National Adoption Day-November 23, 2013

JOURNAL-CALENDARHaving the experience of a failed domestic adoption and a turbulent international adoption, I know the process takes a monumental toll on our lives.

But there is hope and help, thanks to the  NATIONAL ADOPTION DAY campaign.

NAD_logoNational Adoption Day is a collective national effort to raise awareness of the more than 100,000 children in foster care waiting to find permanent, loving families. This annual, one-day event has made the dreams of thousands of children come true by working with policymakers, practitioners and advocates to finalize adoptions and create and celebrate adoptive families.

In total, National Adoption Day helped nearly 44,500 children move from foster care to a forever family. Communities across the county celebrate the Saturday before every Thanksgiving. In 2012, more than 4,500 children were adopted by their forever families during the 13th annual National Adoption Day celebration in almost 400 cities across the United States.

This year the National Adoption Day Coalition expects 4,500 children in foster care to be adopted on National Adoption Day, on November 23, 2013.”

For more information, please visit Nationaladoptionday.org

Día de los muertos

DAY OF THE DEAD SKULL PUPPET

Living in Oaxaca City, Mexico while the entire community shifted  tempo and unified to honor their loved ones, now gone, left an indelible imprint on my soul. Since 1994, the month of October sets in motion a parade of vivid memories of the preparation and lead up to el Día de los muertos, unlike anything I’d ever experienced.

During my childhood, my mother, La Jefita filled both bathtubs and the kitchen sink with white gladioli soaking its long-legged stems in water. On November 1st, she commandeered us to cemeteries on both sides of the Nogales border. Once there, we weeded and swept around the tombs where I tiptoed and made certain where my feet landed. Despite nearing thirteen, I still expected a Boris Karloff hand to yank me into the grave. As soon as the bouquets of gladioli graced the vases, we prayed, keeping one eye on the man selling candied red apples. I still remember the scraping of the brooms  and hushed tones from one end of the cemetery to the other. The chill in the air and the fragrance of slightly burned sugar.

I’d grown up among grandmothers, who each had elaborate altars year round. My maternal grandmother, Nachu retreated to a tiny white stucco, red-tiled chapel in her backyard. A sacred, candlelit nicho inured in sorrow and incense. Nana Herminia’s took up an entire wall in her bedroom. A crucifix crowned its center, la Virgen de Guadalupe, fresh flowers and candles meticulously set on crisp white linens, which camouflaged the safe underneath containing her valuables.

But nothing prepared me for Oaxaca. My Man and I roamed the city streets from dawn to midnight…

ALTAR

Visiting altars, mesmerized by the significance of each altar, from the arches and dazzling blood flowers to the handmade skulls and shimmering papel picado…
ESQUELETO

  A small corner of a plaza was transformed into an altar commemorating those who had died from smoking…
RESTAURANT

The aroma of mole lured us into finding this one at the entrance to this restaurant…
CHURCH SKULLThis paper mache skull was tall enough for me to walk inside…

ALTAR ARCHES

As the sun set, we joined a raucous procession back into the city…
EVENING ALTAR

And walked with hundreds of people to one of the many cemeteries where loved ones kept vigil with music, food, prayer, and stories…
CEMETERY

We watched from a distance while remembering and honoring our own.