This Book is Dedicated to My Daughter....

Title: The Battle to Save My Daughters SOUL

This book is dedicated to my beautiful daughter Andreayna Marte & To all the young womyn in the Fuerza/Power program who taught me how not to loose hope and reflected back to me an inner strength and power that you can not learn or read about anywhere!

Dear Eayna,

You are 14 yrs old now and no matter how much I prepared myself, no matter how ready I thought I was, there was never a chance on this earth that I would have been prepared for this year or the years that lay ahead for me and you.

I have dedicated my life’s work to creating a space for young womyn to create possibilities for them selves, to heal, to empower and transform the way they think, the critically think about the information they learn and create choices and alternatives to the world they live in.

Its been seven years since I made that agreement with myself and no body more than you and your brother have felt the affects of my lifes work. For the past seven years, I have broken down, broken through, broken down, broken through again and again and again…I have been the best mom and the worst mom, I have been here and there and no where, I have been happy and depressed, angry and in rage. I have broken promises and or never made any because I couldn’t keep them. I have taken days off to see your Christmas shows and take care of you after school and then
there where times you didn’t see me at all. (written 4 years ago)


Now you are 17, and I thought the worst was behind us but at 14 it had just begun. Espe told me one day by the river that this journey of motherhood with you was not about you at all, but about me. As I cried with her on Riverside for the millionth time about wanting to protect you from the world, she told me I had just started a long battle to save your soul. Hence, the name of the book.

Well she was right, for the past 4 years I have battled you, the world & the contradictions I live of having you at such a young age of 15 and raising myself and you, two young women in such a violent world . However, at the end of the journey it was not you that was saved it was me!

That battle I was waging was not about you at all, as i fought with you I fought myself , it was like looking in the mirror at myself, my mistakes, my pain, my regrets, my past. In raising you I got the opporuntity to raise myself again.

Thankyou for this opporunity to be your mom, for trusting me as your mother, for your unconditional love, for not judging me and for standing with me through this journey of self love. We both have transformed into beautiful women!

In bold Rebirth

Your Mom, DEE


HAPPY SPRING!

Me and My Daughter

Me and My Daughter

A Battle to Save My Daughter Soul...& Find My Spirit in the Process!

Its a story about me, motherhood, the women in my life, child sexual abuse, adoption, bieng a lesbian, domestic violence and prostitution. Its about how I learned to be mother, how our moms choices shape who we are as lovers, in relationships and as parents. Its a Latinas story of two cultures as she raises her daughter and finds herself. Its a story of healing, freedom , self love and sisterhood.

Friday, December 11, 2009

Thanksgiving, Thankskilling......

Thanks Giving Thanks Killing Thanks for killing me softly Thanks for killing them softly So soft that no one heard the cries My cries when “he” passed away When I learned about how “they” passed away Taken away so suddenly that is how it happened I remember it like it was yesterday… I woke up to prepare a thanksgiving feast for my family I couldn’t start though, my spirit needed something from me It told me I couldn’t do anything until my home was dressed in white and so in search I went Down broadway to buy white kitchen curtains, bathroom curtains, white table cloths and fabric for the white altar I was going to put up with the abundance of white flowers I had just bought In one hand I had the flowers and the other the aqua Florida What I didn’t know was that I had not walked through Broadway alone, he, they, had walked with me Guided me all the way, they, he, had chosen the flowers and the fabric They, had set the stage and through me he, had prepared his own altar in my house He knew that on this day he would die, they knew that on this day we had to acknowledge their death And so I did it—I built the altar, prepared my home without knowing that I was saying goodbye to my dad That even through his death he was taking care of me and so I cooked and cleaned and cooked and cleaned until I got the phone call He waited , he waited till I had finished , he set up our home to ground me for the news I was about to hear Nov 24th, 2006 my dad passed away On thanksgiving day many years ago someone declared this day a holiday in celebration of a massacre, a genocide of a people Thanks giving Thanks killing, thanks for killing Thanks for killing a human race Breaking the bond of a father and motherless daughter Thanksgiving redefined So for the past 3 years I sit here as if it happening all over again, the call, the news, I prepare to relive it as if it happened today And I wonder on this day of giving thanks will there ever be a time Where the hurt of the people we have lost, whether we knew them or not Doesn’t hurt as bad I wonder on this thanks giving day will there ever be time When I can look up to the sky and give thanks for the death of my dad

2 comments:

  1. Nice blog. Enjoyed it very much. The header image of the blog is awesome. Iflorist.co.uk

    ReplyDelete
  2. thankyou so much. continue to follow me and share with me your own story if you like.

    ReplyDelete