Fairy kiss

Being brave or not isn't a choice right now. An allergy caused by epidural anesthesia before last minute C section completely numbs my lungs. Baby is brought out fast, while the chord remains uncut. Doctors and nurses hope for us being able to breathe any moment.

Suffocating seconds, my arms and legs strongly jerk even if strapped to an operating room table. Agony for oxygen while being conscious, every second goes backwards, I don't advance. Unable to open my eyes, my world turns dark.

Keeping rational while oxygen is not needed any long is quite an experience. My thought? I never saw her. Going away, floating at peace inside of what feels as a womb, so protected, warm, loving. No emotion just existing the moment. This feeling of transitioning even if still pending between two worlds.

I can hear the comments... The baby looks blue and she can't breathe by herself either. I hear a count down from ten to one. Doctor or nurse yells at me "BREATHE" I can't from where I am. A second count down from ten to one "BREATHE"

Back to the body for sure, still not knowing how to breathe. Not having a sense of time.

Doctor talks to me loud and firm, I won't cut the chord! Please breathe give her oxygen through the chord.

Still to this point, not knowing how I made it to breathe that day. Once in my arms her little nose was broken from the rush, her face swollen. Most beautiful tiny miracle.

Our girl, a brave soul. Our nation in times of persecution, having lost her grandparents to the cause of greed and evil two years before her birth. Being a witness to this tremendous painful event remained embedded in me. One night you love them and say good night, the next day a date not to forget.

My girl's dad left ten months after she was born, This persecution never stopped, I hoped we could have said good bye to him.

A new life away from the city, renouncing my land and properties to avoid conflict or persecution. Understanding that in order to keep my siblings safe also I had to be away from them.

Hoping to be safely hidden while raising her during tumultuous times, not knowing if we were going to make it alive in this world. Taking one day at a time in despair becomes a tonic for the soul. Survival mode in such a nation doesn't offer shelter of any kind. Get strong is a must. No time for lamenting. The muscle from where that kind of strength builds only comes from within.

Volunteering as an English teacher for children in extreme humble environments becomes my strength. Having access to learn a second language is amazing to them. Watching my girl grow in such understanding for dignity, mercy and charity among this very humble farmer children was a gift in disguise for both of us. We walked 6 miles in the forest to get there on a daily basis. Rain or cold.

Days become busy. Trauma heals as it transmutes in to hope for youth in forsaken places. Perfect exchange for goodness. Those kids never knew and never will know about what was going in my life or Sara's. They just loved My happy fun English lessons. I gave all of me, it was now or never to bring the diamond out knowing these kids also had their good share of tragedy at home or because of the armed conflict.

Having a rare opportunity to understand a second language for their first time in life also is a new world to them. As a flag for peace a tent in our hearts is common ground felt as home. We left tragedy every day for the purpose of fearless joy.

I left everything behind to keep my daughter safe. One new world away from comfort. She grows and funds run low, so many daily miles her shoes get torn and smaller. At times and with sense of humor I would tell her... Honey please don't grow up! Mom can't afford it right now. We truly laughed at it. Actually she was very frugal, a state of peaceful happiness was her mode. I observed her quietly often, she becomes my teacher. Up to these days is just like that. My Sara grows appreciation organically.

We help to cook and serve breakfast for the children, some of them never eat at home as there is no food, some are mistreated by their parents out of imminent ignorance, school means freedom to them.

Personal funds continue go low. Still the shadows of witnessing brutal acts come visit in the quiet of my peace. I look at the stars, throwing thoughts straight from my heart unable to think. The stars conspire by twinkling back my hope.

One night, in the midst of my despair before bed time I sing to my girl this popular song from a cartoon movie that talks about a whole new world. Actually I promised to take her to a new land.

There is so much more to this story a letter can't reveal.

I dedicate this letter to my girl Sara, who has never given time to lamenting or complaint. Strong will, commitment, discipline. At an early age her eyes have seen so much, grieve has only made her stronger.

Her destiny appointed strongly to service. Unattainable turns in to practicality leading her daily agenda. She has no time for less.

