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Life is a Recovery Process…


We have all been hurt. We have all had to learn painful lessons. We are all recovering from some mistake, loss, betrayal, abuse, injustice or misfortune. All of life is a process of recovery that never ends. We each must find ways to accept and move through the pain and to pick ourselves back up. For each pang of grief, depression, doubt or despair there is an inverse toward renewal coming to you in time. Each tragedy is an announcement that some good will indeed come in time. Be patient with yourself.” — Bryant McGill

Life is a recovery journey… 

I read this today and immediately felt related to it. 

This week has been really rough. Personally, I have had to face certain demons and recover from hard conversations. After those conversations, I did understand at some level, that the life process is all about recovery, “…a process of recovery that never ends.” Recovery from a misunderstanding, a lost relationship, from grief, from a broken heart… Recovery from an illness or from a treatment… Recovery from bankruptcy, from losing your job, from losing your legal status, from losing the guardianship of children you care for. 

Recovery…you name it! 

This week, I witnessed pain and sorrow in the eyes, heart, and soul of a grieving father and widower. And I’m not sure how soon he’ll recover from that.  

He was telling me he didn’t want to deal with people asking him how he was for evidently he was not okay. He didn’t want to answer questions with white lies stating he’s okay. I told him that in time, he will be able to honestly answer that he is better. As the quote says, he will “find ways to accept and move through the pain”… I told him that his recovery would take time and courage.

It’s taken time and courage for me as well. I know it’s taken time and courage for Pat, her family, for many other people, and of course for my children. 

Life is a recovery journey. Recovery takes time. Time…“that never ends.”


Life is a recovery process…  

As Alicia so eloquently stated, we are all recovering from something…

“…from a misunderstanding, a lost relationship, from grief, from a broken heart…

from an illness or from a treatment…

from bankruptcy, from losing your job, from losing your legal status, from losing the guardianship of children you care for.”

The process of recovery takes time. 

The process of recovery is work. 

It is going into the darkness and staying there until the darkness is no longer comfortable, until there is a need to feel the warmth of the Light on our face, the warmth of the Light in our soul.
Recovery takes courage.
Courage to face our demons, courage to face people and situations, courage to face our pain.
Courage to face the loneliness.

Recovery takes strength. 
Strength to get out of bed to go to work.
Strength to take care of our children when we can barely take care of ourselves.
Strength to pick yourself up.

Strength to keep moving, moving through…

Recovery requires acceptance.
Accepting what is so we can move forward, move through…
Moving through life takes courage and strength, the trick of recovery is loving through the pain.
Loving enough to keep moving forward, to keep moving through, especially when you feel as though you don’t have the strength, or the courage, or the desire, to get out of bed.

Just give it time and be patient and kind with yourself.
Allow yourself to follow that faint glow in the dark. Follow that glow until it leads you to the warmth of the Light, the warmth of Love on your face and in your soul.

In Light and Love,

We Are Not Meant To Stay Wounded

We are not meant to stay wounded. We are supposed to move through our tragedies and challenges and to help each other move through the many painful episodes of our lives. By remaining stuck in the power of our wounds, we block our own transformation. We overlook the greater gifts inherent in our wounds — the strength to overcome them and the lessons that we are meant to receive through them. Wounds are the means through which we enter the hearts of other people. They are meant to teach us to become compassionate and wise.” – Caroline Myss

We are not meant to stay wounded…

We aren’t.

When life hits us with all its might, we feel as if we have no other choice but to be wounded. We become the wound.

When we become the wound we incessantly pick at it. We rip off the scab. We make it bleed. We leave it open, raw, unattended. We don’t allow a scar tissue to form, to seal the wound, to protect it and consequently heal it.

When we act as if we are the wound, we try to wound others. Our pain is so big we want to bring it upon everyone and anyone. We do this mostly and especially with those closest to us.

We want them to feel our pain. We want them to only see our wound. We want them to become a wound as well.

