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

What my CPTDS is to me…Why the doggie in the room?

Good morning everyone! Lucky day for us all to learn something, as I’m in a PTSD spin and can’t get out. For me…for Tamara..for you…for the unknowing passerby…I am going to attempt to blog from this space this morning to help you to understand me and those with this diagnosis.


This is a hard fucking write and I imagine it will be a hard read also. Take what you need and leave the rest. I love you. Have a beautiful day!

The C is for complex. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Agent Orange. Vietnam. Desert Storm. 911. All PTSD. Multiple tours in Iraq…EMS and Fire responders…Sexual abuse and incest survivors. You. Me. We have been so egregiously harmed. We have so egregiously harmed. The complex in my PTSD diagnosis is because of the repetitive and unrelenting nature…the family dynamics…I am a triple diagnosed C-PTSD incest survivor.  Did not ever get a break from the abuse, like coming home from a war. I had to stay at war to survive. I still have not come out of fight or flight. I am still at mother fucking war. Every PTSD attack is like the same fucking war. Rest and digest…ya…never…not even now…because the war is in full on battle. Choosing to leave this battleground does not come without its costs. This war waged upon me at one time is now a fucking battle that is only in my mind and only with myself. You witness this in my attacks. The dog in the room and it’s over for me. Why? You don’t want to know. You ask and you won’t be able not to know. You ask again. And again. Why are you as you are with your dogs? Why do you want them near you and push them away when they come to you? Why don’t you love them the way I love my dogs? Why? Why would you surrender Nicholas? Why do you even have dogs? Why is your service dog, Taos, not with you? Why? Why do you put your dogs in crates? Why are you as you are with your dogs Coral?

I am as I am with my dogs, the dearest creatures to my very soul and existence, because as long as I can remember, I have been taught to treat animals as less than human beings. Dogs have no place inside our house. They are animals and we are people. People live inside and animals live outside. Dogs are a nuisance and they are nasty and they don’t belong. I was younger and I didn’t know then what I have come to know. I was one of them. I was in belief of the things I witnessed and was taught. Some of those beliefs hang on tighter than others as I struggle to shake them away. I was forced to intoxicate dogs. I was then forced to jump on the trampoline with them, intoxicated myself. I remember the vodka or gin I was made to pour in the water bowl. I remember my soul dying and tears welling up in my throat. Threatened with my own life if I cried or showed emotion, I began to laugh loudly, to cover and muffle the tears in my throat so that they not dare show through my eyes. “Make sure he drinks it all. You drink yours and I’ll get you another. Put that soccer ball away. You aren’t good enough to make the team anyway, and wouldn’t you rather be doing this than practicing all of the time anyway? If you were good enough, like the girl you love so fucking much, you wouldn’t have to practice all the fucking time, would you? Now get that dog and get your ass on that trampoline. Now. Coral. NOW, and I don’t want to see you crying like a baby. God damnit. Do I have to put him up there? Jump! Coral. Fucking jump. You start jumping or I’m coming up there. Do you hear me?” And the world went black and I jumped. And she yelled and I jumped. My soul died and surrendered and I jumped some more. I jumped and I jumped. I saw his face hit the springs. I saw him struggle and his eyes beg me to stop. I heard his cries as they echoed the cries of being my very soul, as I finally collapsed and fell to the springs myself. I don’t remember his name. He may have been a her. I don’t think he made it because I do not ever remember seeing him again. My soul shrieks now, recounting and sharing this with you. I could lose all of my clients over this. I can never tell.

Why do I freak out at the dog in the room you ask? I go somewhere else. I see and hear and think and feel and know another time and another place. Distant and yet so close, and all at the same time. Out of body. Only my soul with that dog in the room…the dog that I do not even deserve to look at for one fucking minute. Why Coral would you put your dogs in crates? I can either put them in there or me in there to keep us all sane while I try to dodge the land mines of my past, to reach the other side, safely for us all. “Coral, why don’t you love Taos? Baby Taos is the best dog ever.” First of all…Baby Taos is the best dog ever and I love Baby Taos with my very soul. You see, Baby Taos is Sam. Sam got treated how Momma Coral sometimes treats Baby Taos…with contempt and erupting anger for seemingly no reason at all. Baby Taos is Baby Coral and so sometimes we can’t be together as much as we would like to. You may not get it and that is okay because Baby Taos does get it and she loves me just the Sam.

A long time ago and just moments ago, the doggie in the kennel in the corner of the room didn’t trigger me at all and I was so happy to go and bring her out to be with me. The kisses she bestows on me and the tears she licks away. With her or without her, she is with me every day. My soul screams for her and my spirit will not rest. Not until I try my hardest and can say that I have truly done my best. Because I’ve no idea what the corner brings and no idea how I may react, we sometimes keep our dogs in kennels, to keep us all intact. Tamara didn’t come from here and she’s the one who asks the most…when will you be better so we can all become close? You’ve no idea how I pray for it or to what lengths I will go. You see the little doggie on the trampoline, she took me with her soul. I cry for her and I miss him and I cannot even recall a name. A boy or a girl I cannot remember, my soul knows him the same. He was white with a black spot or two…maybe his name was Jack? I will never know for sure, but I cannot give him his life back. So the doggie in the kennel and Taos deprived of momma Coral kisses…prayers for every second and any love that she misses. For Taos is momma Coral in a different time and space. Sometimes when I get lost, I only see another doggies face. A doggie I sent to Heaven long before his time. I was forced to choose his life or me and I chose mine. I do not have regrets as it got me here to tell you this. But God damnit I would give my life if I could only give him one more kiss. The doggie in the kennel and Coral in a little heap upon the floor. I will fight this battle I am fighting until it’s not a battle anymore. For the love of baby Taos and any feelings I have hurt. For Aliah and Rocky and Momma Tamara…all I can say is I hope I am worth…all the trouble I have caused and the hell that I am in. With your love I’m coming out and I beg you not to push me back in. So the doggies in the kennels that you may not understand is the hope for my beginning and my means to an end. To end a war that I have been fighting for every moment of my life…please God if it’s your will, may I sometime have my life? A life not built on torture and trauma of the worst kind. A life abundant and content…a life that I can call mine. With baby Taos and baby Prajna in tow at all times, with Rocky and Aliah and the bears following behind. I see Ali aging and I’ve wanted so much time. You’ve no idea how that kills me and how hard that I try.

Anyway…I am headed to clients, if I still have any after this. Either they will call and book me for an extra appointment because I am only able to do my work so well because of all of this…or I am about to get fired Apprentice style. Either way, I speak my truth to heal us all, as we hold hands and walk each other home. I love you. Have a beautiful day as we take what we need from this and send the rest back to the universe for the greater good of us all. And so it is.

