Coral’s Healing Room at Coralsblog.com 505-269-9242 iwritetohealmyself@gmail.com I rise early. I go to bed early. If you need me, I will make myself available to you.

Today’s Challenge…go do one thing today, that is YOU…

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Good morning! My topic this morning came to me through a comment on my Facebook post, about finally being comfortable in my own skin…

A friend of mine, lost her husband unexpectedly a few days ago and she buried him two days ago…and so I first want to send she and her son all of my love.

I begin this morning, by asking you all to join me in sending them some love…to join me in sending our community and our world, some love…let’s visualize some serious love and healing, for us all.

I start with sending love, because love is why I am still here. Love has carried me through my darkest hours. When my Mom got sick and we asked for love and prayers…we were flooded with love…and prayers and more love…

Love is the answer, you know? For any question, Love is the answer. Look around at the mess we live in…where is the love? There’s your answer…Love is missing, from virtually everything, and the world we are living in deeply reflects that.

Death has a way of bringing out a lot of love, all at once and very quickly. Being is such a state, everything was kind of a blur…I fumbled through it and I don’t remember a lot of it…I believe I only have what I can handle and the rest comes, if and when it’s needed and only when I am ready to handle it.

I wasn’t ready to handle any of it…and yet, with lots of love, from so many places…we got through it.

I want to take a moment to thank every single person that helped me through the hardest time of my life. Maybe I have thanked you already and maybe I haven’t…I tried to reach everyone, to write thank you notes…to be appreciative…and I know I fell short, because I could not fucking breathe…I didn’t function at all well, so if I missed you, thank you Now…truly…thank you.

Death was very present in our home…a terminal cancer diagnosis, a hospital bed, round the clock and daily nursing and medical staff, in and out…oxygen tanks and chucks…ointments and bed pans and bedside toilets…walkers and lots of laundry…people coming in and out…and a feeling of the end being very, very near…it was a painful and somber and sad and heartbreaking…heart wrenching time for us…and it lasted only a few days. Mom was signed into hospice on Monday night, the hospital bed came Tuesday morning, and my Mom died at 12:06 pm on Thursday…

Nothing in the world prepared me for that moment, and yet, everything in the world, prepared me for that moment…I was holding my Moms hand when she opened her eyes, one last time, squeezed my hand, one last time, and her spirit soared, like I have never witnessed, out of that badly broken body of hers…

The crumbling, crashing, gnashing pain of it all…the mortuary, the viewing, the funeral and the reception…the services and the procession, behind the hearse, that carried my lifeless Mothers body to the cold hole in the ground, which was to be her final trip, in this life…and the graveside Service, where I remember not one word…only pain…lots and lots of soul crushing pain…

I can’t really describe the fog that I have been in, since her brain scan came up on the monitor, all lit up, like a fucking Christmas tree, at the ER. I asked what that was, because I look at X-rays for a living, so I already knew…lesions…can that be anything other than cancer…silence…and I hit the floor…and my world, in that moment, forever changed…

Aren’t we all forever changed by such a moment? A moment, that stands out, above all others…writing this, I was in those moments again….the helplessness and the sadness…the pain and despair…and did I say helplessness? What in the fuck do we do, when we are dealt a hand like that, out of nowhere?

We play some mother fucking cards…that is what we do, when we are dealt a hand like that. Whether we ever played cards before or not, and whether we were ready for another hand…for this hand…we play some fucking cards!

I do not play cards myself…on a few, very drunken instances, I have attempted to play cards…and I fucking suck…I don’t get it…it’s not my thing…whatever, I just never played poker…Momma tried to teach me…friends tried to teach me…I never took to it or learned very well…until my Mom was diagnosed, and I play cards like nobody’s fucking business!

Here is the great news! You too, will play some fucking cards, whether you have ever played cards or not, and whether you are any good or not…you will play, you will learn and you will grow exponentially…because that is what you have to do…you have to learn to master a game that you have never even heard of…you are playing a hand now, that only God himself could have dealt…and only God himself can help you play…

In my experience, my Mom sat next to me, and helped me with my hand…I was never alone, although I felt alone…sitting at a poker table, with no chips and someone else’s cards…my Mom threw in some chips and she helped me get my cards facing the same direction…and that is all I could do, for a very long time…just sit there looking at my cards…no fucking words…and no idea what the chips were for…

Very soon after my Mom died, she came back for a visit and she told me something, that I will share with all of you, because, eventually, it made sense and it changes everything for me…

My Mom said, “Honey, I want you to think of the good things that you can do, now that I am gone…that you wouldn’t or couldn’t do, while I was here. I love you baby girl, you go do you…”

I was so fucking pissed at her! Like…really? You say this to me now? What in the fuck is wrong with you? Fuck! Just fuck! Really, Mom? Really?

My Mother hated my piercings and my tattoos and almost all of my haircuts…and she didn’t hold back, she was pretty fucking clear…she was disgusted by how I chose to look…and now, it’s okay? I was fit to be fucking tied…how dare she give me permission to be me, after she fucking died…

And yesterday, I got it. I mean, I really, really got it…and I blogged about the haircut that I have wanted, all of my life, since I was in 6th grade, and I saw the Madison Mohawk on my school yearbook…

I researched and researched and then I sat quietly for a moment, with my own soul and I knew, I was going to go and do what I always wanted to do…I was going to go and get me that haircut, the haircut, that made me feel happy inside, since the first time I saw it, in sixth grade…and so I did…and I am fucking happy inside…because I finally look like me…The me I saw me as, in the midst of such horrific abuse, a little tiny Mohawk Warrior, named Coral…she came to life yesterday, after forty four years…Welcome home Coral! I fucking love you, you, large as life and tiny as hell, little Mohawk Warrior…

And you…and you…and you…and you…you are all bad ass little Warriors too…and I bet you’ve got a haircut or a pair of jeans…or a tattoo or a shirt or a blouse…or a hair color…or something risqué…that you haven’t worn on you, because of how someone else would feel about it, or maybe because someone would react badly or make fun of you…

Today is your day…one thing…just one thing…that you haven’t done, because of someone else, anyone else…living, not living…from your childhood, from yesterday…

One thing…that makes your skin a little more comfortable, your smile a little brighter…I encourage you to do one thing today, no matter how small…because this step, will be the first, on your journey into yourself…and this is the best step I have taken in so many years…a step towards Coral…welcome home Coral!

I touched on some hard stuff and so I release all of it back to the universe, in love and light and wisdom, for us all…to be recycled and returned for the greatest good of us all…Peace be the journey my friends and love, love, love…always love…