rizalina shrieked. But it wasn’t her voice. It was the voice of Elena Saev. “Innnnaaaaaaangg… I cannot leave you!” “Hurry, someone put a black cloth over her face!” another aunt cried. “We have to free Elena’s spirit. It’s trapped in this house.” Raul hurried to the search for a black cloth. He knew where to find one. His Inang used to wear black shawls as a staple fashion statement. “Here it is.” Raul said. The Aunt reached for the black cloth and placed it over Rizalina’s writhing face. “Give me the keys to your house, Raul” she ordered. “What for, Auntie?” “We have to free Elena through this body’s navel. Hurry, Raul. We have no time to lose!” Without asking anymore questions, Raul handed the house keys he kept in his pocket. His Aunt lifted the hem of Rizalina’s shirt and pressed the key against the navel. “Go free, Elena. We are letting you go” the Aunt said. Rizalina ceased to thrash about; her breathing became regular. Her deathly paleness became vibrant again. Her eyes, rolled back to their normal position and she stopped screaming. “Raul, Rallena, Arman… say your goodbye’s” the Aunt said. Almost in unison, the three children muttered “Goodbye, Mamang.” A wind-like force whooshed around the throng of people, passing one person to another, searching it seems, for a way out. It found the door; it forced the door open. The people followed the force’s path – astounded, perhaps, by the things unfolding. As the phantom force made its way outdoors, the guard dogs at the house’s entrance jumped up and followed. The canines seem to know, with eerie intelligibility, where this force was heading. They howled and barked as they tracked the apparition. Deeper into town, these dogs ran. Elena, perhaps, has found her way… After the commotion has died down, the Aunt said to the three kids, “I’m glad we have freed Elena”. “Yes, Auntie. We are glad, too” said Rallena. “Aren’t we glad that Mamang’s free, Raul?” Raul was motionless. His eyes were glassy; his pupils dilated. He was looking in the direction where the dogs fled. He murmured, “I wonder if Mamang found Inang before she left.”

***The End***

I love black women because

#Iloveblackwomenbecause They aren’t afraid to keep it 💯 with you, boys see it as nagging, men see it as their woman wanting to see them grow. 7 more words

Beautiful Black Women

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#Iloveblackwomenbecause They aren’t afraid to keep it 💯 with you, boys see it as nagging, men see it as their woman wanting to see them grow. @missgeminii ・・・ For make-up tutorials follow @darkskinwomen.makeup 💋

THE ONE WHO ALWAYS LOVES ME

THE ONE WHO ALWAYS LOVES ME

By Charles Robert Lindholm

Unworthy

of the gift

of forgiveness

am I

But still

the gift

is offered 174 more words

Poetry

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THE ONE WHO ALWAYS LOVES ME

BY THERELUCTANTPOET
THE ONE WHO ALWAYS LOVES ME By Charles Robert Lindholm Unworthy of the gift of forgiveness am I   But still the gift is offered to a fool such as I   My sins they all accuse me right to my face but The One who always loves me offers Amazing Grace   Amazing Grace it covers me like a blanket of snow with mercy and the Greatest Love that I shall ever know   Amazing Grace and Mercy have ended all my fears and The One who always loves me has wiped away my tears   And though I’m so unworthy of forgiveness now I know The One who always loves me will never let me go Copyright © Charles Robert Lindholm – All Rights Reserved    4-14-207  at 2:30 a.m. Inspirational Credit to: The One who always loves me To my Dad, and his singing Amazing Grace down through the years To my Dear Friends who have offered Forgiveness and Love to me   With heartfelt joy and praise to The One who always loves me May everyone find deep and abiding Love and Contentment from The One who always Loves me. Chuck Lindholm – The Reluctant Poet

National Epidemic of Unreported Black & Latina Girls go Missing

This issue is an overwhelming, terrifying issue too few speak of- maybe they aren’t aware .. but they seem to always be on point the second a white girl goes missing, but Black or Hispanic girls don’t even get an amber alert, for the most part. 504 more words

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National Epidemic of Unreported Black & Latina Girls go Missing

This issue is an overwhelming, terrifying issue too few speak of- maybe they aren’t aware .. but they seem to always be on point the second a white girl goes missing, but Black or Hispanic girls don’t even get an amber alert, for the most part. White girls get plastered and analyzed on all the “Leading” (Fake but highly watched) for-profit media like Fox “News”, CNN, MSNBC, and so forth. It’s breaking news; treated like a mass school shooting if a white girls lost. Why; when Black lives, my (Hispanic female) life along with all Latina’s lives for that matter are just as important as any white girls life?! This is sadly another thing we must do- make sure our kids who notice the lack of missing kids never being (in the media) shown unless they are white understand this by no means makes their lives any less important or vital; we are all worth being noticed…but racist America be it the the government or media (gov controlled) don’t appear to agree with me on this fact! I must end here as I’m working against a deadline ATM, but I’ll be reposting the main info and link to read all below. Let’s find new ways to protect and save the girls all these racist and heartless ignore; and let’s remind all how exceptional their lives are as a Black or Hispanic girl. “According to the Black and Missing Foundation, 64,000 black women and girls were missing nationwide in 2014. And it took just one caring black woman to finally ring the alarm. Two months ago, Chanel Dickerson, new commander of the Washington Metropolitan Police Department, launched the Twitter hashtag #MissingDCGirls with photos of the missing youths. Social media responded with outrage that not enough was being done to find the children by law enforcement or media outlets, who often cover stories of missing white children.” “She knew too much about the predators who prey on black children when no one is watching and she made it her mission to protect us as best she could.But she never called our all-white local police department for help. It was the 1980s and maybe she feared that police would look at our mostly black neighborhood and stereotype her as just another irresponsible single black mother. It wouldn’t matter that her kids were just doing what all healthy teenagers do, testing the limits of their freedom, challenging authority.” According to the National Crime Information Center, there were 170,899 missing black children under 18 in the United States in 2016, more than any other category except for the white/Hispanic — a combined number of 264,443. “…group of congresswomen has taken the lead in a national conversation about the crisis of America’s missing black and Hispanic children, demanding that the FBI and Justice Department immediately dedicate funds and commit to policies that will address the problem.” “The caucus is asking: Are these children the victims of sex traffickers, or are there other factors at work? Good questions. The group will host a town hall discussion this month between lawmakers, law enforcement and justice department officials, and child advocate groups. The importance of this conversation cannot be overstated. It is long overdue.” Link to this article in full, here..