“The Message”:

BRAVO, IVAN! I’m so thankful I get to call you a friend now and not just some random crazy rockstar whose music I happen to love.

Meanwhile …

Enough said on this subject that no one really wants to talk about. Oh, with the exception of this bittersweet life nugget that I had to learn the very hard way at the life and death of my angel daughter, Gina Marie, exactly twenty years ago this day:

Next, there was the little one who passed go but never collected the $200 before her tiny little feet hit the board. She was both the greatest gift and greatest tragedy of my life, wrapped softly in a yellow blanket and sent straight back Home in angel’s wings. Still, even with an often daily struggle with the hole in my heart that belongs to her, I must admit that there have been days that I’ve thanked God that He took her out of here before the pain and struggle of simply “existing” became her any longer than the few short hours she spent here.

(“Agreement One“)

Let’s be honest all you parents out there in this bullshit club of having to outlive and bury child: Have any of you ever felt a little guilty about bringing them into “all of this” in the first place? Indeed, I have, and will continue to bear this double-edged sword of parenthood with as much “power and grace” as I can keep on mustering. Even on my best days in the hood, though, the burden of carrying the weight that an often sick and depraved “humanity” heaps upon our shoulders is all but impossible.

For the record, whether you’re a parent or not, if you never made it to see The Sound Of Freedom, I cannot urge you strongly enough to find a way to see it. I Jean-Claude Van DAMN promise that you’ll never be able to look at either an 18-wheeler rolling down the highway or a coastal shipyard loaded with “empty” cargo boxes the same again. Granted, it’s uncomfortable subject matter, disturbing nonetheless, but a MUST SEE for the sake of opening your eyes, ears, hearts, and awareness to what I believe is the most abominable travesty on this planet.

As for me and how I’m choosing to acknowledge both this “National Human Trafficking Awareness Day” and what would have been my tiniest angel’s 20th birthday had Destiny not much better plans for her, I’ll remain as steel a magnolia I can, all the while praying and crying on my knees for all those babies locked inside darkened rooms, even as I’m writing this, and begging GOD that those demons masked as “humans” will meet their final judgment day with as much hell, fire, and damnation as they wreaked on His children.