Medical Update: They are going back in ASAP…

Good Friday evening everyone. I write this evening to update you on my medical situation. I thank you for your love. They will be going back in to do exploratory surgery as soon as possible.

I saw my PCP this morning and MRI Imaging indicates there is a small amount of free fluid throughout the pelvis. There are no focal collections to suggest abscess. There is no abnormal enhancement. The fluid is the concern in that.

So, the worsening pain and the chills and the fever…there is no clear indication as to what is causing it. The MRI ordered was for abdominal and pelvic imaging. My insurance kicked it back as Pelvic only and did not approve abdominal MRI imaging. My PCP resubmitted for abdominal MRI today and just referred me for general surgery to go back in and do exploratory surgery to find the cause of the pain. The referral for the surgery was put in urgently and when she asked if I could go in for surgery today if necessary. I said I could. I imagine it’s safe to say that I won’t hear back until Monday on that, as t is the weekend, and so pain meds have been increased to manage the pain until they get me in for exploratory surgery.

I think the shock of all of that is wearing off a bit. I mean, I am so thankful that enough was found to pursue finding out what is wrong. I am beyond thankful for my PCP and her amazing staff who listens to me and believes me and who gives a shit about me as a human being, and who is fighting with insurance and scheduling and me, to get me well. I Fucking love those ladies…all three of them, for how they have loved me and treated me with kindness and respect….for how they laughed with me and cried with me through all of this, because laughing is the only fucking way I am coping. It certainly is not funny at all to me that my six weeks of down time has turned into this and my recovery time is set back. I laugh and I cry, a lot.

Tamara is loving me through this and hurting like hell with me through this and keeping everyone happy and everything here in motion. I am immeasurably blessed by the wonder that is my partner, my best friend and my confidant. I am so sorry we are going through all of this pain and unrest. We’ve got this and I know that. Thank you for reminding Sam sometimes though, because on days like today, when they say they have to cut me again and put me to sleep again, and I have to trust someone so much with my body again…I cannot even fucking see straight. I am sorry Sam is taking over a bit while Coral absorbs the intensity of the day, the reality of another surgery and the fear she won’t let creep in….all while being so painfully reminded again that her Mom is dead.  Sam is the only one you’ll see tonight I’m afraid. I’m sorry for that. I really, really am.

My friends surrounded me today and I feel each of you and the energy of all of you surrounding me. Thank you for your love and for your prayers and your faith in my healing.

I love you Sigrid. I thank you for giving me courage and strength today to accept what must be to get me better. Thank you for taking the time out of your life to love me through some hard stuff this morning, and always.

Thank you for the amazing lunch date my friend. It was wonderful to see you and to catch up with you today! I love you  so much and I am so grateful for you and for our friendship, for who you are and how you love. Our friendship is priceless to me and I thank you so much for taking the time today and buying me lunch in the middle of all of this. Thank you for listening to me and thank you for loving me through. I love you!

So…they are going back in. Not today apparently, so I am going to go spend some quiet time with myself and my feelings and my thoughts and I am going to do what I must do to come out of this room with my head up and my heart open, to spend some time with my family before I start my new pain meds and pray for restful and rejuvenating sleep. A childhood prayer comes to mind…”If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lotd my soul to take”…or something like that…anyway, I’ve no idea why it just crossed my mind. Kind of creepy that kids prayer though…now that I think of it. Ya, off how that just hit me…anyway, enough about me for tonight. I just wanted to let those of you wondering about my medical situation, where we are at. We are going back in.

Thank you for prayers answered today, to find enough to move forward to finding the source of my pain. I am thankful. I am grateful. I am blessed. And I am D and FD on this night. Have a beautiful evening. They are going back in and this girl is going out…a bit much reality for me today…I love you. Goodnight.

Please love me through this. I am crushed and need your Love please…

Good morning everyone. I am having some post op concerns and complications, and so I am headed to the doctor this morning. I have struggled a lot and I am worn the fuck out. My pain is off the charts, same as it was, before I went into surgery. Pelvic pain, my reason for going in, was not addressed while I was under anesthesia. I will suffice to say that I am a fucking basket case. I cannot distinguish between my physical and my emotional pain right now, as they are both off of the fucking charts.

Countless things happened from the time I checked in to have my surgery and continue to fuck with my psyche. This experience, void of all Humanity, has put a girl down finally. This girl is finally down.

I try not to come to you for love and prayers unless it is fairly emergent. This is definitely an emergency. If you would, please send me all of your love and prayers, good vibes and strength, as I go to my PCP this morning to try to get some relief and to forge forward on a new and brighter path.

Please send me strength to hold Sam with all of my heart, through the horror of this. Please pray that I can find my grown up words and ask questions that will yield answers for my healing and highest good. Please send my doctor what she needs to connect with me and communicate with me as I struggle to spit this out and make sense of it all, so that we can find a solution together.

Today, more than I’ve needed it before, I ask you for your strength to adult through a situation in full blown Sam. I ask you for all of your love and I ask you to pray for my healing.

I am going to go and get dressed and I’m going to show up. I am going to do my very best, to navigate a path I’ve never been on, in full blown child ego state, so, so sad and so very scared. Please love me through this. I need you to love me through this please.

Hey, I love you and I thank you for being here with me. I really, really do love you and thank you.

How do we fill in the space that is our dash?


Good morning! I slept in a bit this morning, and it’s actuallly light outside when I make my way to my office.

Thank you for being here! I made a commitment to myself in December to blog every single day for 365 days. I am so glad I did. There has definitely been some release, as I purge what no longer serves me. I write to heal myself and I know that some of what I write must be pretty difficult to read. Thank you for staying with me and for your love and support as I navigate this terrain. Thank you for providing space as I open up. Thank you for your love on the days that I am so weak I can barely stand upright. Thank you for your faith in me. Thank you for the strength you give me with your own stories of bravery and courage. Thank you for loving me like a verb. Thank you for reading my blog and for being a part of my life.

I cannot begin to tell you how happy I am that we have made it through Mother’s Day and all of the days that preceded it from October 1st on. I will not live like this anymore. I just won’t fucking do it. This year, I will be celebrating the holidays and enjoying the festivities with my beautiful girl. Today, I peek through the tiny sliver of light at the bottom of the door, where the light enters, and I head in that direction. The crack, says Rumi, is where the light enters us. Let that light shine baby! Let that light illuminate my life and ignite my soul.

Not consciously and not on purpose, I have dedicated the greater part of the last two years to grieving the loss of my Mother. I went to the cemetery yesterday and I realized, differently than before, that my Mom is not there. My Dad is not there with me visiting my Mom who isn’t there anymore either. The sad had an extra layer of sad and the emptiness was breathtaking. The pain ripping and stabbing and gouging my heart as I stood over that fucking grave.

