Definitely a tear jerker for me.
The Help...helped
I know, I know! Two posts in one night! How utterly rude and greedy of me! Well, excuuuuuuse me but I must shed these burdensome thoughts crowding in my mind. If not, I'll be up all night, walking aimlessly from room to room, and that might creep out some people who, unlike me, are sleeping. Who am I kidding...my four or five loyal readers wouldn't give two farts if I posted one or two or three million entries tonight. So on with the blogging. Let me just start by stating that this past weekend I finally went to see The Help with a friend on Saturday. Side note: I went to see it at the Quarry and found myself sniffling a little at the sight of Borders being utterly, devastatingly empty. Okay, back to the topic at hand. The Help; it was a great movie. Beautiful story, engaging plot, and a movie with a moral is always an excellent movie. But I'm not here to be a movie critic. HA! Especially not me, I the NON movie buff!!! But before I delve into what I really want to discuss let me just say when it comes sappy movie scenes....I am a big, bawling CRYBABY! Ask my family. Ask my closest friends. Ask my creator. That is just what I do. I spend 99.9% of my life giggling, laughing boisterously, and acting like a total goofball. But get me in front of a touching, moving, emotional scene and the tears pour down like Niagara Falls.
Having said that, The Help had a couple scenes where I could have bawled like the true crybaby I tend to be. Although lately, crying has been scarce for me. But one scene in the movie choked me up until I thought I would have to seriously remove myself from the theater before I had the most traumatic breakdown. The kind of break down that would make people squirm uncomfortably away from me and give me weird looks (<---the kind of looks I'm sure Rudolph got from Olive the other reindeer). And if you haven't seen this movie and don't want any giveaways, S-T-O-P reading now. Not that it's a big deal but just in case. So one of the girls in the movie is pregnant and she's happy, excited, and elated. Everything seems to be going smoothly for her until the damning scene comes. You hear the ominous, loud thump from the bathroom. The maid (or "help") knocks on the door, and the quiet, muffled voice crying out essentially saying GO AWAY, LEAVE ME ALONE. And I'm sitting there in the audience in that darkened room, feeling my gut knot up and I literally lurch forward in my seat as if I can feel that knife slashing across my heart again. And then the bathroom door is kicked in (that Minnie was a strong black woman; she kicked that door down by herself!!) and you see the blood all over. So much blood. And the tears immediately break loose. I do not even have the time to prepare myself, to tell myself to calm the freak down. IT'S NOT YOU!! Oh but it is me. That despair in her eyes...so real to me.
And then the scene right after that broke me even more. With the bodies in little keepsake boxes, wrapped in ribbon and lace. The shallow grave in the yard and the little trees planted over those graves. It shook me in such a personal way. I have five little sonogram pictures named and saved away in my own little keepsake box, each with a little note from me. Maybe it's creepy to you...might be creepy to the whole world. But to me, these little ones were real people. Each one was a part of me. An extension of me all dwindled away and destroyed by me. Each one only in the first trimester - eight weeks at the minimum; the longest at 11 weeks. Enough time to have thought of a lifetime for them. Enough time to have dreams of them becoming great. Enough time to go from being completely elated to mourning their loss no matter how long or short their gestation. To see their heartbeats at one moment, and then absolutely nothing the next. Enough time to fight for their lives, only to lose. And you feel you lose a part of yourself as well. I don't know how to explain the devastation of a miscarriage. And all you rude people who want to diminish my tragedy by saying oh at least it was ONLY at 8 weeks and not when they were full grown. The thing is...to me they were already full grown. In my mind, they were here, right now with me. Their life spanning out before me; their future already set. My LOVE already engraved, cemented for them. Life becomes more precious when you are shown how extremely delicate it truly is.
This is why, while abortion works for the rest of you, while you can easily put away a life from you and destroy it when you have the power to create and nurture it, it will never sit right with me. That is my personal opinion. There are other options. And one day I hope that I will be an option for those faced with the predicament of choosing life or condemning death. I still want to sponsor or operate an orphanage. And someday I want to be able to say to you, bring your angels to me, let me nurture them and love them like the miracles they are.
Ham Sah
"I am Divine."
Ham- I, Sabrina Yakana, also known as Riley in my most creative state of mind.
