Blogging Days

If you’re following us and haven’t (or have) figured it out, we are a group of nine college students blogging daily for a creative writing class at Cosumnes River College.  Below are our scheduled days we each post: Sunday Matthew Monday Eleanor Kiran Tuesday Ashley O. Wednesday Brittany Thursday Emily Friday Ashley B. Brianna Saturday […]

Where’s the Nosh?

It literally baffles my mind that there is only one Jewish deli in all of Sacramento (that I have been able to find). Like. I literally had to ask my boyfriend if Sacramento is anti-Semitic or if people really just don’t like kosher food, or matzo ball soup. I was genuinely curious.

I just want some latkes, some matzo ball soup, and a good old tuna sandwich. Why is this so hard?

I’m from Los Angeles and sometimes I just miss going to Jerry’s at 11:30 pm half drunk and getting some nosh. That’s all I want from Sac. But you have given me nothing and I am sad. I miss the good ol’ days.

Call me a whiney picky foodie, but I miss my Jewish Deli Food. It has it’s own specific flair that I will always miss.

Till Next Time,

B

It May Be May

You look up all of a sudden and realize that it’s May… It’s amazing how fast time really flies. We’re almost halfway through with 2016 and this semester is almost done. It feels unreal and almost make believe that spring is here and summer is here to follow. This is the final stretch for school, and the final semester I before I transfer. Essentially, this is an ending for one part of my life, while also the beginning of another.

I don’t know if it’s a bitter sweet feeling or what, but looking back I’ll have a little bit of nostalgia. While during the moment I might have hated every minute of certain tasks. When I look back I realize that it wasn’t half bad and a decent memory to have. That not to say I would want to do any of that stuff right now… Yeah, we’ll just say that everything is better or worse in your memories.

Still, I have to go back to a feeling of disbelief. I, myself, still hasn’t had it seep in yet. It’s not that it is a big deal by any means, but it just doesn’t seem real that a half a year has almost gone by. The amount of hours that have just rolled on by. The only thing that will always remain constant is time. It’ll keep going and never stopping. Then there also death and taxes, but those are not as fun…

Well, now that I wasted a few moments of your life reading this, I only have one thing to really say. Go have fun. And if that fun is reading then have a blast reading more of my useless banter.

That’s it for this week, have a good one.

Cat

 

-Matthew Church

Uh-oh…

Months ago I found out, two years after high school, that a rumor was spread about me by someone I ‘trusted’. My Eco partner. I think because I was very shy and to myself what he said made me an easy target. I didn’t associate myself around the “popular kids” not because I didn’t want too but because I simply did not know how to. Long story short, a guy I had a huge crush on in HS told my newest guy friend that MY Econ partner had told a select few of people that I gave him oral sex. How nice it was for me to find out TWO YEARS later! I did like him but I aslo didn’t, that too is a long story. I was so taken by what had been rumored of me and I crushed him. I sent him a text which told him I never liked him, I pretended we were cool, and he is immature.

Last night I went to my first house party. It was so lame that we left at 11:00 a few minutes before the cops showed up to end a party that never started. So boring. I saw this kid I knew from middle school (I went to Kerr and EGHS). I know he and my partner are friends and subconsciously I knew Econ boy would be there. I didn’t think much of it, at all. I stayed with my best friend while my newest guy friend (let’s call him Ya) mingled by the front door. He finds my bestie and I and gives me the heads up that Econ boy was at the party and had told him that he had never said anything like that and I am “mad cool”. I look back and Econ boy is behind me. I looked past him as if I didn’t see him and turned to face my bestie. I felt tapping on my shoulder and back, I knew it was him so I ignored; plus everyone was so close I didn’t bother even trying to figure who was touching me. mid-back he placed his hand and swooped to the left side of me. He caught me by surprise and said, “I never said any of those things”. I just looked at him frozen and did not say a word because my eyes do the talking. He put his head down retracted his hand a walked away. I feel bad. Why? I was being a bitch but he seemed so sincere. It made me miss him. Ya told me in the car ride home that the situation was two years ago and in high school and “it’s whatever”. I was PISSED. Other people knew of that rumor and I didn’t. How do you think people remember? If my ex- crush had remembered, why would others forget? At this point I believe Econ boy’s sincerity but I am forcing myself to believe my ex- crush.

