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A Witch's Path. . .

a path worth taking. . .

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Families

Don’t close the door. . .

The silence is so deafening, the tears don’t want to stop. There is so much left unsaid, so many memories yet to be made. Now, I’m the only one left to share this memory. . .

One sunny, and hot Texas afternoon, I was little more than 6 years old, a beautiful woman knocked on the door. I wobbled over and opened it. A beautiful voice to match, she said something along the lines of “Is Francis home?” I closed the door. She was a stranger after all.

That was the first time I met my tia Glenda. I was the first person in her biological family that she had the pleasure of meeting. Knowing that we never got the chance to share more of our lives together makes my heart ache in a way that I’m not sure I’ve ever felt before.

Today, I would like to ask for prayers for my cousins. May their lives be filled with love and light so that there may be some semblance of filling for the hole that has been ripped into their lives. May they have the strength and courage to get through every wave that is yet to come, because there will be many. Let every holiday, birthday or anniversary to come,  be filled with wonderful memories of the woman who was their world.

I would also like to send a thought into the universe: Love, because it heals all things, forgives all things and creates all things. May love fill the hearts of every soul, even if for a moment. When that wave of love I send knocks on your door like a beautiful angel asking to come in. . . . Don’t close the door. . .

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Dear Family,

This has been a hard year for me. I’ve been through so many emotional changes. I feel like it flew by because I was so busy putting out fires in my head and in my heart. I’ve fallen so many times in my life, I never found it as hard as I did this year to get back up. I’ve made all the wrong choices for all the wrong reasons. There is one thing that has forced me to keep getting up, to keep wiping away my tears and dusting off my ass: Family. My Dad, my sisters, my brothers, my nieces, my nephews, my cousins, mom. You all have kept me going.

This holiday season, as everyone goes out shopping and has all these special requests for specific gifts and such, all I want is for my family to know that I’m sorry for not being around, for not calling, for not reaching out. I just felt like I need to battle this out on my own. I want you all to know that all of you, are my reason for not giving up. Y’all are all I ever wanted all those years I was off drifting alone, doing who knows what with who knows who. Now, I have what I wanted: Family.

Now, I’m finding it hard to be a good daughter, a good sister, a good aunt, a good niece, a good friend even a good witch. I feel like if I get to close I’m, going to burn it all to hell. LOL So, I keep pulling away. I keep “keeping my distance”. So, I’m writing this because I give up, I need your help. I need help being a good everything. If I don’t call, call me. If I don’t text, text me. If You haven’t heard from me, reach out. Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning and your text, phone call or sticker might be the one thing I needed today.

As I write everyone’s Holiday cards, I think carefully about what each one says, reminding all of you how much you mean to me. Please know I’m trying, I’m fighting and I’m keeping on, for all of you, because I know you are rooting for me. . . and I’m not one to “leave the stage in the middle of a song” . . .

Merry Christmas, Merry Yule, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Diwali, Ramadan Mubarak, Happy Kwanzaa, and a Joyous Winter Solstice to everyone the world over.

 

4-4 against our children. . .

As I sit here and listen to the President speak about our fight as Latinos, to keep our families together, all I can think about is my neighbors, my friends and my family who all know, and some are, illegal immigrants trying to make a better life for themselves and their children. I am 4th generation Mexican American. My family is international. I have relatives from El Salvador, Columbia, Guatemala, Mexico, Nicaragua, Brazil; whether they are married in, or adopted in, they are my family!

I think about all the children in my life and what it would be like for them to lose their mom or dad to deportation and tears spring to my eyes because  it devastates me! Now think about the 4 million immigrants who are here to get away from hunger, poverty, violence and their governments. Let’s say that they each have 1 child. . . Now let’s imagine that all 4 million get deported. . . . that means 4 million children. . . 4 MILLION INNOCENT CHILDREN. . . will be put into foster care, or group homes, or with family . . . but none of those people, will ever be mom or dad.

These children will probably have to change schools, they will adjust. They will probably have to make new friends, they will flourish. They will probably be bullied for not having parents, they will overcome. . . . Or they won’t, they may fall through the cracks and become delinquents. They may grow up to be drug addicts or worse. These are our children. These are our INNOCENT children.

Every single one of those children will fall under the responsibility of the United States Government. Can you imagine what anywhere from 2-4 million children entering the system would do to the system? What it would do to our economy?… What it would to to the children?

These are all what if scenarios, right? These are potential outcomes to deporting over 4 million people. Separating 4 million families. Are you one of those families? Do you know one of those families? Don’t take these suppositions lightly. Take voice, Speak up. Don’t let 4-4 against our children be the end of this war. We must carry on and continue fighting.

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