I sat down in front of my Moms headstone with Pranja yesterday and I just stared at that picture, at those words…at that dash. I didn’t cry. I just fucking sat there completely catatonic, pretty lifeless myself. Pranja in her pretty little dress, sitting patiently on Sherry’s side, waiting for me to pick myself back up. I always do you know, get back up. Having Pranja there reminded me why I get back up. You get back up to, don’t you? We get back up. We fall. We rise. We ebb. We flow. We learn and we grow.

Life is for the living and my own dash is looking pretty bleak, if I don’t start living some life in between that birth date and the space awaiting my death date. I better start filling in that dash before my time runs out.

My birth wasn’t an easy one. I needed help to come in. They used salad tongs to pull me out. I couldn’t breathe on my own and was put into an oxygen tent. I don’t know much else. All of my baby pictures, I look so happy…little Sam, clapping her tiny hands, with those huge sparkling eyes…what a beautiful baby girl was Sam! You can look at any of hiss pictures and see that Sam is a fighter…a lover and a fighter. I spite of all things, that little soul has always been on fire! Often down to barely burning embers, smoldering and nearly stamped out…the life force has always been stronger. Sam’s favorite book in the whole world growing up was “The Little Engine That Could”…I think I can…I think I can…

We will not stay smoldering in these embers. We will not drift away in an anonymous cloud of smoke. We will rise from these ashes. We will emerge from this rubble. We will breathe on our own. We will push our way through and we will persevere. We were born to do great things and we are ascending to great heights. We can now because we thought we could all along. We will not lie down and die in this heaping, smoldering and fading with the daylight pile of pain. We will rise the fuck up and we will shake it all off and we will walk out of this, with our sparkle back. We rise up.

We are all filling in our own dashes, between our date of birth and the blank space that awaits our death date. We all are our own dash. We get to decide what goes in between. Maybe not before today…starting today though, we get to decide what our dash looks like. We get to fill that in however we want to. How are you living your dash?

Every moment here, doing everything I’ve done, has prepared me for what is coming next, and I am so grateful! I have not treaded lightly. I have been a tornado, a tsunami at times…crashing here and there. I have been an earthquake and the cracks and craters run deep. I have been the sunshine and I’ve illuminated some rooms. I have been rain and I have cleansed and flooded, ebbed and flowed. I have been the drought and I have nearly died from my unquenched thirst, simply because I sought drink outside myself. I have been the sunrise and the sunset…the alpha and the omega. I have lives the seasons and I have weathered winter storms that took places completely off the map. I am, now, the beginning. I am, now, the sunrise. I am beginning MY story now.

For all that I am not, there is much that I am. For all that you are not, there is much that you are. For all that you haven’t been, forgive yourself. For all that you are, celebrate yourself. For all that you’re becoming…for all that I’m becoming, for all that we are all becoming…our dash…our beautiful, bursting, love overflowing dashes…we get to decide and we get to choose what fills the space in between.

Have a beautiful Tuesday everyone. I’ve got to dash!


The beginning of Consciousness…a thank you to my pack!


7FEEEACF-21A5-4B6C-99B4-79497BD50F80.jpegGood morning everyone! Blogging with Pranja this morning. Pranja just had her second poop since she came home and we are elated!!!  Prajna’s swelling is coming down and her spirit is coming up, and we couldn’t be more blessed to have been rescued by Pranja.

Pranja…the beginning of consciousness. What exactly does that mean? We are definitely on time. Pranja’s very presence in my life has shifted my consciousness a great deal. Who am I? Who do I see myself as? The beginning of consciousness for me… I’m changing the way I look at things and watching the things I look at change.

My Dad and Cheryll are married and off honeymooning together. We had a nice afternoon at the Sanctuary before they took off on their trip. Seeing my Dad with someone else is different and a little unsettling…I’ve never seen him with anyone besides my Mom before. Seeing them happy together, is truly all I want for him. This has been a long and painful journey for me, navigating through the loss of my Mom and the loss of my Dad, on some level too. It really is what it is and I am feeling better coming out the other side a bit wiser. My Dad has a second chance at happiness and I couldn’t be happier for my Dad. Thank you all for your place in this difficult journey with me. Many of you have literally picked me up off of the floor in this transition…thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

My health issues are being addressed and I have appointments scheduled. Everything that has come back so far appears to be normal. I am awaiting biopsy results, as my consult was rescheduled. A week from Friday, I will get results on my colonoscopy and my endoscopy. On the same day, I go in for my pre-op appointment for my hysterectomy. My primary is out of town until the end of the month and I will schedule with her when she gets back. My pain is manageable most days. Although ever present, I am finding ways to live around it. I am looking so forward to some rest and reprieve from the pain. I truly do want to thank each and every one of you for all of your love and prayers, for your texts and phone calls. I believe in the good things coming!

I also want to take a moment to thank Nahko. I also want to thank my Brother and my Sister…Ohana…who introduced me to Nahko. I cannot even begin to tell you how being introduced to Nahko’s music and meeting Nahko in Denver over New Years has changed me and grown me and lovingly supported me, through the most difficult days of my life. I love you Nahko and I hope to hang out with you someday. I mean, I hang out with you every day. Surrounded by your words constantly and inspired by the way you string your words together, by your real and honest account of your life and your experiences. As I write, I often see your words in my writing, as they have doused my very soul with inspiration for my own words. Your words give me strength for my journey Nahko. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Sam, you have no idea how amazed and inspired I am by you! Truly, I have no words for how humbling it is to watch you come to life and speak your truth. I watch you transition the horror of your abuse into a healing room for us all. I love you Sam and I want you to know that I will always love you, no matter who or what.