Ya knows I am pissed at him and he is a hypocrite for so many reasons but him telling me this situation is whatever was rude. It’s not you. It’s me. I am one who wants to know EVERY part of a story otherwise without fact i am going to assume out of anger and make decisions I will regret. I don’t know what to do…..

The End is Near.

Hello, hello! The end is near which for a lot of people means… FINALS. I know that I, as well as a lot of you, will be completely stressing and possibly freaking out over these next couple of weeks. For this hard time I wanted to share with you all a list of things I do to keep stress at a minimum before, during, and after my finals crisis. (The following images are NOT mine!)

Malia Tate (TW)

BEFORE:

  • Look at any info given to you for what to expect on your midterm. If you were not given a list or something similar then pester your professor for some hints. This way you know what to look for when it comes time to study.
  • Schedule a time in advance for you to go somewhere quiet, or loud if it’s in a study group, so you know when you’ll be studying, for how long, and not accidentally make plans over it.
  • Get all of your indulgences out of the way! Do you have that one show you need to catch up on? Did your fave’s new album just drop? Did a new restaurant open that you’ve been dying to try? Need to share the latest gossip with your BFF? Do those things ASAP so that they don’t serve as distractions when your final needs your attention.

Willow Rosenberg (BTVS)

DURING:

  • Give yourself time. Don’t expect a 5 hour cram sesh to be the key to retaining all the information you need. Admit it, you’re no Willow Rosenberg. Touching some book and just absorbing the information isn’t likely.
  • If you have a speech, record yourself reciting it and then practice by talking along while the recording plays.
  • Every hour of studying deserves a twenty minute break. Within this twenty minutes between studying you can do anything. Grab a snack, listen to music, meditate, or whatever. Just let your mind rest every once in awhile instead of trying to get it all in one go.
  • BRAIN FOOD! Make sure that you’re eating the healthiest food you can get your hands on during this time. Couple that with around the clock hydration and you’ll have the energy you need to get through the hell that is finals week. No one wants to see you crash, not even your Professor.
  • Grab a partner to study with if you end up having questions or feel like you’re missing something.
  • Background music has been proven to help people study. For me, I like to play yoga music. Anything that won’t distract you, but will work as a nice background noise is best. If you don’t like yoga music, or classical, I suggest going foreign. You’ll be able to feel the beat, but won’t get sucked into the lyrics.

Orphan Black dancing gif

AFTER:

  • Now it is time to let loose all the tension that has been building up. Indulge in your favorite activity for however long necessary.
  • Take the longest shower of your life to get rid off all that gross stress sweat. Plus, showers are their own kind of magic medicine. You just can’t help feeling better after.
  • Treat yourself to your favorite food for being able to get through all the crazy that comes with finals.
  • Try not to stress over what grade you got. If you did your best or even half of that, you passed.
  • Dance! It doesn’t matter where, just shake out all of that extra tension.
  • Learn something new. Picking up a new fact or interest can help get your mind off of all the material that has been crammed into it the past couple of weeks. For example: Did you know that a banana is actually a berry, but a strawberry or a raspberry aren’t!?
  • Drink some hot tea. Though there are teas specifically meant to calm the consumer (ie: chamomile) holding a warm cup also has a soothing effect. If you don’t like tea, coffee or hot chocolate will work the same!
  • Get some sleep. It wouldn’t be college if the students weren’t pulling extra hours to get some work in. Have a nice nap.

Good luck, everyone. I hope this helped. You can do it!

Enjoy life,

Brianna Renner

Poetry Lovers at Luna’s Café

lunaslogo_200Hi, everyone!

I had a lovely experience at Luna’s Café last night for their Thursday night open mic poetry readings. For this blog I would like to share my experience with you (which is also my essay for my class) and give you all some information about this wonderful establishment. Luna’s Café and Juice Bar is located at 1414 16th St, Sacramento, CA 95814. I highly recommend this café for their great food and drinks and the opportunity to have your poems heard and listen to other poets. Discover cool dishes like the Cabradilla dish a goat cheese Quesadilla, the Botanadilla appetizer, their Lemonberry beverage, and their LemonJade (to name a few).

For more information on Poetry Unplugged, go to “Joe Montoya’s Poetry Unplugged” page on Facebook or www.lunascafe.com.

