Last night I dreamed my father ... as I always think, I had an appointment with my angel ...
In my dream I saw myself in a place that I recognized as the offices of a newspaper perhaps remembering the place where my father was there at my workplace ... I was crying desperately searching without finding ... along comes the "guy" who eventually usurped my coordination in the work helped by my head, taking my place, maybe the story is remembered ( here is the link of what I wrote at the time ) and in my sleep again is rewarded with a position much better than mine by a chief who will never see his face ... I cried desperately looking for my father and still could not find ... I clearly remember my discomfort and sadness of being in a place where I did not like people do not even look at me and of course I ran the word ... (what happens now) then I saw my mother and I went to tell him that was not my father and wanted him to tell him how hard I try not to be well achieved.
Sometime in my dream I looked at my father in the midst of all people, I remember my dream is in black and white, all without color, a gray gloom, my father looked at him with lots of color, with blue guayabera and a smile on his face. I run into his arms in a sea of \u200b\u200btears and close permanently into his arms and caressed my head telling me CALM, ALL IS WELL ....
Things have not been so simple, is that nobody is ... and so is the life of constant struggle, but how hard it is to do in a world where you feel you're irrelevant, because the corruption, impunity and hopelessness are our daily bread. It's hard not to catch, preserve the spirit and not lose hope.
I'm not the same, at least in my workplace, I confess that I have changed and could not be otherwise ... however if it were not for my items, everything I write and stuff, and now my big project INSTITUTE CAMPECHE Psychotherapist "Hypatia", not that it would be me.
few days ago a friend asked me how I did it to recharge my energies when suddenly the battery is low ... I and I commented that I appreciate greatly to my patients at the clinic, their struggle to be better is to be admired, and the trust placed in me makes me feel that my struggle and effort are worth it ... and I have to pass from the bottom of my heart that happiness is something that can be achieved, but we must fight for her ...
Another huge source for my positive energy, is my family ... my children, my husband, my nieces, my sisters, my mother ... they also fight and we enjoyed together despite everything we've been so difficult, together or separately ...
is that the struggle continues ... still not over ... is important to be grateful ... gratitude to all that life gives us is an inexhaustible source of positive direction to what we experience daily, very difficult and hard this is ...
my father's death has not been easy to overcome ... he was happy, I do not doubt ... in his last moments must confess that I felt sad and depressed ... knowing that he had no life long worried, because I knew it would not of their loved ones who had protected and cared so much ... another thing that moved me deeply was to see him alone, was a person who helped many I'm sure unconditionally without expecting anything in return, he had to leave work for health reasons, writing was his passion and lived it well ... but all at home we witnessed the indifference of many who told their friends and those who tirelessly helped ... I'm sure it hurt a lot ...
remember his picture in the living room couch next to the large window facing the street, deep in thought and perhaps their deepest feelings ...
I want my life has meaning ... I was like yours in mine and that of all who knew him are aware of it or not ... sorry that is not with me to watch everything I've achieved ... but that as a guardian angel is there in me and all beings who loved with all his heart. It was a guardian angel in life ... is that now it is too.
I thank God for His blessings ... I live and feel alive, not only surviving in this world that is presented daily as complicated and even aggressive ... I know there are many angels on our side, some living very close to us, others may no longer be, but I'm sure "Death does not rob us of loved ones. Instead we keep them and us The immortalized in the memory, it is life if we robs many times and definitely. "
A kiss to all.
From the earliest times
guardian angels fly
always jealous of his votes against abuses and excesses.
Along with infant cribs,
with the sad dying
have to watch the Gentiles winged beings from another world.
When this angel across the sky,
nothing similar to it.
The end of his hurry
flight is the decision of a herejeno be distracted or delayed,
everything is now inappropriate. Va
toward the field of flowers
where the fire expected to Bruno.
launched an angel of the height,
get cold.
The order of his head is down to Two Rivers.
May 19 and also is the mountain of foam and mother saw
when another horse angel falls "with the poor of the earth."
say that the edge of an angel even compassionate
passed before the moon, flying over the olive trees.
They say that bad habit was shot with her fan,
just in time that Spain Federico murdered.
A beautiful archangel hovers next to a big iron bird. Try
see a man to drive away one hundred thousand exiles.
But the archangel is stifled and a blue wing hurts
and black bird opens its mouth when they pass through Hiroshima.
leaving a luminous groove on Memphis, Tennessee
, hurriedly flew a winged frenzy. Iba
put into mourning, crying was the cherub
and was counting the minutes of God and Martin Luther King.
The angel passes under a bridge, then
around a skyscraper.
Central Park, full of people, not aware of your flight.
much utopia will be broken and how much imagination
door when bullets Dakota knocked down to John. September
howls still chilling balance its dual
everything happens the same day from a similar hatred.
And the same angel that was back in Chile to bomb the president,
see the two towers with thousands falling unforgettably.
desperation, the cherubs make heaven on earth
and clouds with paint pens farewell to war.
The world cries filled the balconies and at the end:
this is my fight, but the lord of the guns
does not look to heaven and hear him. Poor
urgent angels are never saved.
Could it be that they are incompetent or there's no way to help?
To avoid further pain and accounts of the psychoanalyst, we
a ding mejoresy much less selfish.
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