Only when we surrender the pain to a Higher Source we are able to let go of the need to hurt others, to hurt ourselves.

Healing takes time and patience.

At some point during this process we rediscover our own innate healing capacity and we finally allow the wound to heal. We allow a scar to form.

Once this healing occurs we are able to see “the greater gifts inherent in our wounds.” We are able to find “the strength to overcome them and the lessons that we are meant to receive through them.

When we are around those who are hurting we see their wounds as “the means through which we enter their hearts.” We help them move through…

As they heal, we heal. 

We are not meant to stay wounded…

We aren’t. Period.


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Find Something…

You have to find something. Something that anchors you, something that keeps you looking forward. Even on the bad days, the days when you’re tempted to look back.” Unknown

Sometimes things happen and normal days become bad. 
Things that do not make sense at all, no matter how we try to wrap our minds around them. Things that hit us hard, that leave us breathless. Things that come so unexpectedly they test our courage to its core. 

When things like that have happen to me, I have felt at the mercy of destiny. It has seemed to me as if I’m a puppet and my puppeteer is drunk. I have felt lost at sea during a storm. I have needed an anchor. 
When things like that have happened to loved ones, to close friends, to people dear to my heart, I have had the need to find something that anchors me, something that keeps me looking forward. Looking back, remembering, is just too painful. If I look back for too long, I’m not able to BE present. 
We all have something or someone capable of anchoring us. These people, songs, situations or things allow us to remain centered through the strongest storm. They lead us through the darkness back to that place where we can once again find the light. 

When going through rough times, what/who anchors you? What/who keeps you looking forward?

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We Only Remember the Love 

Pat and I write a long post every day. We take turns. We find inspiration in myriad places. We try to share our experiences, open our hearts, and pour down our souls in these daily words we post. 

Today, I have no words. None. No words of wisdom. No enlightening quotes. No uplifting message.
Today, I feel sad. And feeling sad is not only okay, but it is the proper reaction for the news we received before leaving work. 
As dear friends are going through painful and scary times, their pain, being too close to home, doesn’t allow me to share with the world hopeful words. Not this minute. Not today… And that’s okay. 
After going through all the pain I’ve gone through, I’ve learned that I don’t have all the answers all the time. I’ve learned that I know nothing. I’ve learned that sometimes my words are not required. I’ve learned that my presence is far more appreciated and that a heartfelt prayer is all I can actually say, even in the silence. 
Today, I want to be even more aware that life changes in a split second. That no matter how big our plans are, or how busy our life gets, there’s absolutely NOTHING more important than spending time with our loved ones, and making them feel how much we love them, every single chance we get. 

In the end, the love we shared is all we will ever remember. 



Don’t Jump Off Your Train


When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, you don’t throw away the ticket and jump off. You sit still and trust the engineer. ” – Corrie Ten Boom

There have been many instances in my life where I felt deeply enveloped by the challenge I was experiencing. On the train of my life, the tunnel I was crossing seemed too dark for me…

Darkness can have many forms. It is an individual experience. When we are going through a dark moment it’s really hard to see the light anywhere. When we are experiencing darkness we don’t know what to do or who to call. I can tell you that in many cases all that I have wanted to do was jump off the train.

At that point, surrendering was all I had.

Surrender comes on its own when we are ready. True surrender comes from within. Sitting still and trusting the “engineer” (call it God, Spirit, Universe or whatever) requires daily and constant practice.

I admit to you that I’m almost always ready to jump off the train, but when I take a deep breath, sit still and trust The Engineer, I have found that the railroad of my train takes a turn to the most beautiful routes.


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A Spirit of Power and Courage


I have been blessed with a spirit of power and courage!

Do you believe you have a spirit of power and courage?

At times in my life, I did not believe this. I thought I was powerless, I lived in fear of not being good enough. I felt like a nobody, felt unloved and unimportant.

The pain of these beliefs led me to a very dark place, a place where I knew I could not, would not, live for the rest of my life.