Poetry Unplugged from Luna’s Café

The room was small but the atmosphere for art pleasantly overwhelmed the little café. People of all ages sat and stood around a small stage and listened to the poets who read from the spaces of their minds and hearts. Pictures of art and posters for Women Wisdom Projects displayed the plain white walls. Here, people communicated in silence; ears and minds opened wide for the reflections of others to welcomingly invade their thoughts. A small bar resided in the far back of the room and a little kitchen area worked alongside of it. Drinks and words were flowing just as easily as applause and acceptance; no judgments were uttered. Different voices and different styles of expressions walked the stage. Luna’s Café is the longest running open mic poetry reading establishment in northern California that began in 1995 by Joe Montoya, ;it’s home to a lot of local and out of the area poets who come in to be heard. This experience has given me a broader interpretation of poetry and birthed light onto new styles and ideas.

As I sat and listened to the poems of several poets along with the feature poet, local poet Nancy Aidé González; I absorbed many different ideas, reflections, and emotions. Expressions that ranged from love, loss, betrayal, anger, and mystic revelations. Nancy Aidé González is an editor staff reader for the Tule Review at the SPC (Sacramento Poetry Center) which gives writers the opportunity to expand their growth as writers and gain the experiences that pave their way towards becoming a published poet. Their ultimate goal is to provide tools to help artists improve themselves. More information on the Tule Review can be found online at www.TuleReview.com. There was no specific tone that set the mood of the room but the fog of conscious that made the air. The fog hovered over everyone and reeled us all in to this exotic experience that was getting into the minds of others; actually putting ourselves in someone else’s shoes and walking into this poetic visual of someone’s story and someone’s ideas. Topics included: humorous mind bending politics, love stories, betrayals, the pairing of two historical icons that meet for a bar-themed affair. From friendships and unbreakable bonds to strength derived from angst. From collecting memories of a son’s view of his father and his own version of “Rocket Man” fused with a guitar and a harmonica; to a reflected wishful cigarette addict, guilt ridden by his own incarceration. From nature lovers whose minds wonder on secluded tracks to the lonesome train ride of depression that adds more and more lost wanderers mercilessly. From touching social issues involving the challenges immigrants faced to society emotion genocide. Presentation was also the center of diversity; people presented their poems softly, tenderly, with rage, with angst, with longing, and with humor. The man who spoke of incarceration sang a song of a love he mourns before diving into his heart wrenching story of his relationship with cigarettes.  I even pushed my nerves aside and read two of my poems, debuting my first reading at Luna’s Café. People undressed their souls nude; revealing the moments where their souls crumbled and became reborn again.

I sat down to talk with the owner of Luna’s Café, Art Luna, after the open mic was finished. When I asked Art, what was the inspiration behind the making of poetry open mic night or Poetry Unplugged, as he calls it? He answered, “Joe Montoya Jr. who is the son of a well recognized visionary poet, Jose Montoya, wanted to explore the form and function of poetry. He wanted to bring new energy and break the mold of poetry to create a limitless free speech except for hate speeches. He also wanted to be open and to encourage people to do more poetry. It opened a line of poetry venues, people saw the success and they wanted to open more venues.” I then asked him, what was his goal for establishing poetry nights? Art replied, “The goal for me was to create an art café, a venue of a combination of arts. I was part of the Boards of Records for the la Raza [the race] Galleria Posada. It was like a Chicano art gallery that was established in the mid 70s where I was working at the Flamingo in the bay area, which was like a jazz scene. The la Raza was made up of cantos, singing in flowery-singing, an Aztec word meaning poetry. While I was doing Luna’s Café, I met Joe twenty-one years ago and we partnered up to do the poetry open mic. It brought local and international poets to the café which was a goal to promote poetry more. The major goal was art and the exploration poets expressed through their own ideas, and also, to give poets a chance to express themselves and push themselves out of their limits.” When I asked him what was his favorite part about poetry nights and what was the biggest thing he took from it, he replied, “The two major things are one, I love the variety of poetry and the various poets and two, I love feature poets- poet masters that come in from Los Angeles, San Francisco, the bay area, and the east coast. New York invited Luna’s to be a part of the archives for published works in a poetry museum.” I then asked him what was his most memorable moment so far that made him feel proud for being a part of the poetry experience. He answered, “The magical nights, the music and the art; so many great nights of poetry and so many people being here. It’s a combination of new poets reading well and being well received, and master poets having everyone hanging on their every word.” In my last question, I asked him how many people come in on poetry nights. He replied, “In the old days when poetry was more of performance poetry where people acted out their poetry with animation, the café would get so full or the reading list would be so long that I had to close the shop and call it a night because we would go on until two in the morning. Nowadays we get from fifteen to twenty-five readers.” He also added, “Music was also a part of poetry. Joe was in a band called Tatted Love Dogs where his poetry would be their songs. Joe’s father played guitar and he was a huge influence to him. We would get poetry police, people coming in and making a fuss about our poetry being too loud or too wild. To me, songs are poetry, people write from experiences. Back then we had hip hop, jazz, and other genres backing up the poet.” In his final thoughts of the night, he ended our conversation saying, “Words create images, with the use of word-smithing and these images took people on a trip with gracefulness. Like a bird taking flight or a bird swooping down and taking fish from the water. There was sourness for the fish losing its life but it all becomes something else, there is no death because it will turn into something else. It’s like a cycle and to me that is what poetry is.”