Sigrid…no words my friend, for how happy I am that we are back in each other’s lives. I missed you while we were away and I know we are never really away. Our weekly tea has given me a place to be with Sam and to be whole. Our time together inspires me to continue my work in the world, especially when it hurts the most. I love you Sigrid. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

To my dear, dear friend of over 20 years, thank you for making calls and referrals on my behalf. Thank you for being my liaison and my contact through all of this. Thank you for using your gifts to help me to be happy and well and whole again. The night of silence, next to a campfire at church camp, all of those years ago, Embraced in a hug with you…for me, began an amazing journey of the truest and deepest friendship, and I am so blessed that you are in my life. I love you sister. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

To my therapist…you just have no idea how you have saved me and how you have helped me to learn to save myself. All of these years with you have given me a foundation for my healing and my growth. I know you’re got a best seller in my client notes…a fucking doozie for sure! Thank you for allowing me to use my words, my favorite word…whatever words I need to get it all out. I love you and I am so appreciative of all you do for me. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Baby Taos…I know that being my service dog is a challenge. I know that I am hard to read and often hard to please. I know you’ve been unable to do your job, as I have tried to protect you from my pain by keeping us separate. Thank you for your patience as I learn to navigate my world. Thank you Baby Taos, for waiting for me to catch up, and I will catch up. You are my heart and I love you.  Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Aliah…where do I even start? We have had some rough patches, haven’t we? Thank you for your patience with me and for your push…you know the one I fucking hated…to open up a bit. Thank you for playing boxer with me and for even letting me win sometimes. Thank you for loving me when I was unlovable and for holding space for me when I pushed you out of my space. I love you my little ghost face tacolita! Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. little seemeow…I do aspire to be like you…to live my life large and without boundaries, to speak when I’ve something to say, to get up to wherever I need to get for the best view…to sleep whenever and wherever I want to. I aspire to have your voice and your tenaciousness. I imagine that is why we bump heads sometimes…you are who I aspire to be in a lot of ways. I love you Karma kitty. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Rocky…rocket man, Okja…you have no idea how you touch and inspire me every day my friend. Having been so unable for so long, to re-enter my own life after being badly battered…I defer to you and Pranja for strength and inspiration. I have never met another dog like you Rockadoodle. Losing a leg didn’t slow you down at all and your resilience inspires me to drawn upon my own. Thank you for being willing to be my service dog, even though you needed a service person. I live you Rocky, so, so much. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Pranja…sitting here with you, pulling heat out of your eye socket and having to take a lot of breaks because it hurts your eye and your heart…brings me to my fucking knees. While I am down here, I want to thank God and Tamara for you. I could never have known what a four pound chihuahua could do for my soul. I am humbled sitting next to you, sleeping with you curled up on my chest and in the pappose around my neck. Pranja, you truly are the beginning of the shift in my consciousness. I love you so much and I am honored that you chose to come her with us to be, forever home. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

To all of our amazing and beautiful and healing babies here at Santuario de Karuna, thank you for holding spacefoe Me. Thank you for forgiving my absence. I am ready to come back home. Thank you for loving me through the hard stuff and waiting for me to come share the good stuff. I believe in the good things coming! Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Tamara…no matter how I try, I never have words big or strong or deep enough to convey to you how much I love you. You and I have been on a difficult journey since we met. Losing Mom and all that has brought upon us…loss like that destroys relationships. I know that we can see how that could happen, and yet, we have done everything to ensure that it does not happen to us. I am so grateful that you never gave up on me. I am so thankful that you wanted to meet Sam, instead of leaving me because I am trying to meet Sam. I thank you for being my home, my forever and my strength. I thank you for carrying me when I couldn’t walk. I thank you for loving me when I didn’t know how to love me. I do love you, more than anyone or anything in this world and I thank God for you, every single day. Tamara, I love you, to the moon and back a million times. Thank you for loving me too, no matter what. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

To each of you…thank you. Thank you. Thank you. For all of the prayers…for all of the love…for all of the texts and calls and hugs…for being here with me and for loving me, no matter what, thank you. I love you all right back.

I want to send some love to Tamara and her family today…I would like to ask for prayers going up and God will know what those prayers are for. Maybe we could all take a moment of silence this morning and send all of your love and prayers to Tamara and her family…it would mean a great deal to me.

Have a beautiful day everyone! I love you!

The healing train just rolling in…All aboard!


Happy Sunday morning everyone! I am writing my morning blog with Pranja. I cannot believe how much I love her…how much I feel her and understand her and want her to be well. Prajna’s resilience, like her Brother Rocky is something to behold.

Tamara and I are so blessed. We have no doubt about that. Stepping into action and walking each other home…I’ll just say that every single being, here with us, has blessed us far more than we could ever bless them. Every time we open our hearts to someone in need, someone discarded or thrown away, we are reminded exactly why we are here in the first place. We are reminded how blessed we are to be stewards of this land and guardian to Gods most special creatures. Pranja is, as they all are to us, one of the greats!

Nestled in her little pink baby blanket, with her head on my lap and cozied in my chair beside me, is one of God’s greatest gifts. No longer alone and scared and injured on the streets, Pranja is home! Welcome home Prajna!

I know that we have touched on some difficult and personal issuesas of late. My health issues have me running all over the place to this appointment and that appointment and to put it mildly, I am discombobulated and running on empty. I am transitioning from fear to acceptance and I am learning as I go. Fear has encapsulated me and had its way with me for my entire life. Fear is a liar, right sister?

I am not afraid anymore. I am not running scared and keeping my mouth shut. I am not completely paralyzed and trying to keep secrets. I am not a victim. I am a survivor.

My abuser has always called me a liar, when she wasn’t gloating about what she did. My abuser apparently still calls me a liar and you know what, I’m okay with that. I buried her a long time ago, long before I buried my Mom, I buried her Sister and so did she. I am not a liar. The fear that controlled me and the fear that took over my life, as a result of  her actions…those are the liars. Fear is a liar. My abuser, she is a liar. I am not a liar. I am rising from the ashes and the rubble of my life…I am grabbing Sam and I am getting the fuck out if here!

Everything about this place is as it always was…stale and empty…dark and isolating…fight or flight…blurry visions of fragmented pieces of memories…nothing changed since I was there last…except for me…I have changed. Sam is changing. We don’t need your validation as our abusers. We do not need your permission to speak and you no longer have editing rights on our content. We don’t need or care about your approval or your disapproval. We do not give one shit, two shits, red shits or blue shits what you think about us, what you every thought about us. We are not here to engage you or to listen to you. We don’t fear you. We feel sorry for you, swimming around in the bottom of your whiskey bottles and beer cans…and completely unaware that you are a hurt people, who has hurt people, who is still hurting people, with your ignorance and your denial.

I do often wonder why people call incest survivors and child abuse survivors liars? If I was going to lie about anything, it sure as fuck would not be so humiliating and demeaning and soul crushing to me. If I were going to lie, I can assure you that it would not be about being an incest survivor. Think about that for a second and let it sink in…who would lie about something like that? Who even has the courage to say the fucking word “incest”, let alone, tattoo it on their own fucking forehead? Hi, my name is Coral and I am an incest survivor. I am not a liar. I am here to heal, and anyone who wants to heal to is welcome to join me!

It has also been suggested that I may be lesbian because of my abuse and I would like to quickly address that also. Are you fucking kidding me? Given the nature of my abuse, I would be more heterosexual and just as astonishing as the Virgin Mary, wouldn’t you think? Sexual abuse at the hands of a female did not make me a lesbian and it also did not make me straight. These are not choices that we get to make…I am a lesbian, because that’s the way God made me. I have been confused in my sexuality by the constant torment and torture, during my most formative years, not because I’m confused as to who I love or how I feel. I don’t even label myself lesbian…I love who I love. I always have and I always will and it really is that simple.

