What’s up with that thin membrane between here and there?

Have you ever woke from a dream crying and in conversation with a loved one that has passed? 

I just did, and, of course, I am wondering why this dear friend came to me today, in the midst of a much needed nap. 

There is, after all, a thin membrane between here and there and I can’t help but ask myself what is the message or meaning of this ‘visit’. 

I remember how we used to laugh so hard together that we cried and at the end of his life we cried so hard, we laughed. 

Somehow we thought the finality of this new reality and the absurdity that we thought we knew what our future would hold and that everything would be golden and we would be laughing on a beach somewhere in the Caribbean in the spring was funny. 

There is actually nothing funny about helping one through their last days on earth but somehow we laughed. 

There’s a thin line there too, isn’t there?

Life and Death. 

Crying and Laughter

So now that I’ve slowed down my mind long enough to listen and reflect; I’m remembering a disturbing image. 

Today, I saw a picture of a very young Hispanic boy. 

A child. 

A tiny baby in a cage, no more than 4 or 5 years old,  detained in Texas with other children and I realized why I cried in my sleep. 

We have become a heartless nation that is too busy and self serving to hear the voices of crying babies or those of their mothers and fathers. 

Crying in ones sleep is not enough though and does nothing. We must all speak up for the children being held in cages right here and right now in 2018. 

We must  continue to #Resist this administration and join the fight to end this horrendous new reality. 

Children do not belong in cages. Anywhere. Ever. 

Thank you, Eric, for slowing down my mind and the reminder that despite the injustices and cruelty in life and in death, we must laugh. Always.