"THE CURE FOR ANYTHING..."

Isak Dinesen once wrote, "THE CURE FOR ANYTHING IS SALT WATER: SWEAT, TEARS, OR THE SEA.
I am in need of a cure and lately the sweat creating workouts aren't coming the way they used to, and tears...well, when my niece arrived, the crying stopped. It turned out that my crying disturbed her, so I stopped. Now, I try to cry, I need to cry, I have much emotion to purge, but the crying has stopped, despite my desire to sob a big sloppy one. I feel the urge often, I've lost so much in the past ten years and have much to cry about, but the urge is like the itch before the sneeze that then passes.

The opportunity came, via my husband's job, for us to travel to the Gulf Coast of Florida and I jumped at the chance. I have not been to the ocean's edge for 3 years and am in great need to feel and sync with the rhythm of the tide. In our planning we had much difficulty securing a place to stay, for whatever reason, everything was booked. Finally, after tweaking our dates, we have a plan! The plan, I'm certain was put in place especially for me, by powers of Grace.

This trip to the shore has come at a great time of need for me and my grief. I have understanding and realization now of the sequence of the events leading up to this trip, the necessity for it, and the Providence behind it. Let me explain, in February of 2009, I wrote the following down in my journal about a dream I had of my deceased sister. My sister, if you have been following along you know, was murdered by her boyfriend ten years ago this week. This is what is written in my journal, a premonition of sorts, or perhaps it was more of a subconscious request of mine made 8 months ago:

I dreamed what felt like more of a vision than a dream, that on the night my sister was killed by that man, I was there to help create a different future for both of us. I walked into her room, and without the need for words or one spoken sound, led her by the hand out of the apartment and away from him. We stood out in the street together looking into each others eyes with a knowing. The next time we were together was the present moment. I travelled to her home which set on a beautiful white sanded beach. When she answered the door, this time she took my hand and led me into her home where we sat together for hours just holding each other. The next day we walked hand in hand along the beach, walking where the ocean meets the sand, giggling and flirting with the waves. We laughed and smiled, we sat and talked, we were happy, and time and death had no place in our thoughts. We were together. She was alive, vibrant, and happy. Thoughts of this dream does bring tears to my eyes, happy ones. And I KNOW that she lives somewhere on a beautiful beach awaiting my visit.

I'm making that visit. I hope she joins me in spirit and blesses my broken heart and tormented soul with the same peace I feel when I recall that dream, that vision I had of her and her laughing light.

--Victoria Hart
Painting: Robert St. John http://rstjohnstudio.com/girls_on_beach.htm

DEAR SISTER,

I MISS YOU SISTER LIKE A THUMB CUT FROM MY HAND.

I HAVEN'T SLEPT IN YEARS,
YOU KEEP CALLING ME IN MY DREAMS.

HOW DO I MAKE MY WAY BACK TO YOU?

ALL NIGHT I SEARCH FOR YOU ONLY TO AWAKEN EXHAUSTED AND ALONE.

YOUR NEED FOR ME CROSSES TIME AND SPACE.
MY NEED FOR YOU, CROSSES ME.

MEMORIES OF YOU CHURN, AGITATE, TOSS AND TURN ME.

I'M SORRY FOR YOU,
I'M SORRY FOR ME WITHOUT YOU.

SINCE YOUR DEATH,
IT HAS TAKEN YEARS FOR ME TO MOVE FORWARD, AT TIMES I FALL BACK STILL.

LIKE A HAND WITHOUT A THUMB, I CEASE TO FUNCTION.

I'M WAITING FOR YOU, BEHIND MY THOUGHTS, IN MY DREAMS.

DO I REALLY EXPECT YOUR RETURN?
********************************************************************************

My sister, June, was murdered by her boyfriend on October 28, 1999. What is it about a 10 year anniversary that makes one stand still? I am haunted, hunted, and caged by grief. I struggle to remember her life, but sadly, I'm tormented by her violent death. Peace come to me, please. I love you JuneBug.