Sah- Soft spoken with a fiery heart, resilient and firm
Ham- I, Sabrina Yakana, born of goodly parents (knowing grin)
Sah- Exist here to grow, to progress, to elevate my being to something more
Ham- I, Sabrina Yakana, created from earth and Spirit
Sah- Compassionate, endearing, intense, always full of emotion
Ham- I, Sabrina Yakana, the daughter, sister, mother, friend
Sah- With the power to create, destroy, and restore
Ham- I, Sabrina Yakana, the lost, the found, the in between
Sah- Always yearning, searching, exploring
Ham- I, Sabrina Yakana, a daughter of great inheritance
Sah- Full of movement, purpose, and direction
Ham- I, Sabrina Yakana, the woman
Sah- Nurturing, liberating, and changing the world one human at a time
Ham Sah- I, Sabrina Yakana, am Divine.
Rain, rain go away...Wait no! Stay!
It's incredible the power of weather and it's effects on your moods. Tonight we had a nice downpour. Moisture I'm sure all of San Antonio and surrounding areas have been praying for. It reminded me of a time in my life where fear ruled and I couldn't stand the lock down it had on my life anymore. A little less than a year ago, I purposely stood in a similar downpour of rain with the lightning flashing across the sky, and the thunder rolling ferociously across the horizon. I let myself get soaked as I stood in the middle of that storm, facing a fear I've had since I was a child. I embraced this kind of storm, needing to face it head on. I spread my arms and opened myself up and stood as my heart raced and I could feel the panic in the form of bile build up at the back of my throat. But the longer I stood, the stronger my will. It took me most of that night to finally get my heart and my thoughts to calm; but I did it.
Tonight, while the lightning still strikes a small chord of fear in me, I was able to drive through the rain without feeling that sudden urge to pull over and let the panic take over. In fact, with lil man squealing in the back seat, I actually had a little bit of fun and I was smiling! throughout the whole drive. And singing! That is such an achievement! Hahahaha...in yo face! Now...can I overcome my fear of elevators and traveling via airplane? We shall see... hmmmm.
And now...rainy weather music...curling up in bed with a good book, and hopefully, sleep will snatch me up in her clutches and send me off to dreamland where sweet dreams await.
Tonight, while the lightning still strikes a small chord of fear in me, I was able to drive through the rain without feeling that sudden urge to pull over and let the panic take over. In fact, with lil man squealing in the back seat, I actually had a little bit of fun and I was smiling! throughout the whole drive. And singing! That is such an achievement! Hahahaha...in yo face! Now...can I overcome my fear of elevators and traveling via airplane? We shall see... hmmmm.
And now...rainy weather music...curling up in bed with a good book, and hopefully, sleep will snatch me up in her clutches and send me off to dreamland where sweet dreams await.
And now I am a poet...bahahaha
Errands, errands all the day long
But in my heart and in my soul
resides a happy, joyful song
Life is messy but life is full,
Always busy, always bustling
But keeping calm, happy, and cool
At times we cry, at times it rains,
But I'll take the clouds and gray,
because I learn from growing pains.
I love my life and I love me
I love my son, my family and friends,
and will enjoy this day with GLEE!!!
But in my heart and in my soul
resides a happy, joyful song
Life is messy but life is full,
Always busy, always bustling
But keeping calm, happy, and cool
At times we cry, at times it rains,
But I'll take the clouds and gray,
because I learn from growing pains.
I love my life and I love me
I love my son, my family and friends,
and will enjoy this day with GLEE!!!
San Jose Cemetery
She chose her steps carefully until she came upon what she was looking for. The early morning sun was already blazing, glaring down with its warm rays. Tears pooled in her eyes as she placed some flowers into a built in vase in that ritualistic way she had of doing things; fingers poised, ginger and rotating each flower until a beautiful, balanced pretty look was achieved. Her fingers flew to her lips as she tried to hold in the small cry that was about to escape. She stepped back and plopped down in the dry, yellowing, crisp grass and let the tears flow and cascade onto the simple headstone. Her emotions came in a rush just as a heavy, damp, hot wind swept across the cemetery. And she wept heavily. Her sobs came in uneven, heaving bursts and her shoulders sagged as her words released her worries, her stress, her sorrows.
"I wish you were here. I wish you could be here to see my son. He's brilliant like you. Bright. Stubborn. Loves playing rough, running, jumping around, never a still moment unless there is something he likes on TV. And he's at the age where he talks about poop, pee and all the gross things little boys go around piping about and never grow out of. He is so smart, Dallace, " and as his name escaped her lips, her shoulders shuddered with a gambit of emotion. "You would love him..."