If you can’t find your way to believe me…the good news is that I don’t need you to believe me and I don’t care if you believe me or not. I really don’t. You could probably validate my claims through my medical records, my long term therapist, through my sexual partners, through anyone who has ever been present during one of my blackouts or my nights of over consumption. I am not here to argue about what happened to me. I am here to heal for once and for all…I write, to get it all out. Ironically, none of this is about you…it’s really, really not about you. All of this, this is about me and Sam…Sam and I…Sam I am. I don’t owe you a thing, Sam though…Pranja and Sidney and Tombstone…anyone else surviving the horrors of incest, rape, physical, emotional and sexual abuse, being thrown away after you were all used up…I owe us all my loyalty and my due diligence to do what is right…to speak…to heal…and most of all, to put all of this behind me where it belongs.

Sitting here with Pranja, watching her tiny 4 pound body twitch during a nightmare. Seeing her Vulva literally drag the ground as she sits down…and watching her learn to focus with only one eye…and feeling my own deep pain, I am reminded why I am here. I am here to heal. As I watch Sam walk around with Pranja, barely willing to set her down, I have no doubt why I am here. Sam couldn’t protect Sam and nobody else protected Sam. Nobody protected Pranja either, and Sam, she is going to protect Pranja. Tamara and Coral, they are going to protect Pranja. Rocky and Aliah and Baby Taos…they are going to love and protect Pranja too.

Blessed with a forgiving heart and a lot of love in my heart…an ability to articulate my thoughts and feelings, the most amazing partner or the planet…with Prajna resting safely  upon my chest and Taos by my side…I begin taking huge strides in my healing journey! I hope you will join me on the healing train. She is pulling into the station now…All aboard! Let’s do some healing together, shall we?

My lowest lows are making way for my highest highs…


Good morning everyone! Happy Saturday!  I am writing with Pranja this morning. I cannot even begin to describe the emotions I have gone through in the last 20 hours or so. I am going to try though, as it has been so powerful and life altering for me.

I had a doctors appointment yesterday morning and while I was waiting, I sent our friend a message to see if I could drop by and do some Reiki and lymphatic work on Iris. Iris was found on the streets, in heat and with her eye literally hanging out of the socket. Our friend came to the rescue and began the process of getting her mended.

Between the message about dropping in to give Iris a treatment and me arriving at the vet, my doctors appointment rescheduled and Pranja, formerly named Iris, was in a pappose across my chest hopping up into the FJ for her freedom ride home. Pranja is home with Tamara and I and we hit the fucking lottery!

I cannot begin to put into words just how much I love Pranja and how  I feel her. My heart has been flipping between breaking and rejoicing for the last 20 hours. I look deeply into her eye and I see and begin to really know my own soul.

Our first stop was to go and meet up with Momma Tamara. Momma Tamara and I have been watching her story from the beginning. There was such beauty to behold the moment Momma Tamara laid her eyes on Pranja…all of that love flowing out with those tears…the release of al of that held emotion, the gratitude for prayers answered, that Pranja would find the best forever home ever. We all came home yesterday in that moment. We all had a freedom ride of sorts, as we laid our hearts and our eyes on one another in those first moments of our new life together. We are so blessed and we are so grateful and we are so committed to making the rest of Prajna’s life, the very best of her life.

I have been flailing and hurting lately. I feel attacked a lot and under siege a lot lately. I have been feeling bruised and battered…hopeless and helpless and worried. Sam and I have been stuck in that battered and tormented and tortured and broken little body of ours, unable to break free of its confines, until yesterday. Yesterday, when I took Pranja in my arms, I could never have imagined the love that would wash over me, the emotions and the gratitude that would flood me. On Prajna’s freedom ride yesterday, I began my journey, my freedom ride too!

Next stop…Aiden! Of course she would have to meet Aiden and of course, Aiden would have to meet her. Aiden will never leave her side. Aiden crawled between Tamara and I in the bed last night and curled himself around Prajna, and off to dreamland she went. Off to dreamland we all went. Taos by my side and Pranja on my chest…my girl on my other side and cozy in our bed, I believe we all came home a bit yesterday.

I won’t lie, I have always had big dogs. I have actually said that people should choose a cat or a dog…and not a cat dog. My ignorance still astounds me, and I stand corrected. Meeting Aiden shifted every perception I ever had of little dogs. Aiden is the biggest dog, with the biggest spirit I have ever met, in a four pound body.  My last 20 hours with Pranja has only reinforced what Aiden has been teaching me…the greatest souls come in the tiniest and most crumpled up packaging. Pranja and Aiden…four pound power packs to inspire and rejuvenate us all.

I just don’t want to put Pranja down. I want her to know that she is safe and that Tamara and I will keep her safe always. I want her fear to subside and her little body to heal and I want her to feel the safety of being home, safety I am just learning to feel myself.

As I face my own demons and learn more about the things that happened to Sam, I vow with all that I am to keep Pranja safe, to keep Taos and Aliah and Rocky safe. I feel myself in each of them and each of them in me. We are safe and we are home and Tamara and I promise that the rest of all of their lives will be the best of their lives.

Pranja does not have to take one more step in this world without her protectors. Pranja doesn’t have to spend one more night alone and scared and cold…raped over and over and over again. Pranja is safe now. Pranja is home.

I have no doubt that Aiden had a huge role in bringing Pranja to us. Aiden saw a need and he set out to fill a gaping hole. Aiden was a foster, for a quick minute and his Mom, forever labeled a foster failure, like so many of us. In my experience, that is how it always happens…they always rescue us, don’t they? Us “saving” them is a bullshit illusion…every single time. I have been far more gifted than I have gifted and far more blessed than I could bless. I have…we have…you have…been given an opportunity, every time you open your heart and your home and your checkbook to help another find their way home.

I have had difficulty being around my own Service dog since we graduated. I feel guilty for putting such a heavy burden on Taos. I hate the idea of Taos having to be in my constant pain and I have tried to protect Taos from me, by keeping us separated. Sam is blown out all over the fucking place and her pain penetrates everyone in her path right now, especially Taos. I know it’s not the right thing and yet it’s all I’ve known to do, in all of this pain. I need Taos and Taos needs me and we’ve got this…I’m learning what Taos has always known…we are right where we are meant to be. We are on time, aren’t we Nahko?

