When Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was murdered 50 years ago today by a racist pink prick, I sat in an Anatomy and Physiology class at San José City College in San José, California waiting for class to begin. The professor entered and strode to the podium, tears in his eyes, voice breaking, and softly said that Dr. King had been assassinated in Memphis, Tennesee. Robert F. Kennedy was also murdered that year, months apart. Class dismissed, the professor said and left. As I drove home, I listened to Janis Joplin singing on the car radio: Take a little piece of my heart now, baaby. I learned today that the racists of that day celebrated the murder perpetrated by a cowardly shithead. Things in this country haven’t changed much. The average citizen of the US of Norte America is an ignorant, knuckle-dragging racist. Consider the monster they elevated to the presidency of the republic who reigns today.
Wow, my ninth anniversary living in Honduras slipped right by me like a shadow in the night on February 24th. Life is but a dream. And in Honduras, it is a lovely dream. I am slowly accommodating to my new home, at the same time making room in my crowded schedule for English classes at the Home and resuming my interrupted writing schedule. I recently submitted the synopsis and the first three chapters of my biographical memoir to a publisher in the States. Sister Edith’s father died last Monday and that slowed everyone’s schedule to a crawl. He lingered in the hospital for two weeks. He is now free from pain. May he rest in peace in heaven. Life is but a dream.
A full moon is rising this gloaming over the park across the street from my new digs. There are always kids playing and having fun. Tomorrow I complete my move from my previous home, soon to be sold to the highest bidder. This new home of mine is actually the nicest place I have ever lived in Honduras. Kismet. God bless.
The residents at the St. Joseph Home for at-risk children have physically healed from their accident injuries. The psychological trauma however remains. We have on staff an excellent child psychologist who does quite well with the kids and they all like her; an important milestone. My bout with the flu is almost over, after 4 weeks. The virus picked an inopportune time to attack me, my having to move my belongings to a new home. I made one trip a day across town in my Honda hybrid moving slowly to conserve energy. On Sundays, after church, the oldest children helped move the big stuff in my old Chevy pickup. Next Sunday we’ll finish moving an armoire and a large filing cabinet and then we’re headed for the nearby Rio Humuya to relax in the water. I will be in my new home by March 1st. Yahoo!
I am two weeks into the most severe reaction to the flu that I have ever experienced. At my last visit to the States this past September I failed to receive my annual flu shot for the first time in decades. As I slowly begin to recuperate I also have a house move this month. Bad timing. The proprietors of my last two rentals assured me I could remain for several years. They lied. After the one year lease expired each told me they were going to sell the house. Ergot my third move in as many years. My future new owner tells me I can remain for 10 years, a very nice home, by the way. She says she’ll sell it to me. I doubt she means it but what choice do I have.
Celia and Sister Edith returned home yesterday, 23 January 2018, after 18 days in the hospital in Tegucigalpa following surgery for Celia’s fractured mandible. They were both welcomed with open arms and lots of hugs and good wishes. One other child remains in a long leg cast for a leg fracture. One adult will be seen tomorrow for a repeat ultrasound to check the status of a bruised ovary sustained in the accident. Apart from the emotional trauma, all other injuries have healed and life will gradually return to normal. We give thanks for having survived a more severe outcome.
Email to our friends in Texas: Hola, Allison, the plastic surgeon in Tegus wants to let the swelling go down before he works on Celia’s fractured mandible. Sister Edith or one of her family is at Celia’s side at all times. Celia is never alone. Sister Edith sent me a photo of Celia with Sister Edith feeding her jello. She may have sent you one as well. All the children have been stabilized. A pediatrician friend of mine is looking after the injured children at the Home daily. Another friend and I (I am an RN) are cleaning wounds daily, four have sutures, abrasions, and hematomas. Two children are using either a wheelchair or a walker. Celia is the last child who requires more intensive care but she is stable. One adult is still hospitalized in La Paz, one was discharged today. I communicate with Sister Edith twice a day while she is in Tegus. I will continue to keep you informed. Pictures of the wrecked minibus tomorrow. God bless you.
Peace On Earth, Good Will To Man. God Bless You All.
The Nativity play depicting the birth of Baby Jesus is progressing well. The kids are excited. They helped with the set construction and each has an acting part. From a donkey to the shepherds to Mary and Joseph. The show goes on December 23rd and 24th. Our dress rehearsal is December 22nd: less than two weeks. We, however, still have much work to do. Today we’re working on dialogue and will continue to rehearse every day. I have my fingers crossed.
The kids and I have been meeting weekly for the past three Sundays after mass, assigning characters. Today was our first act-through with everyone in their assigned places. The children were absolutely great. I could feel the positive self-esteem vibrating in the air. Having been raised in a religious environment, the kids are familiar with the story of Mary and Joseph’s trek to Bethlehem for the birth of Baby Jesus. I gathered them together to experiment with the characters’ dialogue and create a script. To my surprise, the youngsters created their own dialogue spontaneously. We had so much fun. The kids are so funny. They had me laughing out loud. Especially when 9-year-old Maryuri, substituting for our absent Mary actress, appeared with a soccer ball under her shirt feigning Mary’s pregnancy with Baby Jesus. Then she sat on 11-year-old Milthon’s back (our donkey) as they made their way to Bethlehem 🙂