Her tears increased and she began to hiccup with every other word as ants crawled over her toes and fingers. The sun moved higher in the sky and she heard a boisterous football game somewhere in the distance.
"My life...ah, my life," she chuckled softly amidst her crying. She touched his engraved picture, and bowed her head, rocking back and forth.
"My life is as unpredictable as the chance of rain in Texas. It's such a roller coaster with never-ending ups and downs; it's slightly sickening how much it teeters and totters. Jimmy left me, and in a way, I'm glad you weren't around for that because YOU, Dallace, would have found a way to karate chop all his limbs off...ALL his limbs or poison his beer and piss in it for added spite," she smiled, picturing him wiggle his eyebrows with that mischievous grin and the famous monkey face. A small, one passenger airplane raced down the airport runway that was across the cemetery, and she turned her head to the right to watch it take off. Her tears stopped for a moment as she felt a gratitude wash over her for such an appropriate resting place for Dallace, who loved jets, airplanes, and anything that could race above and beyond the limits of the sky. A small breathe of wind lifted her bangs out of her face and eyes and she gave a long, slow sigh. She turned back to the headstone and tears flowed again though not as abundant.
"I've had a difficult time loving myself....or rather, being proud of myself. I think you'd understand this and I wonder sometimes what advice you would give me, wise, younger brother. You always had a way of putting things in perspective. Well, all of you Yakana boys...you all are wise beyond your years. But remember those nights staying up, talking about philosophy, feelings, religion, race, humans, parallel universes....ah, Dallace, if I could hear your voice and words again..." her voice trailed off as she silently choked on the lump in her throat. Her head dropped on the headstone as a long, mournful wail burst out of her mouth. Salty tears streamed down her face, swirling with the dirt in the crevices of the gray granite headstone. The walls and barriers she'd built around her emotions came tumbling and she poured out every emotion, her body rocking with anguish, anger, sadness, hurt, a broken heart, anxiety, and yearning. And with every new wave of emotion, she let a cry escape her throat and her throat became dry as each wail became louder, each sob growing in pitch. Her mind flashed back and forth between past and present. The images she could not get rid of, stamped in her head of that night she lost him. The sounds, the voices, the events. Rewind. Play. Rewind more. Play again. Rewind. Pause. Play again. And slowly she came back to the present, as her tears soaked the right side of the headstone, washing over his picture. The sun was high in the sky, baking the back of her neck. She flinched as she realized the ants were now biting her. And she felt someone else's presence.
She was not alone and her head snapped up out of her commiserating. An older woman stood in the row in front of her, two headstones to the right. She was facing a polished, glossy, black headstone, her left hand resting on top of the headstone, her right hand gripping a tissue. The old woman knelt down and kissed the picture on the headstone. And then the woman wept. And Sabrina heard her own anguish echoed in this woman's soft sobs. She shed tears with the woman and contemplated her pain as a mother loosing her son.
I know such pain. I hear your grief. And though mine are for a brother, I know. I know the anguish that tortures you. I know the crazy questions...especially the what if's. I know the heartache. I can feel how it haunts you and never goes away. I know you know that time does not really make it better...you just learn to cope better. Nothing makes something like this better. We just know and understand it's part of life, though we may not particularly like that it had to be us. Life is painful. We know this....and I know now, we are never alone. There is someone that understands us. There is always someone who shares our pains, our sorrows, and our disappointments. I know this part of you, even though I've never met you....
Sabrina stood slowly, hesitant but filled with compassion. And compassion moved her. She walked silently over the the older woman with a flower in her hand. She placed the flower on the headstone, turned to the woman, and embraced her. Embraced her with all the understanding she had for this stranger. The woman clung to her and they wept together quietly. Mourn with those who mourn. Comfort those in need of comfort. Serve your fellow beings. The women stood in each other's embrace for a few seconds and then let go of each other. The younger nodded at the older, and the older smiled her appreciation and they parted. Life, while it can be ugly, is always beautiful when you can share and exchange compassion. She walked to her truck and glanced back at the woman as a jet took off over their heads.
God bless us all....
