Surface Lot

My husband is an addict.  Click, flame lights, tinfoil crackles, sharp inhale, lungs fill, smoke billows, brain floods, neck goes limp, pupils constrict. A man sits alone in a car in a concrete parking garage. The dome light inside of the car paints shadows across his face. Deepening the dark curved grooves beneath his eyes; … Continue reading Surface Lot

Cinnamon

A few things about me: my name Marahu, pronounced Ma-da-oo, is Taino Indian (indigenous Caribbean people of Puerto Rico living on the island when Christopher Columbus arrived and before the island was colonized) and means 'goddess of clear skies', I hate waste, especially wasting food, I love coconut, I am an avid coffee drinker, I … Continue reading Cinnamon

One Day at a Time: Surviving The Colonial Fist 

This post is going to be all over the place, because, well, all over the place is how I feel. Balancing, teetering, floating, rocking, falling, standing, sinking, rising, I walk upon earth, through life. One day at a time.  My husband and I celebrated some personal victories last week. He is number one in the … Continue reading One Day at a Time: Surviving The Colonial Fist 

Thaw 

‪It is 59 degrees in Massachusetts. Last weekend we had two nor'easter storms that dropped about 2 feet of snow.  Melting snow flows,  liquid footsteps skipping upon rooftops, sounding waterfalls outside‬.  Reminder that  from still frozen ground,  from muddy earth, ‪Emerges life‬.  It is February in New England; that means anything could happen. Enjoying the … Continue reading Thaw 

Love In Recovery 

Sonnet XVII I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,    or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:    I love you as one loves certain obscure things,    secretly, between the shadow and the soul.  I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries    the light … Continue reading Love In Recovery 

A Sobering Winter 

It is Febuary of 2017. I live in the United States. There is a winter storm coming. My husband is a recovering opioid addict. He has been clean for 122 days. "The greatness of a man is not in how much wealth he acquires, but in his integrity and his ability to affect those around … Continue reading A Sobering Winter 

Postcards

We must not become complacent. Surviving (addiction) in the time of Trump. Week 2.  Days Sober: 118 ***march: aka protest, write, call, resist, share, speak, discuss, listen, organize, investigate, read, inform, create, love*** I march for human rights.  I march against discrimination and bigotry.  I march for inclusivity and love.  I march against the Alt-Right.  … Continue reading Postcards

History’s Lessons: Actions in Addiction and the Resistance Ahead

"Quote words that affirm all men and women are your brothers and sisters." -Aberjhani, The River of Winged Dreams   Days Sober: 110 When my husband was using my bones were brittle from stress, my back bent with burden, my walk labored with stress,  my mind tired from the worry, my thinking distorted by anxiety. … Continue reading History’s Lessons: Actions in Addiction and the Resistance Ahead

Between the Rainfalls

Lifting my face to the sky there is the moment when the sun's rays caress the skin The glow it seeps into the bones warms the heart A fleeting eclipse before it retreats into the clouds  These moments  Between the juncture of clouds  amidst the smattering of rainfalls  They are everything  Last night I had … Continue reading Between the Rainfalls

On Gratitude and A Day in the Life, January 14, 2017 (from a thirty-something year old woman living in a blue state in the God-blessed USA) 

Days Sober: 97 Days left of Barack Obama presidency: 6 Loving someone who suffers from addiction is really hard. So is life. Some days I worry that we just won't survive. That life is just too damn hard, that the world is too brutal, and that the disease of addiction is too pervasive. The world … Continue reading On Gratitude and A Day in the Life, January 14, 2017 (from a thirty-something year old woman living in a blue state in the God-blessed USA)