--Victoria Hart

All Women Are Sisters

All Women Are Sisters

A woman was murdered and another woman was wounded beyond repair. I wish I could say this is a unique situation.
Domestic violence knows no socioeconomic or educational boundaries and yet we as women rarely speak publicly on this injustice. Women empowering women must discuss this often swept under the rug subject, otherwise who are we kidding? Women need to speak together loudly to strengthen the spirits of these women who have lost their voices. We must lend them ours.
The time for conversation about domestic abuse has passed for many. The following is one woman’s expression following the violent murder of her sister at the hands of a boyfriend, nearly 10 years ago.
THE VISITOR
“ A visitor comes to my door unexpectedly, unannounced, uninvited even. He walks into the kitchen and engages me in conversation about her, her violent death, who killed her. He carries my thoughts to the funeral home and I’m reminded of her in the casket, her face heavily made-up to cover the blue bruised skin, her scratched swollen hands, and the emptiness. Mostly I’m reminded of how empty the room feels. I hear my Mother’s wail as they close the casket. I see my husband and brother carry my Mother to the car. The scenes scan across my mind like a movie, unreal.
He especially enjoys taking me to the murder trial, where I see the hollow man sit on the chopping block awaiting his sentence for a crime he seems oblivious to. I listen to his friends condemning testimonies citing his boasting about the strength of his hands. I feel compassion for his Mother crying in a bewildered state. I argue with the visitor, “This is not a memory I care to recall,” but he insists that we discuss it. He is strong and relentless in presence.
He reminds me of the autopsy photos carelessly passed around the courtroom with cavalier disregard toward my family’s suffering. He tells me I was right to take the stand to present photos of my sister and testify about who she was and how she looked before she was strangled. I tell him I don’t feel so right about any of it. I ask him to leave. He does not.
I attempt to reminisce about my sister’s hearty and vivacious spirit. I recall as children the times we braided dandelions into tiaras to don in our sun-bleached hair. I tell him how she held my hand when I was afraid and whispered to me in the dark sweet stories until I fell asleep. I describe her beauty and playful cat green eyes. He diverts my attention back to the funeral and I pull away. “Please let me remember her life for just a while longer.” It seems I cannot, the violent way she died left indelible marks on my heart, tainting my memory. I struggle to free myself from the ugliness of it all. He continues talking, tormenting me, until I cannot cry any longer and feel numb.
I pull myself away from everyone in my life, seeking refuge from the pain. I cry alone at night quietly, hoping not to disturb anyone. The Visitor stays close by, watches, and talks some more. He is a rude, wicked creature impaling me with his words until I am beaten and exhausted; until I care not about life at all.
I never know when he will visit or how long he will stay. When he leaves I am dragged in the current, further away from her. With each visit he takes more of her from me. I feel worse, not better. I feel alone. Days pass before I am able to walk confidently again.
I miss my sister and I was able to forgive her murderer, but I cannot forgive The Visitor, who continues to make me relive the pain. I struggle to hold the memories of her beauty with peace in my heart.
My visitor may visit you as well. You may recognize him as grief.”

Do you know a woman suffering abuse, sexual assault, or stalking? Share this story with her if it helps you initiate a dialogue. Be supportive, nonjudgmental, and let her know you are concerned for her safety. Gather her with other women to strengthen her spirit. For more information on how to help a friend visit the National Domestic Violence Hotline website at http://www.ndvh.org/.
If you find yourself in an abusive relationship, talk about it to your friends, to clergy, and to your loved ones. Get away to a motel, a friend or relative’s home, or a shelter. Make a safety plan. There is no reason to feel shame. You are not alone.
In the U.S., according to the Centers for Disease Control, 1.3 million women are victims of physical assault by an intimate partner each year. One in every 4 women experience domestic violence in her lifetime. Everyday 3 women die as a result of domestic violence, that’s 1,200 deaths per year.
It is my hope that by sharing this story a life will be saved, your sister’s life, your girlfriend’s life, or perhaps yours.

For more information or to get help, please call:
THE NATIONAL DOMESTIC VIOLENCE HOTLINE at 1-800-799-SAFE (7233)
THE NATIONAL SEXUAL ASSAULT HOTLINE AT 1-800-656-4673
All calls are anonymous and confidential.
For information on “Making a safety plan” go to website: http://www.aardvarc.org/dv/plan.shtml or visit The National Domestic Violence Hotline website: http://www.ndvh.org/
Keep in mind, all computer (and cell phone) use can be monitored; use a computer away from home!

VICTORIA HART-Freelance Writer