This hour interview and two hour reading experience helped broadened my interpretation of poetry because it also made me think of the evolution of music when a new generation blossoms and changes the old traditional ways. Performance poetry reminded me of the Velvet Underground, like a theatrical and animated way of self expression that was different from the traditional ways of standing still in front of a mic and reading with a mellow pace. Every poem that was read was freestyle, the goal Joe and Art set out to do. It was the listeners too that caught my attention because everyone listened to the poems differently. Some people closed their eyes, some stared intently at the speaker, and some stared off into space at some object in the room while they internalized the poem.  Some poets came up to the mic with their poems already published in books and it inspired me more because I want to do that! Whether my poems sell or not, I want them published, observed, taken in with reflections and ultimately, taking someone on a trip. After hearing some of the poems like the mind bending humorous but in depth thoughts that sometimes didn’t rhyme, it inspired me to want to try that style and try performance poetry and see how carried away I can get; drifting in the endless sea of creativity. I want to bring people down in the undertow of my thoughts and make them think. It was an educational experience and it made the artist in me starve for more experience. To me poets are like Phoenixes, they die a little in their art so they can shed themselves and be reborn again. That’s why I love poetry so much and that’s why I want to be a part of it.

Until next Friday,

Ashley  🙂

LunasCafe.png

 

 

 

 

 

poetry.png

 

 

 

 

 

 

That’s me reading my poems. Sorry for the poor quality, I took this picture from a video.

 

Food, food, and more food.

*I thought I had scheduled this to post on Wednesday, but I must have derped.


Every family has their thing. Ours was food. Cooking, eating, and enjoying life over food. It was a neutral zone and a time to relax. When we cooked something or ate something, everything seemed to click.

My mother comes from a very large, Lebanese family. There isn’t a family get together I don’t remember not having hummus and lebneh as an appetizer. It was always in stock in my fridge.

My mother bought me several cookbooks as a child, teaching me to enjoy eating AND making food at a young age. She still has the first cookbook she gave me.

But like every teenager, I went through changes and ended up having a challenging relationship with food, and my mother, for a very long time. I eventually came find comfort in cooking, using it as a way to bond with my mom. To this day, I still call my parents to make sure I’m doing something right.

Trying to replicate my moms recipes isn’t an easy task. A lot of the time, I’ll mess it up by adding too much of one ingredient. My family doesn’t use precise recipes a lot of the times, as they were basically just taught to make them by their parents. So, there is a lot of room for error without practice. I’ve managed to replicate and regularly make some of the things we would eat, but it’s still magical when I get to visit my parents, and have dinner with them.

So, I guess the way you can explain my methods are self taught, family taught, and a lot of reading/practice. I’m not the best cook, but I try my best.

Till next time.

B

There I go, warts and all.

Wow, here we are at the final week.  I really didn’t know if I’d get this far; it’s a lot of work.  Being a college student is tough enough, but being a college student while also juggling a variety of other things (like a full-time job and major health issues) is quite another.  I’m sure I never would’ve made it this far if I also had children.

I’ll admit I’ve had my share of mental puzzles along the way.  I’ve wondered why other blogging classmates both here and on other class blogs have not been successful.  I’ve wondered, if I could get it done with all I have to do in addition (like that full-time job) then why couldn’t they?  Know what I realized?  One, it’s not a competition and, two, my crosses to bear are not theirs (and I haven’t necessarily been successful across the board).  Anyway, who knows why my fellow bloggers here haven’t been consistent or on time?  Who knows why other class blogs seemed to have lost their momentum or never found their footing to begin with?  It’s especially hard to find motivation when you don’t have it (which I don’t always have, either).  I was blessed this semester with my group agreeing on a theme that I was able to work with successfully – moments in the life of a college student.  The first theme that was suggested, controversial issues, I could see off the bat failing abysmally.  I couldn’t see that many controversial issues to discuss on a daily basis over the course of a few months.  I also didn’t think it would attract much interest (I certainly wouldn’t have found twelve controversial issues upon which I wanted to write).  This one we decided on I was able to organize blogs right off the bat, and I’m pretty sure that’s why I’ve been able to write with relative ease.

