my Aunt Charlet, who is a police detective in Sheboygan, was exposed to AIDS in a drug raid five days ago.

my mom, who has given me the courage to get over my brush with cervical cancer, is about to go through the same thing with skin cancer.

my grandmother, who as it turns out, has given me a new breath of hope with my battle and the battles my family faces.

another lesson learned. my family has been my solid ground. i'm constantly being checked up on; reminded to take my pills, drugs, vitamins; urged to eat well, to eat more than i'd like to; encouraged to pray. i do pray. everynight, i whisper - maybe just to myself - that i'll see through it. things will mend. i'll regain trust. i'll forgive.

eccelsiastes 3: 1-8 --
to every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

and when i'm not rereading that, i'm listening to alicia key's duet with john mayer 'lessons learned' --
sometimes some lies can
take a minute to fully realize
his tears your eyes
thirty seconds to apoligize
you give him one more chance
just like the time before
but he already knows you'd give a hundred more
until that night in bed, you wake up in a sweat
your racing to the door
can't take it anymore
i was burned but i call it a lesson learned
mistake overeturn but i call it lesson learned.
my soul has returned so i call it a lesson learned.
Another lesson learned....

my bones ache. my eyes wander. my hands meet my cheeks after pulling the pillow beneath my head closer to my chin. what the be grateful for? --the mattress my parents bought me as my housewarming gift in September, for they knew i'd be spending more time in my bed. --my little brother, who put his arms around me and laughed quietly in my ear when i started crying at the alter during his confirmation blessing. he's had diabetes since he was five years old, what am i complaining about? --my mother, who i've inherited my spunk and mannerisms from. she's so proud of me that it makes me cry, for i know where i get it from. i've got the best team behind me. and i finally, finally, have the power to pray again.