05/28/08

From my good friend Tricia LaVoice...

I Wish For You, Empowerment

by: Tricia LaVoice

There, before you, is a pond for swans to float and children to swim. There, before you, is a pond where ice forms for people to glide. The ice is yours to move freely about with your trusting heart, your innocent mind. Yet, you are beautiful and do not see the warning signs. The ice is cracked up ahead. Is it a stranger? A loved one? A neighbor? Without warning, you are plunged by cruelty to the freezing water below. You lose your breath, paralyzed from the frigid temperatures of betrayal and violation while being stripped of your innocence as you sink deeper into the darkness below. Some will remain there being weighted down by blame, shame, and embarrassment. Some will find justice and reach the oxygen above…. This wish is for all, male and female; young and old; black, brown, red and white, who have fallen through the ice from abuse, sexual, verbal and or physical. This wish is for you to empower yourself, to believe the world is good and love is in abundance. This wish is for you to find your voice, scream at the world you are worthy, no one can hurt you. This wish is for you to take back what was yours and never free to be taken. Look to the light above you, kick your legs and swim to the surface. Climb from the fear, you are safe and never alone. Ponds are for swans to float, children to play and people to glide. Let love and courage seal the cracks leaving the ugly below. You are beautiful and I wish you empowerment.

05/25/08

From Tricia LaVoice - this one she wrote is about my dear mom who recently passed away, Gloria Jean Gibbons.

I Wish For You, The Dignity of Jeepers

by: Tricia LaVoice

They call her Jeepers, a name she inherited some sixty years ago.

When I entered her room I was moved by emotion, words could not prepare me for her disturbing condition as she slumped uncomfortablely in her chair. Feeling uncomfortable in my own skin, I spoke quietly to her but her vacant stare offered no response. I traveled far to be in her presence inspired by her story. It had been many years since the thief we call Alzheimer crept into her life robbing her of everything only leaving the physical to endure endless suffering, leaving no hope, no cure, devastating those who loved her so dearly. Here she breathed living in misery, stripped of her dignity yet no one I had met before her was more deserving of self respect or the respect of others. She had witnessed the vicious crimes of her disease in her own mother before her, she was aware that a stranger would enter her mind humiliating her grace before she would vanish altogether into her own silence. She was fully aware of it all yet she asked her family, for the sake of finding a cure, preventing the suffering in others, to tell her story. Footage of her demise has been observed by countless people awakening the need for change and her selflessness, courage to make a difference has done just that, made a difference…….Her caretakers moved her to the bed and she immediately curled to a fetal position as if desperately trying to return to a place of warmth and safety. I moved to the bed with her and curled at her feet and over time a peace, a comfort lying with her over took me. There I read to her, I rubbed her aching body and sung her a lullaby. In those moments I fell in love with this great women honored with the opportunity to show my gratitude. For you, I wish the dignity of Jeepers.

05/21/08

From my good friend Tricia LaVoice...

I Wish For You, Honor

by: Tricia LaVoice

Sitting at the airport, my eye caught notice of three women hurrying from window to window anxiously awaiting the arrival of a flight. Obviously sisters, they giggled and pointed as the welcoming signs they made pressed against the window. Repeatedly, they asked one another, “do you see her, do you see her?” I wondered curiously, was it a fourth sister they awaited, their mother. But it became apparent that one of the woman had more at stake than the other two. She bit her nails, wrapped her arms around her stomach and paced at a feverish rate. Her daughter, maybe returning from college, maybe on the eve of her wedding? One by one, men and women, boy and girls deplaned. The mother’s expression mystified me, tears swelling in her eyes as she cupped her face with her shaking hands but then it became clear. Her daughter appeared. She was beautiful, a child in her late teens, maybe early twenties with long strawberry blonde hair and a face covered in freckles. Her uniform, shades of green and brown, that only worn by the U.S. Military. She dropped her gear as she reached out and buried her face in the chest of her mother. The waiting area burst in applause. The older gentlemen went first, but immediately, one by one, the waiting room stood.“Someone yelled, “it’s okay, soldiers cry too” and her body shook with emotion. A feeling of oneness, of unity, swept through the room as we all paid tribute to the example of courage and sacrifice before us. The depth of this soldier’s, and all those in service, honor I wish for you today.

 

 

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