"I wish you were here. I wish you could be here to see my son. He's brilliant like you. Bright. Stubborn. Loves playing rough, running, jumping around, never a still moment unless there is something he likes on TV. And he's at the age where he talks about poop, pee and all the gross things little boys go around piping about and never grow out of. He is so smart, Dallace, " and as his name escaped her lips, her shoulders shuddered with a gambit of emotion. "You would love him..."
Her tears increased and she began to hiccup with every other word as ants crawled over her toes and fingers. The sun moved higher in the sky and she heard a boisterous football game somewhere in the distance.
"My life...ah, my life," she chuckled softly amidst her crying. She touched his engraved picture, and bowed her head, rocking back and forth.
"My life is as unpredictable as the chance of rain in Texas. It's such a roller coaster with never-ending ups and downs; it's slightly sickening how much it teeters and totters. Jimmy left me, and in a way, I'm glad you weren't around for that because YOU, Dallace, would have found a way to karate chop all his limbs off...ALL his limbs or poison his beer and piss in it for added spite," she smiled, picturing him wiggle his eyebrows with that mischievous grin and the famous monkey face. A small, one passenger airplane raced down the airport runway that was across the cemetery, and she turned her head to the right to watch it take off. Her tears stopped for a moment as she felt a gratitude wash over her for such an appropriate resting place for Dallace, who loved jets, airplanes, and anything that could race above and beyond the limits of the sky. A small breathe of wind lifted her bangs out of her face and eyes and she gave a long, slow sigh. She turned back to the headstone and tears flowed again though not as abundant.
"I've had a difficult time loving myself....or rather, being proud of myself. I think you'd understand this and I wonder sometimes what advice you would give me, wise, younger brother. You always had a way of putting things in perspective. Well, all of you Yakana boys...you all are wise beyond your years. But remember those nights staying up, talking about philosophy, feelings, religion, race, humans, parallel universes....ah, Dallace, if I could hear your voice and words again..." her voice trailed off as she silently choked on the lump in her throat. Her head dropped on the headstone as a long, mournful wail burst out of her mouth. Salty tears streamed down her face, swirling with the dirt in the crevices of the gray granite headstone. The walls and barriers she'd built around her emotions came tumbling and she poured out every emotion, her body rocking with anguish, anger, sadness, hurt, a broken heart, anxiety, and yearning. And with every new wave of emotion, she let a cry escape her throat and her throat became dry as each wail became louder, each sob growing in pitch. Her mind flashed back and forth between past and present. The images she could not get rid of, stamped in her head of that night she lost him. The sounds, the voices, the events. Rewind. Play. Rewind more. Play again. Rewind. Pause. Play again. And slowly she came back to the present, as her tears soaked the right side of the headstone, washing over his picture. The sun was high in the sky, baking the back of her neck. She flinched as she realized the ants were now biting her. And she felt someone else's presence.
She was not alone and her head snapped up out of her commiserating. An older woman stood in the row in front of her, two headstones to the right. She was facing a polished, glossy, black headstone, her left hand resting on top of the headstone, her right hand gripping a tissue. The old woman knelt down and kissed the picture on the headstone. And then the woman wept. And Sabrina heard her own anguish echoed in this woman's soft sobs. She shed tears with the woman and contemplated her pain as a mother loosing her son.
I know such pain. I hear your grief. And though mine are for a brother, I know. I know the anguish that tortures you. I know the crazy questions...especially the what if's. I know the heartache. I can feel how it haunts you and never goes away. I know you know that time does not really make it better...you just learn to cope better. Nothing makes something like this better. We just know and understand it's part of life, though we may not particularly like that it had to be us. Life is painful. We know this....and I know now, we are never alone. There is someone that understands us. There is always someone who shares our pains, our sorrows, and our disappointments. I know this part of you, even though I've never met you....
Sabrina stood slowly, hesitant but filled with compassion. And compassion moved her. She walked silently over the the older woman with a flower in her hand. She placed the flower on the headstone, turned to the woman, and embraced her. Embraced her with all the understanding she had for this stranger. The woman clung to her and they wept together quietly. Mourn with those who mourn. Comfort those in need of comfort. Serve your fellow beings. The women stood in each other's embrace for a few seconds and then let go of each other. The younger nodded at the older, and the older smiled her appreciation and they parted. Life, while it can be ugly, is always beautiful when you can share and exchange compassion. She walked to her truck and glanced back at the woman as a jet took off over their heads.
God bless us all....
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