Sam and I have been discouraged and living in fear for a lifetime. Sam and I have hidden behind recliners and under coffee tables and in the furthest corners of the darkness to feel safe. Sam and I have closed our eyes so fucking tight, just to keep the ugly out. Sam and I get Pranja. Sam and I are Pranja. You are Pranja and Pranja is you.

Sam is rising up, with her whole heart, with a lot of help from her friends. Sam will not be silent about things that matter to her ever again. Sam speaks for Sam.

While Watching Pranja have little nightmares last night and gently waking her and loving her through them, tears rolled down my face, as I too, have nightmares like that. I held Pranja on my chest to feel my heartbeat and we slept.

Looking at Prajna’s badly battered little body,I cannot help but notice my own. Keeping her from licking her spay scar, reminds me that I will soon have my own spay scars.  Seeing and feeling Prajna’s resilience and her persistence gives me renewed strength for my own journey. We are all just walking each other home, as Pranja just reminded me.

Pranja and Aiden say that if you want to run with the big dogs, you’ve got to be larger than life yourself. If you want to heal, you’ve got to come in out of the pain.

I could not be more thankful or more blessed than I am in these moments, with Pranja on my lap, Taos by my side and my girl getting my coffee for me, so that I can head off to see my clients and Tamara can do her amazing work in the world.

The lowest lows bring about opportunities for the highest highs. I am going to ride this high for a bit, as I thank God for my beautiful and absolutely amazing life! I am so blessed and I am so thankful.

Welcome home Pranja! We love you!


Eating my words today and inviting you to join me…


I just completed my blog and as it always does, it has a path of its own. Today, I write about something I just learned of, this week, something I am still coming to terms with, something I am bringing into the light. As always, thank you so much for being here, as I honor my commitment to myself to blog for 365 days to get it all out, rather than keeping it all in. My blog is for me, to heal me and to allow my voice, Sam’s voice, your voice, without being shamed and silenced. Today’s blog may be difficult to read, and so as always, if it’s too much, I bid you good day here. I love you..if it’s too much, at any point, stop reading, okay?

Good morning and Happy Thursday! I’m not sure why I’m waking at 2:00am…that used to be closing time for me.”You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here…”Many, many, many nights of closing down the bar and beginning my festivities at 2:00am.

I am not that girl anymore. I am in bed by 7:00 and that’s a late night for me, as of late. I haven’t been in the bars in years and I have been sober for just over four years…quit smoking over a year ago, and I’m on a cleansing, healing journey. Do you want to join me?!

I definitely lost my way when my Mom got sick. Man, I have never been so fucking destroyed as I was when I saw that MRI pop up on that screen…a picture really does say a thousand words sometimes…and sometimes, a picture takes every word you’ve ever uttered…grabs every single fucking word from you and renders you speechless. My Moms brain scan that morning, afternoon…day…a single word…that picture said one word to me…Cancer.

One word can change your life. One word can open doors. One word can close doors. One word, worth a thousand words..the past two and a half years for me…Cancer. One word took so much from me. One word is the only word that explained everything and nothing all at the same time. We all have a word like that, don’t we?  Terminal. Pregnant. Incest. Raped. Sober. Married. Divorced. Cancer. If you’ve ever been anywhere around those words, you know what I am saying…one word stops things. One word opens doors that another word closed shut.

What about strings of words? Words that we string together, based upon what others say? Don’t worry, I have an example for you, of my own assholeness (my blog…my word…I do what I want!) Have you ever heard someone say something about someone…and then someone else says the same thing about said someone? Maybe someone else, even says something else, something different, that strings itself to the other word? The words seem connected, they seem to fit…they seem accurate, and they may even feel true. These words are ugly and you hear them in scuttlebutt, and you begin repeating these words.

Fuck…there I go using the word “you” when I really mean to be saying “I”…I stand corrected…I began repeating those words. Two words, strung together, to describe someone I love deeply and dearly and true. I stopped using my words, her name…I used two words, because I heard others use their words and I made my own words. Fuck, maybe I started the whole thing! Maybe these are my words that others starters using, because they heard me say my words, and my words stuck. Now, because of me, others have been hurtful and ignorant and mean and judgmental.

I stand before you and I tell you today, that I have been wrong. I pause my writing to wipe the tears from my cheeks, as I admit to you that I have hurt people. I stand corrected and humbled and educated…forgiving and forgiven…love and loved. I will never utter those two words again, to anyone, about anyone, without a moment of self-reflection and humility to pause and make immediate amends…a pause to thank God for the lessons that become abundant blessings daily, when I am able to come clean.

In my story, there is not only one abuser. I am not the only victim and she is not my only abuser. I did not know this. I had my suspicions and a sick feeling in my gut, so I knew, and yet didn’t have the courage to “know” until yesterday. Yesterday, in the Middle of the store at Buffalo Exchange, on my way to therapy, thank you Jesus, I knew. I knew that my abuser…my story…my pain…my incest…my shame…they were not mine alone. This moment, illuminating another moment, another “knowing” of my story that someone else shares with me, that I did not know, until I knew. Now, I know. I cannot not know what I have just come to know. I know.

Apparently, the others did not know either, that there were others. We were all living our own private mother fucking hell, isolated and alone…afraid and fucking scared to death. We were tiny little kids in a world of big mean people…bullies and assholes…drunk and belligerent, ignorant and abusive big mean people. We tell our stories and they start connecting.

Until now, liars and misfits. Losers and crack whores…wanna be’s and nothings…trouble makers and instigators…pathetic and worthless…jobless and without compass…embarrassment to the family…alcoholic…those who never fit in, who have never amounted to anything… the ones too broken to mended, too addicted to be sober, too dirty to be clean…too weak to be well and too flawed to be forgiven. Destructive and suicidal…self harming and entitled…theives and liars. We are not those things. We are not those words, those strings of words, that we have been called, that we have called others. We are the sum of our parts and these are not our fucking parts. These have never been our parts.

Hi. My name is Coral. I am an alcoholic. I am an incest survivor. I come from sickness and I am here to get well.

It was easy for you to judge me, wasn’t it uncle? As I sat on your “lap”…I was a small child and children sit on laps. “It’s ok Coral…just sit on his lap. He loves you. He just wants to love you…don’t be so shy.” So, for my whole childhood, I sat on laps. I thought that all kids sat on the laps of adults who loved them. I hated sitting on laps…I mother fucking hated it. I wasn’t sitting really, I was trying to not sit, on the hard dick underneath me, shuffling and squirming, while you placed your hands on my shoulders, holding me on your lap, so you could “love” me some more. I grabbed for the dash, desperately trying to reach my little legs to the floorboard, so I could stand up or hang from the dash…whatever it took to get off of your hard and hardening Dick, desperately trying to turn my face away from your whiskers and the stinch of alcohol on your breath, as you rubbed your hard, rigid, red and angry face against my cheek and held me on your “lap”. You, who have always been so unkind to me…you who labeled me all of the horrible names and made me wrong…called me a liar and violated me, with your dick in your pants. You…Uncle…you sexually assaulted me. You hurt me over and over and over again. You did these things and you call me a loser?