I’ll admit, also, that my suspicion at the start of the semester that I’d have a much easier time of it given my many years in college appears to be accurate (to me, anyway).  Think along the lines of Boston Rob in Survivor (if anyone out there watches the show and knows the reality show personality).  Boston Rob was on Survivor something like 3 or 4 times before he finally came up with a formula that took him to the end and got him to win (I’m glad he finally won because I was darn sick of seeing him on the show).  Anyway, Boston Rob knew what worked and, more importantly, what didn’t work.  That’s how I see my college experience.  As a young college student, I didn’t know yet what doesn’t work.  I know I have more than one classmate who has stated that s/he has nothing to do other than school so, in theory, s/he should be pretty successful.  However, from reading their blog posts, it’s clear that’s not the case.  It has made me wonder why they aren’t successful in, at least, blogging on time, if not regularly.  I then think back to the one summer I spent in summer school when I was not working.  I certainly should’ve done really well in my classes yet I did not because, as I recall, my thinking was “I have all day to work on these assignments so I’ll do this, that and the other thing and work on them later.”  Later never happened, and I believe I ended up passing those classes with Bs and Cs but definitely no As.  Good study habits I certainly don’t have – good consistent study habits, anyway.

It’s so easy to judge other students from this chair of experience and wonder why they aren’t putting more into their experience, especially since creative writing is not a transfer requirement.  Again, as my husband would often remind me, I don’t know what’s in the hearts of others.  If I were such a perfect, focused student, I, for one, wouldn’t still be taking community college classes towards my bachelor’s degree ten million years later.  And, if I were really going to dream big, I wouldn’t have been in a community college to begin with – I would’ve gotten into a university like UC Berkeley almost thirty years ago.

So, what does this, my semester of creative writing and blogging, teach me?  I’ve learned to love writing again and wish my dad were still alive to experience this with me (apparently, he wrote crappy love stories for magazines for profit when he was in college).  I hope to find other constructive outlets for my writing and learn to grow.  I hope to finally explore my interest in storytelling and get over the stage fright that so grips me when I have to get in front of a crowd (even reading in church unnerves me but, then again, it’s sometimes a tough, unsmiling congregation I’ve faced).  I’ve found myself challenged to write in formats I’ve not previously explored (I really did enjoy writing the sonnet, Professor; I was just trying to inject humor!).  I may even try to write the things I took a “holiday” on because all I could think was, “Oh, no; I really don’t feel like giving this one a go (such as the elegy)!”

For other classes, I hope I finish as successfully as I see me finishing creative writing (and my effort in this class has definitely not been perfect but much more consistent and easier to be consistent than others).

For my fellow college students who haven’t put in the years but also haven’t put in the effort – do yourselves a favor and embrace the experience now.  I’m nowhere near sorry for the journey I’ve taken that puts me where I am years later, but I would’ve liked to be able to focus on enjoying life with my husband, rather than letting him know time and again that I’ve got to plant myself in front of my computer or books in order to complete my mountain of schoolwork.  I wish I could tell my younger self that the angst I experienced along the way from not liking my joe job to wanting to go do fun stuff instead of staying home to study to not being able to focus while my love life was non-existent or a mess was really temporary and not really important in the grand scheme of things.  Oh, well.  It is what it is.  Blogging, as well as the rest of the creative writing class, has been an enriching and interesting experience as a small part of my college experience and a metaphor for my college life overall, and I wouldn’t change a thing.

LNR

 

Being Queen

 

Oprah Winfrey once said, “Think like a queen. A queen is not afraid to fail. Failure is another steppingstone to greatness.” Though fearing failure can sometimes be an unavoidable feeling, it is also a value in which we must learn if we wish to succeed through life’s hurdles.  As existence has proven, the journey for a woman—no matter her race or her origins—has and will continue to be an epic adventure brimming with challenges and unique exhilarations.

