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AV Golden Hawks

Updated: Jun 3, 2021


Miami Springs Senior High - 1984

To say she is the Spirit that guides me - is an understatement.

I never saw it coming. June 4, 2018.

Becoming this eternal light, no longer bound by body - shook me. Rocked me to my core. She was a prolific Writer, Artist, Creator - Truth Seeker. A giant at times, with a keen intellect. Breadths of knowledge oft unproportionately balanced with the patience for a World that refused to catch up with it all. Somehow believing if she had the space, time or energy, something grand would happen. She took writing classes and had all the books, the voice, if not the courage, support, or encouragement. We are but our choices.

When she passed. I promised to get her Published. I haven't known where to start.

The notebooks upon notebooks. The jotted prose scribbled in the margins of her crossword puzzle. All telling a story; Of wonderment, Observation, Acute Awareness, and Charging Spirit. Her two greatest joys in life were raising her Children and being a Teacher. Her Audience; Captive, Attentive. She had a Stage. Her pulpit. And she was good. Never mainstream, always wild - Authentically. She certainly lived with Gusto. In an effort to honor her legacy, as an Artist, Mother & Teacher, I attempt to etch and curate some of her Stories. I may end a sentence with a preposition, post a raw verbal dump or unedited photo. In real time, without judgement. Perfection can be just so limiting. We use to say, "Have a Perfect Day" ... And in that was an understanding that we Earth Bound Beings live in an imperfect World. To understand that meant that everyday, everything ... was as it should be. Even when things may not have appeared to go according to plan...It was innately Perfect. I wish I could promise humor, maybe we will get there. I do know the World in which she thrived; Raw, Vulnerable, Real, Childlike, Forceful, Untethered, sometimes (dare I say)...down right Scary. Thats her style. There are more moments of Gratitude, particularly in what she taught, and continues to share. A lot of breaths now in Grace, some in Grief, Struggle, Perception, and Faith. Not a day goes by where I do not long for her spark of fury voice in a Thunder or Whisper coupled with Laughter to tickle my ears. In my lifetime I bore witness to more shots of creative juice then I can count, always boldly grounding her to the present moment. It was elecT(ERR)ifying, and too coupled with an available warm drawn hug providing the protection which only a bear of a mother could share. In the end, she became tired. Irritated by the necessity of the weight gathered in a mere mortal body. The Real Tick Tock Time Clock of certainty is that every life spins its own wildly true story. All weaving a classic "tale told...full of sound and fury" masterpiece. Ensuring life eternal held within a Beginning, Middle, and End. While she may not have agreed, she certainly did surrender. I may not have been ready. But with everything she was a little ahead of her time. And so it was her chance to finally slow down. Breath in Breath out. The final light white breaths. It was Perfect. And in that she is closer now then she ever could be. Her Sotto Spirit rustling me forward with Guiding Light. Because of her-

I am Ghetto Granola


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