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Head office…

August 21, 2011

She remembered Mamo helping her to keep her voice close;

she remembered how she’d been trained at school,

to hold her words before letting them out…

But this was different…

Something else—

not words—

was locked inside her…

Locked inside that tight closed place…

— in Deafening by Frances Itani

Last week sometime,

I woke from a dream,

where I had been,

in the first stages of labour…

I could feel my body,


and the words,

You’re doing great,

and then EVERYTHING,

went black…

When I came to,

in the dream,

I asked the person,

in the room,

Where’s my baby???

And I heard,

with all the knowledge,

and authority,

in the world,

WE did what we thought was best…

I didn’t know what was meant,

by that,

but the baby,

I’d held,

in my womb,

was not delivered,

by me,

or to me,

and this corroborated,

a sense,

of being robbed,

of experience,

for another’s convenience,

and me wandering,

through the shared grief,

of women,


from the nursery,

for whatever reason,

empty handed…

The thing about pain,

and doing what is best,

to medicate,

and evaporate,

other people,

out of their own experiences,

in the name of control,

is that pain doesn’t go away…

It goes underground,

and ethereal,

until it’s been felt,

by all,

parties involved…

And some of us,

in the constellation,

choose to develop,

our capacity,

to open ourselves up,

to feeling,

a lot more of it,

for the good of the whole,

because we want,

a brighter picture,

for everyone…

The next day,

after the dream,

I was napping,

on the grass,

in the afternoon sun,

of Douglas Park,

while Little Gem,

and Starshine,

battled it out,

over badminton…

Starshine’s voice,

woke me,




Someone is here,

to see you…

I opened my eyes,

and turned my head,

to find,

a tiny,

blond haired,

blue eyed,


with Down’s Syndrome,

in a canary yellow,

bathing suit,


right at my side…

She put up a juicy hand,

with a sweet smile,

and chirped,


Then she turned around,

and walked down the hill,

all the way back,

to the playground..

Little Gem said,

I think she must be adopted,

or with a babysitter,

because she doesn’t look like,

the woman she’s with…

You can tell a lot,

from the way,

people talk,

about their children,

and when I went over,

to introduce myself,

to the Hispanic mother,

of the messenger,

she said,

I couldn’t believe it…

I told my friend,

Look at MY BABY!!!

She’s walking all the way,

up that hill,

and waking up,

that woman…

I was worried,


was bothering you…

I rubbed my finger,

on a little cheek,

and said,

Thank you,

for your whisper,

and having the courage,

to say it loud enough,

for all of us,

to hear…

A few moments later,

as Little Gem and I walked,

hand in hand,

to buy mushrooms,

for hamburgers,

at Choices,

she said to me,

I know,

that no matter what,

you would never ever,

give me away…

And if someone took me,

you’d do ANYTHING,

no matter how long it took,

to find me again…

You make me believe...

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