Then, my powerful, courageous,
spirit kicked in. Pushing me to make positive changes in my life, allowing me to see my Light, allowing me to remember
I have been blessed with a spirit
of power and courage.

My beloved sisters and brothers, so have you.

In light and love,

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Your Most Effective Ministry


Other people are going to find healing in your wounds. Your greatest life messages and your most effective ministry will come out of your deepest hurts.” Rick Warren

These words are true for me.

I have found healing in the wounds of many others who have had similar losses and/or have gone through similar experiences. Their life stories have inspired me. The way they have gone, or are still going, through their darkest moments has been a light in my own darkness.

I’ve met people that have tried to motivate others towards healing with words that sound wise but that are, in a way, empty. Words that have meant well but carry no healing energy, no power, no inspiration. Why? Simply because these words have come from someone who has not fully gone through a major loss, a tough or painful experience, a dark night of the soul.

Motivating others to SEE and BElieve that their own healing is somehow possible can be easier when you come from wholeheartedness, from your inner courage, from your own experience.

One of my greatest healers and ministers is Pat. The way she carries herself, the way she shows up in the world, the way she lives her truth, the way she has kept on going on has been pivotal in my own way of continuing to go on with my life during/after loss.

The “work” we do together in this “ministry” we call Iluminada is for me, one of my most effective and centering healing opportunities.

As we share our journeys with you, we find healing on the way. Hopefully, our wounds, our deepest hurts, along with our stories of joy and success inspire you as well.


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Breathe… You Are Going to BE Okay.


Breathe. You’re going to be okay. Breathe and remember that you’ve been in this place before. You’ve been this uncomfortable and anxious and scared, and you’ve survived. Breathe and know that you can survive this too. These feelings can’t break you. They’re painful and debilitating, but you can sit with them and eventually, they will pass. Maybe not immediately, but sometime soon, they are going to fade and when they do, you’ll look back at this moment and laugh for having doubted your resilience. I know it feels unbearable right now, but keep breathing, again and again. This will pass. I promise it will pass.” — Daniell Koepke

My body aches. I am in so much pain I feel stiff. I feel short of breath. I move with difficulty and I cannot bend forward. I’m uncomfortable seating down, lying in bed, standing up… walking. There’s no apparent reason for this sudden state of soreness. Yet, I can think of one… grief.

Grief can attack your body without notice. It shows up. It hurts. It demands to be felt.

The third anniversary of my husband’s passing is coming up this week. This anniversary has been THE most painful to date. Pat has a name for this; she calls it “hell week”. A week where we go back to the hell we lived as our loved ones left this plane. I agree with her.

I’ve been there before… I’ve been this uncomfortable and anxious and scared, and I’ve survived.

Can I avoid “hell week”? Perhaps, but there would be no purpose on trying to avoid it. Trying to avoid it would only make it come back stronger next time. It would be like trying to soothe the pain a rotten tooth brings with over-the-counter medicine. These feelings can’t break me…

I do wonder… Am I this sore because I am actually awakening from the slumber my life has been in? Have I really been numb for this long? I guess I have. I guess my body is trying to tell me to take it easy, to go slow, to rest, to feel in order to heal… to not be afraid anymore. I’ve been here before…

This week I’ll do just that, I will take it easy on myself. I will try my best to remember I will indeed be okay. I might forget at times; but, if I do… I will remember to breathe.

If you are experiencing a “hell week”, know you are not alone. Let’s take a breath together, shall we?


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The Moment of Truth… (El Momento de la Verdad)

“There is nothing wrong with anxiety. Although we cannot control God’s time, it is part of the human condition to want to receive the thing we are waiting for as quickly as possible. Or to drive away whatever is causing our fear. . . And since we will never be able to master it, we will have to learn to live with it—just as we have learned to live with storms.” – Paulo Coelho – Manuscript Found in Accra

I received a phone call; a phone call that is making me anxious. I saw the caller ID and candidly answered only to be shocked by who was really on the other line. It was her; my biological mother. I guess my time was due.

