My chance to protect my mother(s) & eye treatment
Donation protected
my chance to protect my mother(s) when i couldn’t because i was a child
my mother would die of embarrassment if she knew i was doing this, not because she is too proud (maybe a little, yes, she's a leo, but because well maybe that's the only reason why) but, something about my mother is she rarely asks for help or maybe it's that i have never seen her ask for help because i was always a child - and and and
she was busy raising me as a single mother who had just adopted me, working a full time job, who had just moved from living in a bug infested apartment in portland, maine (sorry, mom, lol that was a dinner story).
and so in the last 5 years she has asked me for help 3 times. and that is the most she has asked me for help in the years that i have known her and i have known her almost all of my life. well this life… (you caught that, right.)
almost.
my mom adopted me when i was 2.5 years old from san pedro sula honduras. my birth mother died when i was 12. i was adopted because she was coerced into giving me up in prison. and when she died all of my other siblings were adopted in honduras but i went to america bc i was born in a honduran prison. yes. that women’s prison on the news in tamara, honduras. google if you wish. i won’t post here.
i was likely trafficked. and my mother (the woman i love that this is for was never told that and there’s so much more to unravel.
this is why i am in social work school.
and maybe. i’m trying to relive my birth mothers short 33 years on earth.
here is a poem i wrote for my mother, nora:
freedom is a temple with no walls
i launch myself in between daydreams and nightdreams
so i can live inside of your love.
you’ve got roots in places
i’ve never visited or heard of
you’re anchored into the molecular structure of my being.
you sprout out of me like the shafts of my hair.
you’re alive in my breath. you’re alive in my awareness.
i dig you up from the ground from azucarron pineapple fields
from rivers plunging
through the valley,
build you up with limestone,
place golden dewdrops
into my solitude of night
i launch myself into
unmapped dreams that lift mountains
don’t you know
your love lifts mountains
••••
and while this story is not about me, it is about (us) every single one of us - threaded 2gether - from a tapestry of love - and my love for my mother(s) and hers for me. and the totality of life and living and the fragility of it all.
i also don't ask for help. i help.
but i am asking now. for my mom.
i help others.
even when they don't ask for help. (lots to unpack there.)
my mom is better at 70 (she is 70)
and rarely asks for help,
but she's gotten more open to that idea. she has community and deep and loving friends, but she doesn't ask ME for help that often but i sometimes see it in the way she sighs or holds her breath. i see it in herb stare or longing in her eyes. and the way she holds her chin up high trying not to cry.
because—so i’ve heard — mothers care for their children that is the motherly duty. and when she does directly for help and not only hints for help...i get very good at indirect clues because of her lol, i know it is really serious.
my mother, the woman i adore and raised me.. this woman i love—she shouldn't have to live in chronic pain. no one should.
so i am asking for help.
while i don't want to disclose more than she'd be comfortable with. here is what i willl share: my mom retired early to help me go to school. period.
and people die and moms die. and children live on. and we die, too.
and education is important to our family. and i’m a scholarship kid. i love school. and she loves me in school and loved to educate and pass on that gift of knowledge to all of her students.
in a strange way, i am an immigrant by adoption, but not really—it’s complicated.
she never married (BY CHOICE! she yells in the background, just joking, but i can hear it lol) she’s a second gen italian-american nonbinary woman who worked in Deaf and Hard of Hearing education (for children!!). she’ moved to maine to raise me and has lived there for over 40 years.
when i came to the united states i learned english and ASL at the same time bc of my chronic ear infections and maybe in this way it was kismet (adoption is complicated) bc i eventually had and a hearing loss in my left ear.
almost 5 years ago she had breast cancer and survived it, and i had medullary thyroid cancer before that, sigh…and we have both cancer free. we are so connected- our love is so beautiful.
her medication makes her tired, and has side effects that makes it really hard for her to do the things she loves like sew and be creative (work with her hands).
my mom has always had poor vision. early tonight (9/19/2024) she had a small car accident and she broke her glasses and had a small fender bender. on top of this the biggest ask and point of this crowdfunding campaign is for a medical procedure:
a recent chronic eye disease medically diagnosed as: Meibomian Gland Dysfunction and her doctor is recommending a treatment that is not covered by her insurance company that costs. this a noninvasive treatment. it like getting a really expensive eye facial and massage that will be really life changing because she has suffered with this chronic dry eyes for he near life, it's just progressed into this disease...
here is a itemised break down of the medical treatment plan:
as they list it in the brochure:
2,500 for Intense Pulsed Light (IPL) - IPL not only treats meibomian gland dysfunction but also reduces inflammation and enhances overall tear production. Four sessions of treatment;
500 for Lipiflow - 1 round to allow oil glands to get a new flow and clean and heal
total cost: 3,000
please donate anything you can. anything helps.
we only have each other. we belong to eachother.
I say 3,500 because wouldn't it be nice for her to take a week off and enjoy those eyes and go to the beach in maine or take a trip she’s never gone anywhere but honduras or mexico (my 15/16th “bday present”) or finally go to Italy (probably more than 500, sorry toots, she's never been to ITALY and she's italian) but hey, the goal is for her to get the medical procedure, not Italy. i love you moms lol
and i love you, who is reading and even if you are not in the position to donate, i love that you took the time to read. please enjoy the rest of your day however that may look for you.
here is a recent poem i wrote about my mom angel(a)/angelina:
loving you
my words say more things than
I can understand
twilight spins, musicbirds trill,
stars fall from the sky like postcards from God,
and I feel your invisible thread quilting me together in your dazzling lovelight
(my mom in her 20s, she made that outfit! she should be wearing her glasses, stigma, am i right?)
Organizer
greiby medina
Organizer
New York, NY