When my Mom died and we were at her viewing, you pulled me in and “hugged” me, and you wouldn’t let me go. I stood, petrified in fear, only a few feet away from my dead Mom, while you violated me again. Tears ran down my cheeks, and she couldn’t wipe them away for me. I tried to break your hold a few times and you pulled me in closer. My Mom, even when she wasn’t lying in the casket a few feet away, could never keep her family’s hands off of me. God rest that poor, dear woman’s soul…God please give my beautiful Mother rest and reprieve from the horror that must have been her fucking life.

You’re right…I haven’t ever been able to find a job or a career I love and keep it. I can’t find a good man. I have a filthy mouth. I don’t know when to shut up. I will never amount to anything. These things have been true about me. Did you ever wonder what role you played in all of that? I mean, I’m not blaming you. In all of my failures, I am the common denominator. I get that and I own that and I embrace that part of me…the “loser” that you and your sick family created. Loser after loser after abused and tortured loser, coming out of this family. Does anyone besides me wonder why that is?

Alcohol addicted and unable to hold a job or a relationship for as long as I could hold the fucking bottle. The same bottle that I drank from before I could even walk, so you could have your way with me…so all of you could have your way with us, and we wouldn’t remember. As we bounced from lap to lap, sipping beers and being wrong…as we grew up and couldn’t have…I’m sorry…As I grew up and had dysfunctional sexual relationships, failures in my careers…a potty mouth and constant correction from you to “watch my mouth”. Watch my mouth? Watch my mouth? Why don’t you watch your filthy fucking mouth? Why don’t you watch your pathetic fucking dick, as it shrivels up into nothing…with no children to sit on it anymore, making it hard. Uncle, you did not get by with it. We know and we have always known that we didn’t like the way we felt around you, on your lap, in the stinch of your breath and under the crushing blows of your words…

My Dad always told me that “Coral Dawn, If they can live with it. You can live without it.” My Dad is right about that. The things you have to live with, are definitely things that I can live without. The things I had to live with for my entire childhood…you bet your sweet ass that I can live without them. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

So to all of the jobs I couldn’t hold down and the people I impacted with my inability to be present at work, I really am sorry. I’m sorry that you carried my load at work for me because my load outside of work is was too heavy for me to bear it all. To all of the friends I wasn’t a good friend to…I see that with clarity now and I hope you’ve forgiven me. I want you to know that I forgive you. I mean you haven’t asked me to and you probably won’t…and I forgive you and I forgive myself, just the same. To all of the boyfriends I couldn’t “be” with…I had no idea why until yesterday…I really didn’t. Hard dicks make me very uncomfortable and they always, and I mean, always have. I did not have any idea of this until yesterday…I really, really didn’t. It all begins to make sense, and so I thank each and every one of you for not forcing me, for not doing what was done to me, for not pushing me to do what would have felt good for you and harmed me. To all of the guys I’ve loved before…the guys I still love (you know who you are…all thee of you)…thank you for being man enough to love me how I needed to be loved. Thank you, all three of you amazing men, thank you. Thank you. Thank you. To all of the girls I’ve loved before…that’s another blog for another day.

To the one girl, the only girl, that really matters, in this moment, right here, right now…Tamara…I love you, with all of my heart, with all that I am. I cannot possibly tell you the countless ways that you touch and bless my life, every minute of every single day. Once I get spayed, we have some mountains to climb and some kayaking to do. We have some romance to catch up on and some memories to make together. We are on time. ( Thank you Nahko…this has kind of become our song). We are. All of us, on time.

I dedicate my blog today to the other voiceless victims in my family, in your family…in all of our families. May we rise up and be heard. May we rise up and be seen. May we know that we are not victims….we are fucking survivors! We resist. We survive. We will not, we cannot be silenced anymore. We speak our truth, even when our little Sam voices shake…we speak their names. Held in silence behind the horrible names that they put on us…stifled and suffocatied…driven into addiction…you bet your sweet ass, we will rise up and speak their names.

A lifetime of being told to be quiet…to watch my mouth…to not use that word because it offends you…my mouth, my words….they offend you? Have you ever taken a moment to wonder where all of that expression comes from? Have you ever stopped and looked at me? No really…have you, ever REALLY, looked at me, looked into my eyes…seen my soul? Have you ever really looked at me? If you haven’t, I invite you to.

For words I have used myself…words that labeled someone else, who was clearly already struggling…I am sorry. Truly, my own ignorance abounds sometimes and I own that. I know better and I will do better.

As always, I take my lessons from this and I turn them into the most abundant of blessings. I forgive those who have harmed me and I place a white light of protection around us all…a light that gives way for our own space, our own boundaries and our own comfort to be in time and space with others, without being harmed, without causing harm. I ask for forgiveness for not acting in accordance with who I really am…who I really, really am…I am love. I have always been love. I will always be love. I send what no longer serves me, back to the universe to be recycled for the greater good of us all. And so it is. We are all just walking each other home. Take my hand and let’s help each other through these rough patches, shall we?

Have a beautiful day everyone! If it feels wrong, there is a reason. Always, in all ways, trust your own gut instincts. When we pray, we are talking to God. Our intuition is God talking to us…are you listening?


UPDATE on my medical situation…

Good evening everyone! I am writing briefly to update you on my health situation, as I had a consult this morning, with the doctor who was referred to do my pap and pelvic under anesthesia.

Sam and I fought to get ourselves to this appointment. We went circles in the parking lot and almost went home. We persevered and we went in. We sat in the chair, not the stirrup table. We crossed our legs and we waited for the doctor.

The doctor is very nice and she is going to help Sam and I. After a very emotional and painful discussion, about hard, hard stuff…through many tears and lots of fear, there is victory for Coral and Sam!!

We are awaiting scheduling for a full hysterectomy. The talk of scopes and simple procedures…pelvic exams and possibilities…the doctor and I decided, with Sam kicking and screaming, to have the procedure that makes the most sense.

As soon as I can be scheduled in, I will be scheduled in for a full hysterectomy, including my ovaries. I am letting go of what no longer serves me…what has actually never served me…I have had intolerable pain and hemorrhaging since I began menstruating at age 12.

As my sister reminds me, everything, even this, really depends upon the lens in which you look through. I choose to adjust my lens now, to set my sails and to get me well.