She greeted me and then proceeded to talk about the weather. She feels cold in Florida even though we are 80 degrees warm here because she comes from one of THE hottest places in Venezuela. She asked about my kids, mentioned how my daughter (she called her by her name) looks like a woman and how big my son is (she called him “muchachito” – “little boy”). She politely asked how I was but didn’t wait for my answer. The whole conversation lasted about two minutes. Then she said “oh, well, it’s been nice talking to you”.

I had to interrupt her and ask how long she has been in Florida (at my biological sister’s house) and for how long will she be staying. She said she’d been here for a week and planned on staying a whole month. Then she said bye, “I love you” and hanged up.

I was bewildered. Since I was downstairs taking the trash out when the phone rang, I came back to the apartment, washed my hands and sat down. Then I grabbed the phone again and called back. She answered. I said “let me talk to [my sister]”, she asked me “may I ask who is calling?” . . . “It’s me, Alicia”. . . I heard her call my sister’s name out loud and she came to the phone.

My sister is a sweet woman. I could feel how nervous she was to talk to me in her presence. The first time we met she didn’t know who I was. When she found out she felt sad because she always wanted to have a little sister (you can read this story here). I am sure her world was as shaken as mine. It is not something I wished for her.

I asked point blank “can I visit you this date?” I perceived that she was taken aback by my piercing question. She doubted, and started to answer vaguely like trying to find something to do. I chose a time during the week when all the kids will be at school. She doesn’t work so that wouldn’t be a problem. There was, of course, nothing in her calendar. We agreed on the date and time. I hung up and called my mom.

My mom is not really surprised by my news. I told her, “we are going to visit them on this date, plan accordingly”. She immediately agreed.

It will be an interesting visit. Two mothers. Two daughters. Awkward situation. But I needed to take the bull by the horns and meet up with my destiny.

All of you know I’ve been practicing “Ho’oponopono” towards her. It is so easy to do that when there’s so much water and land separating you from what (should I say whom?) you consider the source of your abandonment issues. Let me take this moment of truth and see if by being face to face with her I can actually practice what I have been writing about. This is MY moment of truth. The moment I was not waiting for but knew would come no matter what.

I will go see her for many reasons. I need to forgive in her presence. I need to take a chance on seeing her alive because we all know swiftly “deathbestows its grace upon anyone. I want to remember her (I have a vague memory of her face).

My anxiety comes when my thoughts take me to negative and scary places. Places that are described by my ego with sentences that begin with “what if’. What if she rejects me again? What if she doesn’t hug me? What if she changes her mind at the very last minute? What if, what if, what if…

My inner little girl is having a tantrum. She’s feeling hurt again. She’s feeling scared. She wants to know why in the world would I put her in this position for the third time?! I try to calm her down by reminding her of all the love that surrounds her. She doesn’t want to hear it. She wants no part in it. All she wanted was the love of her ‘mommy’ and that NEVER happened. It will take time for me to calm her down, but I know I will.

My inner little girl and I are not living in the present moment while we go through this. We are grieving the past and worrying about the future. That’s OK. We need to feel this to be able to deal with this situation once and for all. This is our chance to heal for real. And I am taking it!

God’s time is perfect. This is happening right now, days before my 44th birthday and exactly ten years after I saw her for the first time ever, for a reason. To me, in a very personal way, ten (when considering the numerology of tarot cards) brings hope for it represents an ending, but also the hopes for a new creation. The number 10 is reduced to 1 (1+0), and one is a new beginning. Or Begin Anew like one of my tattoos. (Anew: one more, an added, a different, a further, an extra).

I will not “drive away what’s causing me fear”… I will drive right into it and begin anew with my relationship with her, in whatever way that means, and whether she “accepts” me or not. This visit will close for me that old cycle of unworthiness.

