The Unclad Soul

On NPR (National Public Radio) this morning they played a recording of a typical scene now where the Border Patrol is separating children from their parents.  I was in my car on my way to work. I heard babies crying, children screaming in tears. A Border officer is heard saying in Spanish, "We have an orchestra." It was a pathetic attempt to settle the distraught children terrified of being taken from their parents. The Trump administration is trying, unconvincingly, to dress the scene in quiet calm with children getting food and medicine, shelter and games. But let’s be honest. These are no substitutes for a child being taken from their parents. You can sit them in front of a circus of dancing elephants and they will still cry for their mother and father. The president is cynically blaming Democrats, or saying he’s protecting the country from the drug cartel, or whatever sort of baloney he wants to embellish, but the truth is, and please, everyone can see this, the pre...

When I was a boy, I was loved by the sweetest women in the world. My Mom, of course, beautiful in every way was one. Smart, devoted, lovingly and fiercely protective of her family. But then also, on my Dad’s side, there was my grandmother, Maude, whom I called Nana. Quiet and reserved, small and lovely, she was a tender presence. By my Aunt Laura, who was fun and beautiful with a contagious laugh, generous and open-hearted. By my Aunt Mary, tiny and petite, poised and gracious. By Aunt Florida, snow white hair and the most winsome smile, a deeply self-confident woman. On my mother’s side, there was my grandmother, Ruby, whom I called Momo. Quite simply, a saint. I adored her. My great-grandmother, Joanna, whom I called Gammy. A gifted pianist, the first female American Indian graduate in the school of music at Bacone College. Her embrace was arms of love. And there were my Aunt Emerald and my Aunt Jackie, wonderful women of grace and affection. These women taught me never to b...

“When your mother asks, ‘Do you want a piece of advice?’ it's a mere formality. It doesn't matter if you answer yes or no. You're going to get it anyway.”  ~ Erma Bombeck This is an early Happy Mother’s Day wish to all of the moms I know and love. You are amazing women and loving mothers and I admire all of you. And I hope on Mother’s Day your family showers you with generous love and thoughtful gifts and warm embraces. My mom was a lot like Erma Bombeck’s quote. Ferris Bueller would never have gotten away with any of that stuff he pulled. Mom would have looked around the room, seen the pulley strings, and pulled back the covers. No. Ferris would have been toast. Mom wasn’t one to talk into staying home from school. You had to display signs of the Ebola virus or worse to get out of going to school. “Hop up, now,” she’d say. “You’ll feel better once you get dressed.” She was always right. She was as loving as she was tough. I never doubted that she was always and fo...

Guest Post By Heather Von St. James Courageous mother, wife, writer and cancer survivor My First Year of Motherhood and My Battle with Mesothelioma My first year of motherhood was an amazing prospect.  My friends and family reminded me that it would take a village to raise my child, but I had no idea just how true this was.  Neither did I realize just how important my village would become.   I gave birth to Lily on August 4, 2005.  The emergency C-section was the only complication of the entire pregnancy, but holding my daughter was worth it.  My own village quickly surrounded me, and things were wonderful.  I expected that my recovery from the C-section would be a little challenging, but when I returned to work two months later, I was still very fatigued.  I was also breathless and this really disturbed me.   I made an appointment with my doctor.  After a battery of tests, he found the problem.  A diagnosis of malignant pleu...

"This is what you shall do; Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward people, go freely with uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body." ~ Walt Whitman