i guess it was 15 years ago that hurricane andrew hit the home i grew up in....i can still remember what the sky looked like and how the air smelled, the sound of the wind, the faces in the room. things were never exactly the same in homestead, florida but you could count on the people. everywhere you went, every line you stood in, everyone had a story. people just kept telling stories, for years, until so much time had past we said everything that needed to be said. we talked and we worked, other people came and they listened and worked along side us.
what happens when you can't work, when no one comes, no one is there to hear your story. the story becomes longer, and more time and more hurt goes by and you are left wondering if anyone cares at all....i know this- you can't even begin to rebuild until you start telling stories and someone that cares listens, really listens...
i don't want a big house...i don't want nice furniture...i don't want any more stuff...i just want a photo booth. my very own to sit in my living room or hall, everything is better and more magical in a photo booth....
it's soooo 10 years ago.....but the question is - does it look 10 years ago? i'm tryin' to get some promotional gigs to help cover the bills these days. not exactly the bikini rum girl kind of the 18-25 year old variety, it's more the "would you like a sample of the latest herbal shampoo?". jorge convinced me i only have to look cute in short shorts, a brand t-shirt and baseball cap. this i can pull off, anything more- i'm toast.
i've been searching craigslist daily for something mindless, not a regular gig and decent money. the problem is i need 2 decent pictures of myself, actually i probably need headshots. there's no way in hell i'm paying for headshots for a job that will pay for preschool tuition and soccer registration, come on!
so while i try to decide if i'm fit enough to pass out snicker marathon energy bars, these are the two pics that made the final cut. let's hope they don't laugh at the 10 year difference....
to end it properly we are having the 1st ever mama-slam championship. it's a 3 day event with the winner choosing the pizza place of choice for dinner this weekend- they will choose cici's, mine would be bottom's up. mama-slam is a wrestling, tickling sort of game that was started when jorge had his knee surgery last year. jorge played "blue-guy" (i have no idea how that name came about) everyday since the beginning of children time so we had to find some sort of replacement when he was out for a few months. i think it was started because we could possibly have the most gentle children in america- i actually heard jack apologize to a tree yesterday. it was my husband's kind way of boyin' them up and getting out some energy.
mama-slam stuck....i will say it is starting to get more brutal, they are getting stronger in their tag team tactics.
last night's round goes to the kids....i'm comin' back tonight. i'm hoping to recruit lucy but she's only like half a wrestler right now.
the weather is ever changing in my own spiritual atmosphere, i have found it stormy and unstable lately. some days i wonder if there really is a personal god and others i am fully embracing the comfort of the divine, i won't even attempt to explain. my mother however, is steadfast and grounded. i have thought of her all week as she is traveling in the sudan. when talking on the phone the other day she wondered aloud....
m:"i think i might get there and cry the whole time." me: "that's okay mom, maybe that's what you will need to do." "you can trust yourself mom, you will know what to do and how to be."
and then i came across this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P1w5BbCsZqA
i started thinking about the people of sudan and all they have endured, i thought about all the times in my life i have heard someone sing that hymn. people with deep grief, sadness, painful stories. people that claimed the hope, the words, the promise that something greater than yourself has you in his/her heart even on the darkest day. i thought about my mom, being some divine portion in the flesh. i can only imagine what she is taking in, and how some sudanese woman is becoming her constant friend.
the girls voices are powerful and strong, their playful spirits sound free....may the god of my mother, may the divine mother, may allah watch my mom and those she loves in sudan this night....his eye is on the sparrow.