You were born only to be abandoned. You grew up with the unwanted, herded like cattle by strangers in white collars. People passing you by like yesterday’s news.
Abuse was a daily issue, something to be expected and something that happened often. You would carry the sting of their violations like scar on your soul. But you wouldn’t let it corrupt you.
You found love with a man who created troubled landscapes, who gave you two children. And when you began to thrive that man who created those landscapes walked away.
He left you behind with two mouths to feed. You found a strength you never knew you had. And when another bout with love gave you one more you still stood tall.
The life you created came out in your art. You were a teacher, you taught us about our traditions, our people. Â Your stories were so popular that children from different lands began to benefit from hearing about our history and ancestors.
Then one day in May, you went to sleep, you joined our ancestors in the spirit world. People from all over who were touched by you shared their stories but we were the ones left to pick up the pieces.
Now 25 years later, we thrive. Like you taught us, we continued the story. We see you every day in the smiles and laughter of your grandchildren. You taught us to grow, to be ourselves and because of that you will never be truly gone.