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Monthly Archives: July 2016

Moonlight Exposure 

​For Vaellaz.

We’ve Been Good Friends Over Five Months Ago.

You Took Me To The E.R When People Were Waiting For Me To Die.  You Took Care Of My Animals, Car, Existence.  

There Are Too Many Shades Of Avidity: We Are The Careless, The Same.

Heartless.

You Had To Return To Latin America For Two.Five Months.

You Came Back.

Now, I Come Back, Temporarily.

You Ran To Me With Suffering And Encumbrance.

Your Infuriating Dreams Regarding How People Could Treat Me With So Much Heartache When My Devotion Was As Deep As My Soul, Killed Your Cause.

You Protected Me When Others Were Hurting Me.  Them Causing Me More Pain Then My Heart Attacks.

*You saw me one day in April with black stained tears.

Noone seen me like that before. EVER.

There Is No Love Between us…

Just Infinite respect.

You are: My Best Friend.

Tu eres mi guardián de protección.

‘I remember long ago
When the sun was shining
And all the stars were bright all through the night
In the wake up this madness


There’s too many people
Making too many problems
And there’s not much love to go around.‘ Disturbed Version

Juan Alejandro

*Originally Posted June 2014.
Edited January 2016.

Another trip to the E.R.
Same monotonous question
‘Any chance your Pregnant?’
I want to yell:
You fucking pig, do you know anything about the persistence of loss?
I watched the blood of my life spill onto my Parents bathroom floor when I was 17.
He was Mi Hijo, Juan Alejandro.
I then had a Total Abdominal Hysterectomy when I was 23.
I’m 34 now. Do the Math you fucking drop out.

Every January 29.
It hits me like fire.
But, different now.
Something happened.
What I did to him.
Never consuming more than 500 Calories. His Father beating me.
Keeping you a secret for eight years.
What I did to me.
I didn’t have a Dilation and Curettage (D&C) after I saw you on my parents grout white tile.
*This Procedure could have possibly prevented my Total Abdominal Hysterectomy at the age of 23.
Endometriosis can be caused by Miscarriages.
*I had Stage IV.

Now, I’m empty, which is fine, ok.
I could break a thousand mirrors, and I still don’t want to be a Mother.

I don’t sing your name.
I keep you to myself.
You would have been 17.
I still know.
It was not your time.
But, I do keep the pain near.

I thought about aborting you.
I didn’t want you to be a product of My
Domestic Violence.
*Tu padre me dolía maneras inimaginables.
Tu padre me dijo que, ‘Si usted tiene un aborto, voy a cortarte la garganta.’
But, as history goes, I lost you on my own.

image

That’s you.
Your looks, like your Father.
But, your happiness, mine.
There are days I rehearse.
Copy someone else’s courage.
But, I know.
He doesn’t deserve to fathom my pain.

As Your Lullaby Goes:
“You, you are, oh you are
The little boy made for me in the stars
In the star, that’s why I can’t let you go
The little boy made for me in the stars
That’s why I love you more the further I go.” Nelly Furtado

Irish Eyes Forgive

Original Post Date:
June 6, 2014.

image

It’s been 72 years to the date, that
D-Day happened in our history.

I have told the story of how my
Great-Uncle stormed Omaha Beach on
June 7, 1944 with the 29th Infantry Division.
How he was wounded.
Spent 4 weeks in a French Medical Tent.
Then was killed in combat on 07/13/1944.
Laid to rest in France.
Only Son.
19.
Irish.
Easky, County Sligo, Ireland.

But, this is not the story I’m going to tell.

March 1, 2008.
Haining, Zhejiang Province, China.
Oasis Bar & Grill.

I was accompanying three co-workers of mine, at a local pub rat from Australia.

We arrived to Techno music blaring, people dancing, pool playing, and many drunk foreigners.

My eyes met another foreigner.
I sat across from him as he spoke with a heavy European accent.

We shook hands, opened a bottle of Chinese red wine, and exchanged life stories.

His name, Thoerge Kerntopf.
He went by Thor.
He served in the Bundeswehr.
Deployed to Somalia and Bosnia(where he was wounded. I noticed the ear and face scar, but he provided me with the details of his war paint).
He resided in Indonesia with his wife
(no children).
He was on a business trip.

Some how, after a few bottles of wine, the past began to secrete, pouring in slowly.

I asked him if he was from Berlin.
His accent was noticeable.
He said his family was.
I cringed.
In my head, the numbers began computing.
Years. Plus. Minus.
I didn’t want to know.

I asked about his Family.
He became quiet.
Maybe the wine was killing him.

He then said
“It’s something we don’t bring up. We never talk about it.”

I blurted, “My Great-Uncle was 19.
He lost his Mother when he was 11.
He was my Great-Grandfather’s only son.”

He hesitated.
His eyes lowered with tears.
Secrets.

He said he was sorry for my pain.
He then whispered, “We were supposed to meet. Think about it.”

Then I knew.

He opened his heart.
“My Grandfather was a Nazi.
I don’t talk about it.
It’s a secret within my Family.
This is why I joined the Army.
I wanted to help others.
I did.
I’m sorry.”

It took every molecule of my lineage not to cry.

My first thought?
His grandfather killed my
Great-Uncle.

My face turned a deep shade of red.
I was sweating anger.

Thor sensed my change.
He grabbed my hands.

He again told me this meeting was
Destiny.

He asked me to have a late night dinner with him.

I was floating.
I couldn’t breathe.
I said Yes.

Midnight Noodle shop at 3:00a.m
I ordered.
We took the food to go.

We ended our destiny in his hotel room.
He took his black shirt off.
He laid down.
Closed his eyes.

I opened a Rum Breezer.
I sat on the opposite side of the room.
I couldn’t move.

He said in his German Accent
“Sarah, you healed me.
Please lay next to me.
I just want to lay here and hold your hand.”

And I did.

The next morning it hit me.
I was further away from my own forgiveness as I wept in my dormroom.

I called my Husband.
I told him everything.
He was quiet.
I then confessed,
“I could have killed him.
Revenge for the pain my family has suffered. Revenge for my People.
For my Great-Uncle.”
That broke the shocking silence.

I never saw Thor again.
I left China a month and a half later due to my husband being re-deployed to Iraq.

Sometimes, I don’t know what or how I
feel about March 1, 2008.

But, two people, long ago enemies, held hands with certainty.
Forgiveness is a possibility.

Maybe one day I can.

“Brothers, sisters, where are you now?
As I look for you right through the crowd.
All my life here I’ve spent,
With my faith in God the Church and the Government.
But there’s sadness abound,
Some day soon they’re gonna pull the old town down.

One day we’ll return here.

So come back Billy, won’t you come on home?
Come back Mary, you’ve been away so long.
The streets are empty, and your mother’s gone.
The girls are crying, it’s been oh so long.
And your father’s calling, come on home.
Won’t you come on home, won’t you come on home?

Come back people, you’ve been gone a while,
And the war is raging, through the Emerald Isle.
That’s flesh and blood man, that’s flesh and blood,
All the girls are crying but all’s not lost.

The streets are empty, the streets are cold.
Won’t you come on home, won’t you come on home?

The streets are empty,
Life goes on.

One day we’ll return here,
When the Belfast Child sings again.”
Simple Minds

Dedicated to my late
Great-Uncle Charles ‘Brother’ Moffatt who was killed in action on
July 13, 1944.