Am I scared? Yes. Yes I am. I am scared that I won’t know how to live…I mean really, really live. I am afraid that I won’t know what to do with all of the good stuff. I am WAY more thankful than I am scared, to finally be addressing the pain that I am in, both physically and emotionally.

I thank you for being here. I thank you for your love and for your understanding…your patience and your presence in my life. I thank you for your prayers. I ask you to keep them coming and to double up on the love.

This news hit Tamara hard today too. My hurt, hurts doctors and therapists and my friends and my chosen family. My pain…my fear…they hit my girl. So, I ask you to please send that love overflowing…love like a verb…we invite your love, and we love you back.

Through our new lens, this surgery is the beginning of our beautiful new life. With this surgery, exits trauma held in a sexually abused and tortured…mutilated and confused body. With this surgery…out with what no longer serves this body.

Tamara and I have hikes to go on and long talks into the night about us and our dreams…we have stories about us and memories in the making….and we are just getting started!

To healing. To Sam. To the amazing medical team surrounding me. To each of you. Thank you for loving me, right where I am at. We’ve got this! We’ve fucking got this!

My world from under the door…love, Aiden (Aiden blogged for his mom today, and for all of us)…


Good morning everyone! This morning I have to be at the doctor at 7:30am, so I will make this a bit brief. I always want to wish you all a good morning, no matter what, so good morning!

Hey, thanks for being here! What a shit storm, huh? I am healing. I really am. I pray that you are healing too.

I went to see Aiden yesterday and I will tell you one thing, Aiden is life breath for me. Literal life breath and I am thankful, so thankful. Aiden and I get to work with each other every week and yesterday while opening Aidens ribs, and doing lymphatic work, Aiden wanted me to help him to get his voice back. When Aiden was captured, Aiden forfeited his voice. How many of us can relate to that?

The idea for this blog post is Aiden. Aiden wants to talk about the world from under the door. Aiden is 4 pounds and knowing that will help you to see how Aiden can have the perspective that Aiden has.

Aiden and I spent 12 days together, glued together. Every breath…every single one. The in between breaths, where we almost ceased to breathe at all, we breathed together. Aiden and I became one and we remain one, and I am blessed.

Aiden and I hid in recliners. I can count the coils in my head…the coils I counted over and over again, holding Aiden against my heart and breathing for us both. I recount the stale smell and the smell of stagnant smoke…the aged tapestry of the frayed fabric. Aiden and I spent many hours in that recliner. I called it our “hide out” and we fucking hid. Our lives depended upon us being able to hide and rest and reset. On a couple of nights, we couldn’t get to the recliner and so we slept in the belly of a whale. Morgan swam up and saved us on those nights.

Morgan has been denied release and Aiden and I are behind the scenes with Morgan, getting her through this. Aiden and I sleep in Morgan’s belly a lot to keep her company and to assure her that she is never alone, because we promise to always be right there.

Aiden does not discriminate. Aiden does not hold grudges. Aiden never got angry and Aiden has no blame. Truth be told, in all things, Aiden just wants his Mom. Aiden loves his Dad and Aiden loves his siblings. Aiden loves me. Most of all though, Aiden love, love, loves his Mom.

From the room where Aiden and I do our weekly sessions, I watch Aiden, follow his Moms every move, her every single word. “Hi, I’m Dr. Martin…” and Aiden is on! From one end of the wall to the other, sniffing and tail wagging, barking and running like a crazed lunatic, following her every word, listening to her every step, the clicking of her clip board and the number of steps…Aiden knows. Aiden shoved his tiny nose under the door, to his tongue searching the floor for small morsels of treats left behind, just for Aiden. Aiden knows his Mom. Aiden feels her and he is so connected to her that the door really doesn’t separate them at all. Twelve days apart, really did not separate Aiden and his Mom either, because Aiden knew and Aidens Mom and Dad knew and I knew…and all of you knew, that Aiden was coming home. Did I tell you….Aiden is home?!? Aiden is home and the world rejoices!

Aiden came to find me too. Aiden saved me too. On the day of my colonoscopy procedure, I was under anesthesia, after a stressful and particularly long wait, I was asleep so they could do what they needed to do to figure out why I feel like I’m fucking dying.

I really don’t remember too much. Tamara got some lovely video footage…and watching that poor girl struggle…watching Sam struggle through her words…has been very earth shattering for me, very heart wrenching and painful for me. Seeing Sam…in all of her glory…undeniably Sam…begins my healing.

During our procedure, Sam must have wandered off. Sam went to go and find God and find God San did indeed. Sam loves God and she wanted to go and stay with him. God said it was okay and even Coral didn’t fight her on it. Coral has said for forever, when the time comes, Coral and Sam are ready. No fear…no regrets…no worries…we are packed and ready to go anytime. We are good to go. Sam and I aren’t running around trying to take ourselves out….Sam and I are just battered and bruised and fucking exhausted.

Anyway, we were standing before our maker and we were holding his hand and headed toward the rainbow bridge, because that is where we intend to cross over when our time comes, when guess who showed up? None other than Aiden.

Aiden says, “Hey Coral. What are you doing?”….”Hi Aiden. I’m talking to God. God came to take me home.”…Aiden says, “Hi God. I’m here to get Coral and Sam, because the world needs them. You can’t have them yet.”…God says, “You’re right Aiden. You are absolutely right. Do you mind taking them back to their body?”

And that is how it happened…how Aiden and I play virtual ping pong, saving one another is single bounds. We are the epitome of walking each other home.

Aiden…I love you! I love you so, so much! Thank you to Aidens Mom and to Aidens Dad and to Tamara, for letting Aiden and I love each other so much!

Aiden says I love you Morgan! Aiden says thank you to every single one of you who prayed and searched and loved him home. Aiden says he loves you all too…and to remind you that we are all here, waking each other home.

Aiden wants to say something very special to his Mom today…”Hi Mom. It’s me Aiden. I want to tell you that I love you. I love you so, so, so, so, so , so much! I know the day you took me to help me get better was the same day I took your heart. I will share it with you, your heart, and you must know, part of your heart is inside my heart and always with me. Your heart and your heartbeat brought me home. Counting your steps under the door and from behind the walls, helped me to keep countof you. All of your steps and your words and your heartbeats, I keep count of them all and so I always know where your are. I knew I felt I kept counting, you would step to me. I never knew anything different. I always knew you would come. Coral says you will always, always, forever and a million days and more, even to infinity and beyond…come to get me. I love you Mom. I love you Dad. I love you Jackson. Jackson, don’t play blame game either …okay?”

So, there you have it…Aidens morning blog for all of you today…can we all say it togethrrr, from the deepest places in our hearts…”I love you Aiden. Welcome home!”