A Gift

Two years ago today, my friend died.  I miss her.  I miss her every day, and I know I will, for the rest of my life.  My heart still feels broken, just as it did 2 years ago.
But's that's love; keeping someone's memory alive for as long as you live.  I cannot properly express what Dagmar brought to my life, but my love for her is endless.
All of this?  It's OK.  It's OK to be sad and to grieve--I daresay it's as much a part of our life as any thing.
What's not OK is to stop living--that's a slap in the face to those who have died.  We owe it to them to keep living, to keep experiencing beauty and love and laughter and hugs...

Today, I went with Dagmar's mother to the cemetery.  As we walked and talked quietly, we heard a noise (I had heard this sound before at the Jasper-Pulaski Wildlife Area).  I looked around the ground, thinking a sandhill crane was somewhere nearby.  Then we looked up, and saw the formation--20 to 30 cranes, flying right over us.  They were calling to each other in a beautiful way.  As we watched in wonder, the formation turned and circled us twice, then flew on.
What a gift.  What an incredible gift we were given.  We savored it.
When I came home, I did some research, and this, in part, is what I found:

"When a crane comes into your life as a spirit teacher or totem you are being asked to use your past as a source of strength in the present.

Cranes appear in the lives of people who are well served by some degree of secrecy in their lives. The crane teaches keeping your own counsel,protection of family, and balance in life above all else.

An encounter with a crane is a powerful experience. You are being asked to look inward, show fairness to all persons, and protect your wisdom while sharing it in appropriate ways. In short, you are being shown the way to balance and good fortune."

Whether you are mourning for Dagmar or for another, I ask you keep yourself open.  Yes, grief hurts, and the natural instinct is to close yourself off, to keep yourself from being hurt again.  But by keeping yourself open, you allow yourself to receive gifts.  Many incredible gifts.

Like sandhill cranes.  

In Which I Imitate Paul Harvey....

Well, not really, because Paul Harvey tended to bother the heck out of me, but I couldn't think of any better way to begin this post but to say....
"And here's the rest of the story"....

If you are an NPR listener (maybe you heard it somewhere else), you may have caught this story this morning:
"Scientists Say Baby Born with HIV Apparently Cured"
It was such good news, that I woke from my post-alarm stupor to hear it all:   A toddler, who was born with HIV, now does not have the virus in her system!  Who wouldn't be happy about that?
But as I listened, intrigued by the circumstances, one sentence seemed louder than all the rest....
And here's the rest of the story....
"In the Mississippi case, the mother had had no prenatal care when she came to a rural emergency room in advanced labor." (Emphasis mine).  I will let that sink in for a moment.  
The mother had had no prenatal care.  
"Oh sure," you might say, "that happens all the time."  Really?  Does it?  ALL the time?  
Not in most developed countries.  
Except maybe in the United States.  (Cue patriotic music, because "God Bless America" after all).
The mother, who was unlucky enough to live in Mississippi, did not have prenatal care.  To be fair, maybe she was in denial about the pregnancy; didn't care.  
But more likely, she couldn't find a clinic or couldn't afford one.  Because Mississippi's Republican-controlled government is making it nearly impossible for women to find clinics, let alone ones they can afford.  Because. They. Can.
They are on a mission....
Lt. Governor Tate Reeves proudly declares, "These are strong, common-sense pro-life bills that will not only end abortion in Mississippi but will enhance efforts to protect children from abuse. I appreciate the hard work by these senators to shape laws that make Mississippi an even safer place for children.” 
Except it doesn't end abortion.  It just makes it harder for Mississippi women to get them.  And sadly, the bills do nothing to protect children.  It just makes it harder for poor families to find good health care for the parents, and allows things to happen like a baby, born with HIV, to "fall through the cracks" for months at a time.
Fortunately, this story had a happy ending.  I hope it's the first of many HIV stories with a happy ending.  
But we're not hearing the rest of the story.  And in not hearing it, we are ignoring the very real possibility that other states will follow Mississippi's lead.  And women will lose not only access to health care, but will lose their lives.
And that's the rest of the story.