I’ll keep you posted…


* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

“No hay nada malo con la ansiedad. Aunque no podemos controlar el tiempo de Dios, es parte de la condición humana querer recibir lo que estamos esperando lo antes posible. O para alejar todo lo que está causando el miedo. . . Y puesto que nunca seremos capaces de dominarla, tendremos que aprender a vivir con ella – así como hemos aprendido a vivir con las tormentas.” – Paulo Coelho – Manuscrito Encontrado en Accra

Recibí una llamada telefónica; una llamada que me llenó de ansiedad. Vi el nombre en el identificador de llamadas y cándidamente atendí solo para llevarme la sorpresa de quien estaba realmente al otro lado de la línea. Era ella; mi madre biológica. Creo que me llegó la hora.

Me saludó y empezó a hablar del clima. Siente frio en la Florida a pesar de que estamos a 80 grados Fahrenheit debido a que ella vive en uno de los lugares más calurosos de Venezuela. Me preguntó por mis hijos, mencionó que mi hija (la llamó por su nombre) parecía una mujer y comentó cuán grande esta mi hijo (lo llamó muchachito). Con mucha educación me preguntó cómo estaba pero sin esperar mi respuesta. La conversación duró unos dos minutos. Entonces me dijo, “bueno, ha sido un placer hablar contigo”.

Tuve que interrumpirla para preguntarle cuando había llegado a la casa de mi hermana biológica y cuando se iría. Me dijo que tenía una semana aquí y que planeaba quedarse por un mes. Entonces me dijo adiós, “te quiero”, y colgó el auricular.

Me quedé perpleja. Como estaba abajo botando la basura cuando el teléfono sonó, regresé al apartamento, me lavé las manos y me senté. Agarré el teléfono y llamé de vuelta. Ella atendió. Dije “quiero hablar con [mi hermana]”, ella preguntó “¿de parte de quién?” . . . “Soy yo, Alicia”. . . la escuché llamar a mi hermana al teléfono y ella atendió.

Mi hermana es una mujer extremadamente dulce. Pude sentir su nerviosismo al tener que hablarme en su presencia. La primera vez que nos vimos ella no tenía ni idea de quién era yo. Cuando lo supo se sintió triste pues siempre quiso tener una hermanita (pueden leer esta historia aquí). Estoy segura de que su mundo fue tan conmocionado como el mío. No era algo que deseaba para ella.

Pregunté sin problema “¿puedo visitarlas en este día?” Percibí que ella se sorprendió con la pregunta tan directa. Dudó, y empezó a responder vagamente como tratando de encontrar algo que hacer. Escogí un horario en que los niños están en la escuela. Ella no trabaja por consiguiente eso no representa un problema. Por supuesto, no había nada en su agenda. Acordamos la fecha y la hora. Colgué el teléfono y llamé a mi mamá.

Mi mamá no estaba realmente sorprendida con mi noticia. Le dije, “las visitaremos en esta fecha, planea lo que necesites”. Ella estuvo de acuerdo de inmediato.

Va a ser una visita interesante. Dos madres. Dos hijas. Situación incómoda. Pero yo necesitaba tomar al toro por los cuernos y reencontrarme con mi destino.

Todos ustedes saben que he estado practicando el arte de “Ho’oponopono” hacia ella. Es tan fácil hacer esto cuando hay tierra y mar de por medio entre tú y lo que consideras la fuente de tu sentimientos de abandono. Debo tomar este momento de la verdad y ver si al tenerla cara a cara puedo de hecho practicar lo que he venido escribiendo. Este es MI momento de la verdad. Un momento que no esperaba pero que sabía que vendría sin importar nada.

Iré a verla por muchas razones. Necesito perdonar en su presencia. Necesito tomar el chance de verla viva una vez más pues todos sabemos cuán rápidamente la “muertederrama su gracia sobre cualquiera. Quiero recordarla (tengo una vaga memoria de si cara).

