So, it has been in my heart to write a compilation of real life stories from illegal immigrants.
I myself having previously been one.
In my heart I want to expose WHY people come here and risk their lives to be here.
I want to tell people's stories about their struggles in this country, their personal lives, their school, work, etc. I want to bring to light the everyday life, the dreams these people have.
I'm not here to exalt the act of being here illegally, IT IS against the law. But I want to unveil the person behind the label "illegal immigrant" to see the true heart of people as PEOPLE who like everyone have hopes and dreams and strive for a better future for themselves, their families, their loved ones.
So, if you or someone you know is an illegal immigrant or has been in the past and if you're willing, send me your story.
I want to write about it!
Don't worry, no details will be exposed.
Send me an email or msg me via facebook!
Thanks...
These true stories will be up on my blog as they start coming in.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Thinking of dad
Sometimes when I'm reading something, watching a movie, look in the mirror, or even just watching people, I burst into tears.
My heart is sad. So many things remind me of my dad. Sometimes when I look in the mirror I can see his features in me. People trigger memories and thoughts of him.
Though he was not really a part of my life I can't say he didn't love me or cared.
This man once taught me how to play checkers in our living room, he once carried me into the house while I pretended to be asleep, he bought me a beautiful circus puzzle that I still remember vividly, he had an amazing voice. He didnt spend much time with us, he was rarely home.
I don't get sad because he didn't spend much time with us, I get sad because I wont get to spend time with him. He wont get to hug me or talk to me. He'll never meet my kids or know their names. I won't get to feel him or hear his voice, and though I didn't do all this while he was alive, doesn't mean I didn't want to.
I don't know for sure but I know that alcohol and tobacco had some play in his death. I know he had problems and was addicted to the substances. Sometimes I can't help but think those substances took him from me, from us. I know he fought the addictions, but never truly won. I know he didn't love them more than he loved us, but I know he was an imperfect man, with troubles and struggles who didn't know a way out of the world he had entrapped himself in.
Circumstances and things in life can take us away from what truly matters, family.
Sometimes what makes me the most sad is thinking that he died a sad and lonely man; not knowing he was wanted and loved by me. I can't even begin to imagine his last moments or his last thoughts.
At times I think I just get mad, thinking WHY is he gone, and I never got to talk to him? Why did I not get to see him again?
My only consolation is that I believe that someday I'll see him in heaven, maybe not as I remember, and maybe I'm wrong. But how I wish I could and would see him in heaven.
- In closing, I know my children will know and have their parents in their lives for as long as God wants us there.-
Love your kids, hug them, tell them you love them, caress them, it makes a difference and we remember even the smallest things.
Love your family, don't let arguments, drugs, substances, or distance separate you. You truly don't know how long you've got them with you.
To all my family:
I love you all! =) Even when I'm a pain just know that you are loved, even if I don't see you much or say it.
My heart is sad. So many things remind me of my dad. Sometimes when I look in the mirror I can see his features in me. People trigger memories and thoughts of him.
Though he was not really a part of my life I can't say he didn't love me or cared.
This man once taught me how to play checkers in our living room, he once carried me into the house while I pretended to be asleep, he bought me a beautiful circus puzzle that I still remember vividly, he had an amazing voice. He didnt spend much time with us, he was rarely home.
I don't get sad because he didn't spend much time with us, I get sad because I wont get to spend time with him. He wont get to hug me or talk to me. He'll never meet my kids or know their names. I won't get to feel him or hear his voice, and though I didn't do all this while he was alive, doesn't mean I didn't want to.
I don't know for sure but I know that alcohol and tobacco had some play in his death. I know he had problems and was addicted to the substances. Sometimes I can't help but think those substances took him from me, from us. I know he fought the addictions, but never truly won. I know he didn't love them more than he loved us, but I know he was an imperfect man, with troubles and struggles who didn't know a way out of the world he had entrapped himself in.
Circumstances and things in life can take us away from what truly matters, family.
Sometimes what makes me the most sad is thinking that he died a sad and lonely man; not knowing he was wanted and loved by me. I can't even begin to imagine his last moments or his last thoughts.
At times I think I just get mad, thinking WHY is he gone, and I never got to talk to him? Why did I not get to see him again?
My only consolation is that I believe that someday I'll see him in heaven, maybe not as I remember, and maybe I'm wrong. But how I wish I could and would see him in heaven.
- In closing, I know my children will know and have their parents in their lives for as long as God wants us there.-
Love your kids, hug them, tell them you love them, caress them, it makes a difference and we remember even the smallest things.
Love your family, don't let arguments, drugs, substances, or distance separate you. You truly don't know how long you've got them with you.
To all my family:
I love you all! =) Even when I'm a pain just know that you are loved, even if I don't see you much or say it.
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