Yes! The moving day is approaching fast.
We decided to move this weekend (June 24) to avoid the "moving jam" of the next weekend. We have been packing away, at times I wonder why do we possess so many things, how did we get into this situation. I envy those who have found the way to simplicity.
Thanks for the wonderful help of so many during this packing period. Thanks to those who will help this weekend in the moving. Thanks to those who will help us unpack. We are indebted to all of you for your generous help.
Jan has been struggling with the stress. She also suffers the side effects from the medication. But, all in all, she has been a trooper. Remember her in your meditations.
Fede and Jan
Jan had a brain hemorhage on February 10,2006. Against all odds, she survived and has gone far on her recovery. Her ordeal has been a source of pain and limitations, but also it has been a source of inspiration and learning for many. This blog is a caregiver's account. We hope one day she will tell her own story with her own words. -FC
If my heart was a river
If my heart was a river,
it would bear no scars,
it would embrace the rocks,
turn, roll and explode
in a joyful laughter
dissipated in white foam.
If my heart was a river,
it would bear no scars
when the curious child
sent that flat-rounded stone
skipping over the surface,
leaving ever growing rings,
soon to be hidden
in the memory of its flow.
If my heart was a river,
it would bear no scars,
when my love dipped her feet
in its waters to cool her day,
or when she raised her voice
to stop its flow,
or when she mixed
her tears with my waves.
But my heart is not a river,
it bears scars
as if it was wearing
the fingerprints of life.
F. Carrillo
Orest, a good friend of mine put music to the poem. You can listen to it here:
http://odeo.com/episodes/2000824-Heart-Like-a-River-September-27-session-mix
it would bear no scars,
it would embrace the rocks,
turn, roll and explode
in a joyful laughter
dissipated in white foam.
If my heart was a river,
it would bear no scars
when the curious child
sent that flat-rounded stone
skipping over the surface,
leaving ever growing rings,
soon to be hidden
in the memory of its flow.
If my heart was a river,
it would bear no scars,
when my love dipped her feet
in its waters to cool her day,
or when she raised her voice
to stop its flow,
or when she mixed
her tears with my waves.
But my heart is not a river,
it bears scars
as if it was wearing
the fingerprints of life.
F. Carrillo
Orest, a good friend of mine put music to the poem. You can listen to it here:
http://odeo.com/episodes/2000824-Heart-Like-a-River-September-27-session-mix
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