Dear Jan:
It was so moving to see you today putting your pearls on to go shopping.
You had a relaxed afternoon at the High Park, David an I are not the greatest musicians, but you enjoyed the singing anyway. Later we had a nice BBQ with home-made food. Great to see you using that right hand in the kitchen. To finish the day we saw a nice movie (The Emperors Club) that allowed you to give your comments on the subject of teachers and ethics.
There is a song that summarizes what I felt today:
"When the sun's shinning down on me
when the world's all as it should be
Blessed be your name [...]
On the road marked with suffering
though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be your name"
FC
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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