Once in the new land we applied Political Asylum. My life here has been a living miracle one step at a time. We ended up in a women's shelter explaining our concerns. My nation's problematic is not easy to be understood by the American system. I was thoroughly evaluated by psychologists and staff. The case was taken under pro bono and through Rocky Mountain Survivor Center. This program who helped victims of persecution and torture sadly doesn't exist any long. Still remember the lawyers who devotedly worked for us. Gratitude, love, and new memories built in peace. Looking at the starry nights in Vail CO, a new life, feeling I can breathe deep again without fear. Living in the US allowed for me to be able to close the bathroom's door while taking a shower, I wasn't able to do that for so many years back then. I was inside a bathroom when horror came as part of my life experience. Is the little things.

My girl came here to the US not knowing a lot of English. Three months after enrolled in school she becomes the best in her class.

Graduated from International Baccalaureate and a diploma in biology. She was offered to be part of Harvard and Yale. Being a dreamer still. I never had the money for Harvard but proud she took my courage and turned it in to gold, the kind of gold that shines facts.

She is 28 years old now. I promised her a song, her returns exceeded.

At this point my girl is Human Resources manager for sixteen restaurant branches in the United States. Her charity and compassion never stops. Organizing blood draws, also in charge of the teddy bear annual for Children's Hospital in connection to affiliated renown ones who will perform and accomplish last wishes for extremely ill children. She sings to them like a pro.

A phone call...

Mom, mom! please pick me up... I am at the hospital, no one can pick me up. I travel from a close city. She just donated bone marrow to a little girl somewhere in the state of Florida who is dying.

The hospital's helicopter will transport the specimen to Denver airport at 7:00 pm together with a connecting flight to Florida.

One year has passed, we are told my daughter did save a little girl's life.

In fact, this is also a letter for many moms and daughters that are also going or may have gone through immigration as my daughter still is. We come to this place hoping to give and write a new story. For the great. Stories about immigrants are rich to me.

At a very early age she spoke in a very articulated manner, wisdom would come out of that tiny mouth. Irreverent at times, specially if she was to observe injustice or criticism detrimental to others. A time when my mom was still alive she saw us arguing back and forward, sharply looking at us saying... Mom, Grandma? Am I in good hands with you two? she was only four years old. End of discussion, I felt small, we ended up laughing.

She never wanted for me to date after her dad passed and clever she was at spooking my prospects away. I found her over the phone secretively and in a very low voice. Sorry... mom is not here and to be honest with you, mom and I talked and we are not interested in a sentimental relationship at this point. The guy never called me back. She has done that several times.

I have felt lost many times in life, probably I lost myself to courage, it hasn't been easy to land in a nation with a girl and a baby and four hundred bucks. Not a relative or a friend. But the hopes for a much more peaceful time.

Ah! the story of the baby and many more are part of my womanhood. Inexplainable has been how my life has been often times and still my girl continued to make it in such graceful manner. You reading this letter... There is failure and tiredness, frustration, sickness and much more. Is all within. I don't know how a magic pill would have helped me were a mistake could have caused a new tragedy. Forget, forgive, go light. The standards of the world are possibly not. live your purpose regardless of being called crazy or a loser or whatever. Go to your pillow and hug it THIGHT together with a smile for gratitude as today you were able to be "Simply you"

I have gone through so much so far, now age 52. Witnessing destruction leads to two different roads. One as a heavy suitcase dragged by the years. To open it every day, check on how the items are being positioned according to the shake of a daily game. By remembering the past road close it and play. As a broken record reaction never seems to stop.

More of the same somehow is presented through people and actions. Further more is reflected in health or outcomes.

Being tired about reaction, the mind decides differently. The crazy game is not meant for destruction or personal lament. Instead is just a chance to make it right and grow strong while still walking the soil. I know it is easier at times to hold a grudge, even fun! Desire for positive is a choice. Us women are very much capable of that, it is in our nature, our motherhood.

How can you forgive the ones who took the lives of those you adored?

I choose my peace, my girl, and gaining power over it.

Understanding every step we walk this life for good or not so good will always have an impact. How can we heal our path that others can experience a brighter lifetime? So much contrast, is inevitable. Still outcomes and their either neutral or positive appreciation about situations regardless of what so called good or bad, can truly change this world one good outcome at a time. I learnt this from my girl. Wisdom comes in small containers. Those who know her understand.

Choosing is a science that never fails.

In the name of my daughter Sara her tenacity and love for human beings.

This is in general a letter to honor women. We were given power to bring life and we continue doing it. If this letter uplifts you, then it already served the purpose.

The picture is My girl performing for children, kissing a butterfly the precise moment it flew to her finger. She blends her executive life together with her artistic abilities.