But what is a Queen, exactly?

A Queen is an independent being fearful of many things. She becomes scathed by hurtful actions, and sometimes collapses from over-exhaustion of her emotions—of feeling to greatly for that which she cares for. She is human. She hurts just as greatly as one does. So what exactly makes her strong and valiant like the Queen one envisions in their mind? It’s her struggle. But it is because of the various hardships and they way she endures, that she comes to expose the bold and withstanding creature that she is.

A Queen believes in herself unconditionally. But such unconditional faith does not arrive without any precedents that challenge the will. It is the way she overcomes challenges. It is the way she sees herself. It is the love in her heart. It is her humanity that makes her a being worth the title.

A Queen is not a ruler. She is not a manipulator or a callous being who must be revered as a goddess or master of the races. She is not above anyone else.

She is a Queen because she believes it. Her strength comes from pain. Her smile shines amidst the suffering she feels. Her eyes shine to reveal the truth. It is the way her hands caress the fragile earth, that you can view her usually unseen gentility. She is kindhearted. She is a dreamer. She is also full of fears.  But she doesn’t care. She still lives, despite that which terrifies her core. That is what makes a Queen.

What makes me a Queen?

Some days I’m still unsure if I can hold the title. For it takes no prestige in holding it, but rather a sense of self that must be earned. I’ve journeyed through a great deal of tragedy and heartbreak, and I wonder constantly if I can ever endure without setting myself back. I wake up every morning fighting to be someone I can be proud of. I hope with each new day, I can still aspire to be someone great. I persevere through that which frightens me most, and I only hope that from my fears—I can learn to find my strength.

Every day I am more inspired to live passionately. Every day I seek to spread kindness and hope that I can touch the heart of at least one person. Every day, I glance into the mirror and will myself to find the beauty in who I am. It is then, that I nod my head and smile. I believe that I am a Queen.

And so I am.

Ultimately, being a Queen means being strong in the face of adversity. It means loving others, finding worth in your life, and acknowledging yourself as an individual with the power to change. Every woman, whether triumphant in life’s challenges or not, has the capability to become a strong and independent individual and acknowledge themselves as ‘Queens’ of their own worlds. I know who I am, and I wont be discouraged by life’s challenges or fearful that I am insignificant in this world. I am a Queen, and it is time that the women of the world discovered that they are too.

-Kiran Bains Sahota ( www.sunsetdahlia.wordpress.com )

Just My Luck

Well, the title alone pretty much sums up everything you need to know… It’s been a pretty interesting series of days. First of all, it’s not like I have bad luck to begin with. No, I would like to think that my luck is actually pretty good. However, over not only this past week, but this year so far I’ve had far too many car issues in the same car. It’s not the car really that’s having problems, it’s just my luck.

I’ll start back all the way in around August or September when I got a flat tire. It was only a single tire, but because the treads on the others were so low I had to go and buy 4 tires. At that point I still didn’t realize my luck for this car. Flash forward a few months all the way till about February or January and I’m driving along the freeway and a rock hits dead center of the windshield  leaving a fairly large crack about the size of a quarter.

At this point I thought there was no way this could get any worse… Well, I was wrong. Just yesterday when I was attending the conference for Our Life Stories my battery died… Yep, that’s right my car wouldn’t start and I was pretty much stuck. Luckily for me I had my mom who came to go and jump the car.

Anyways, I’ve come to realize that I am the kiss of death when it comes to this car. Still, bad luck with vehicles just seems to be a trend I have. So with that being said, what are you unlucky with? Or are you just somebody whose lucky at everything? If you are just know that I might slightly resent you and not having such misfortune.

That’s just how yesterday went for me. And hopefully today isn’t quite as bad for me and you all.

 

-Matthew Church

Four Months

Heaven was always questionable for me and sometimes still is. When I, amongst some of your closest family members saw you pass, there was no fear, just sorrow. We saw you went peacefully. You told me it was okay when you squeezed my hand some long minutes before your final breaths. You were my first loss. I hate speaking of you in past tense because I still feel your presence within my memory. Four months flew by and today is your 88th birthday. I know as soon as you left you spread your snow- bright angel wings, walked on plush white clouds, and entered past a golden gate held open by God. I thank you for strengthening my belief in heaven because when my time comes, that is the only place I would love to meet you. I love you, Papa.

I could not post yesterday (Saturday the 24TH) because I attended the conference.  -VidasAura