Mi ansiedad viene cuando mis pensamientos me llevan a lugares negativos y miedosos. Lugares que son descritos por mi ego con oraciones que empiezan con “que tal”. Que tal que me rechace de nuevo. Que tal que no me abrace. Que tal que cambie de opinion a última hora. Que tal, que tal, que tal…

Mi niña interna está armando una pataleta. Se siente herida de nuevo. Siente miedo. Quiere saber por qué la estoy hacienda pasar por esto una tercera vez. Trato de calmarla al recordarle cuanto amor la rodea. Ella no quiere saber nada de nada. Todo lo que ella quiso fue que su ‘mami’ la quisiera y eso NUNCA pasó. Me va a tomar tiempo calmarla, pero se que lo haré.

Mi niña interna y yo no estamos viviendo en el momento presente mientras pasamos por esto. Estamos dolidas por el pasado y preocupadas por el futuro. No importa. Necesitamos sentir esto para poder lidiar de una vez y por todas con esta situación. Este es nuestro chance de sanar y, ¡lo voy a tomar!

El tiempo de Dios es perfecto. Esto está pasando ahora, a solo días de mi 44avo cumpleaños y exactamente diez años despues que la vi por primera vez, por una razón importante. Para mí, a nivel personal, el número diez (considerándolo en la numerología del tarot) me da esperanzas pues representa un fin, pero también la esperanza de una nueva creación. El número 10 se reduce a 1 (1+0), y uno es un Nuevo comienzo. O Comenzar de Nuevo como lo que representa uno de mis tatuajes, (una vez más, una añadidura, una diferente, una más allá, una extra).

No voy a “alejar todo lo que está causando el miedo”… Me dirigiré directamnete hacia esto y empezaré de nuevo una relación con ella, de cualquier forma que se presente y en cualquier manera que ella la (me) “acepte”. Esta visita cerrará para mí un viejo ciclo de no merecimiento.

Les mantendré informados…



‘Twas the Season… (Era la Temporada)


We are told holidays are the season of comfort and joy.  For those of us who have experienced loss… loss of a loved one, loss due to divorce, loss of a job, loss of freedom, any and every type of loss there is to experience… this past holiday season was not necessarily a season of comfort and joy.  It was, perhaps, a season of pain and of sorrow.

This past season of “joy” was more difficult to navigate through than I ever expected.  The intense pain and longing to hold my child hit me like tidal waves that keep coming, not giving me time to recover before the next wave hits.  The pain does not ebb and flow like it normally does, it is one wave of pain, one after another that keeps slamming against that black hole in my chest that used to be my heart.  I cry again, from the depths of my being.  I again, am empty.  As painful as this place is, this is where I am.  I must live in this place, again…and probably many more “agains“.  Someone told me that we grieve at the depth in which we love. I, apparently will be grieving my son until we are together again and I can hold him in my arms once more.  Some days the pain, the sorrow, is all-consuming, I don’t know if I can swim out of the wave of sorrow and pain.  But I must, my children need me to be their mother and their grandmother, not a shell of the woman I used to be.

I found no comfort, no joy, in listening to Christmas carols this last year.  They made me cry…tears of sorrow.  When I heard the words, “sleep in heavenly peace“, my heart broke; those words took me to a place of anger.  I am angry because my child should NOT be sleeping in heavenly peace.  He should have been here, celebrating the holidays, celebrating each day, with his daughter, with me, with his sister, brother-in-law, niece and nephew, his family…not sleeping in heavenly peace.

Shopping brought little joy. In the past, one of my greatest joys of the holiday season was to find the right and perfect gift for everyone on my shopping list. This time, shopping was an annoyance, one more burden. I did the best I could in finding the perfect gifts for those that I love, I hope I was successful. Hopefully, I will do better next year. My wish to everyone on my list is that they know how much I love and cherish them, not just at this time, but always.

I was able to experience a shimmer of joy.  I was briefly able to feel the joy that was rippling off my grandchildren as they opened their gifts.  Their excitement, their squeals of joy, their giggles, and their smiles were contagious and a welcome change to a heart that has been dark, filled with pain and sorrow.

This was not the happiest holiday season that I, my family, and some of you, have lived through. Those that love us, here and with our Creator, have loved us right where we are, filling some of the darkness of our hearts with a shimmer of the joy that we are longing to live again.  THAT LOVE is the right and perfect gift.

Thank you, to everyone who has loved us, given us the right and perfect gift and continue to gift us with your love.

Love is the perfect gift, for those of us living in pain, working to live in joy.

Love matters.


* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Se nos ha dicho que la temporada navideña es confortable y llena de dicha. Para aquellos que hemos sufrido una pérdida… pérdida de un ser querida, pérdidas por un divorcio, pérdida del empleo, pérdida de la libertad, todas y cualquier tipo de pérdida que se pueda experimentar. Esta fue, quizá, una temporada de dolor y tristeza.

Esta pasada temporada de “dicha” fue para mí, mucho más difícil de navegar de lo que me esperaba. El intenso dolor y la necesidad de abrazar a mi hijo me golpeo como las duras olas de una marejada que no paraban de venir a mí sin darme la oportunidad de reponerme entre una y otra. Este dolor no va y viene como normalmente lo hacía, es sencillamente una sola marejada de dolor, ola tras ola que golpean el hoyo negro detrás donde solía estar mi corazón. Lloro de nuevo desde lo más profundo de mí ser. De nuevo me siento vacía. Este lugar donde estoy es doloroso pero es donde debo estar. Debo vivir aquí, de nuevo… y probablemente muchos más “de nuevos”. Alguien me dijo que sufrimos en la misma capacidad en que amamos. Yo, aparentemente sufriré la pérdida de mi hijo hasta que nos reencontremos de nuevo, y de nuevo pueda abrazarle. Algunos días el dolor, la pena, me consumen totalmente. No sé si puedo nadar fuera de esta ola de dolor y tristeza. Pero debo hacerlo, mis niños necesitan a su madre y a su abuela, no a la cáscara de la mujer que solía ser.

No me confortaron las canciones navideñas. Me hicieron llorar… lágrimas de tristeza. Cuando escuché las palabras “duerme en paz celestial” mi corazón se desmoronó; esas palabras me llevaron a sentir ira. Me siento rabiosa porque mi hijo NO debería estar durmiendo en paz celestial. El debería haber estado aquí, celebrando las fiestas, celebrando cada día con su hija, conmigo, con su hermana, su cuñado, sus sobrinos, su familia… no durmiendo en paz celestial.

Salir de compras me trajo un poquito de felicidad. En el pasado, uno de mis mayores disfrutes era encontrar el regalo perfecto para aquellos en mi lista de compras. Esta vez, comprar fue un martirio, una carga más. Hice lo mejor que pude en encontrar los regalos perfectos para aquellos a quienes amo, espero haber tenido éxito. El año entrante será mejor. Es mi deseo que todas las personas en mi lista sepan cuanto los quiero y cuanto los valoro, no solo durante las fiestas, pero siempre.

Tuve la oportunidad de experimentar algo de dicha. Pude sentirlo gracias a las ondas de felicidad que mis nietos enviaban al abrir sus regalos. Su excitación, sus griticos, sus risitas y sus sonrisas fueron contagiosas y un cambio muy bien recibido por un corazón oscuro lleno de pena y dolor.

Esta no fue la más feliz temporada que yo, mi familia y algunos de ustedes han vivido. Aquellos que nos quieren, aquí y con nuestro Creador, lo han hecho exactamente donde estamos, iluminando un poco de nuestra oscuridad con el brillo de la dicha que añoramos sentir de nuevo. ESE AMOR es el más perfecto regalo.

Gracias, a todos los que nos han querido, dándonos el mejor regalo de amor que continua ayudándonos.

El amor es el regalo perfecto para aquellos de nosotros que viviendo en el dolor estamos trabajando para volver a la dicha.

El amor cuenta.



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