❧❧❧ Whatever you can do or dream, you can BEGIN IT. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it. Goethe ❧❧❧
❧❧❧ You were born whole, not broken. Sandra Hammel ❧❧❧
Saturday, December 31, 2011
I GAVE MY SON A SONG FOR CHRISTMAS 2011 ~ UNTIL FOREVER ENDS
Christmas Eve December 24, Saturday, 2011 Photo credit: Sandra Hammel
Christmas Eve December 24, Saturday, 2011 Photo credit: Sandra Hammel
This is a public video, however the purpose of this song is for my son, which is a personal matter. He is 24 years old. Some bonds are deep, some never take at all. The bond that I feel with my son is the deep kind, that of hearts, spirits - between two souls. And he came into my life when he was 8 years old.
I am grateful for this special experience, this special bond.
One day, I hope to do this song with better voice. In the meantime, I upload what I did yesterday and include the live version that I sang for my son as one of his Christmas presents on Christmas Eve 2011, which was shot with the cheapest camera sold. I dream of having a decent camera one day. I just can't afford one.
This song was written December 14, 2011 for my son.
Until Forever Ends
Written by Sandra Hammel
Though we are two hearts, many years apart,
Our bond runs deep, deeper than the blue sea,
Now, you, you sail on,
I stand here and watch you take flight……
Every day, keep your passions alive, breathe free,
Do you have one person in your life that the bond would be unbelievable, if it wasn't actually happening to you?I do.I didn't look for this bond where I found it.I always wanted this bond to happen with one other person and expected or hoped it would happen in an intimate relationship.But that is not where it showed up.
The bond is organic, in that it is natural and just is.That doesn't mean that it has only been warm feelings, peaceful and always smooth. None of those things are true.Trying to understand his emotional pain, heartfelt best intentions to always be what I needed to be for this person, times of being on the receiving end of hurtful words are true. Importantly, the hurtful words are not definitive of who he is.He owns his mistakes.And this is a new experience for me. I feel heard when expressing my feelings.I have not witnessed this truthful and complete endeavor in others to be the best that they are in all parts of their life.More specifically, the introspection that he uses to be his best self, I have not seen before. Especially in the men I have known.
The connection is one that is deep in my soul.I believe it is reciprocal.It is a rich and complex relationship between two deeply-feeling and deeply-experiencing beings.I am so grateful to have this bond and to know the connection in the way that I do as a gift from this other spirit walking the earth at the same time that I am.
It is without pretense.There is genuine communication not only in a mortal way, but in a spiritual way.The sincerity he has is so healing for me to see in another human being.
Truthfulness is a hallmark of how we allow each other to be.It is stunning and beautiful and I am grateful.
Recently, each time I have brought a difficult conversation to him, he has shown himself to not only meet me fairly and with complete integrity, he has exceeded how I might have imaginedhim to show up and allow himself to be and allow me to see. The openness has been refreshing. As he has entered his young adult life and I have entered the autumn into winterseason of my life, he has shown glimpses of the most beautiful humanbeing I have ever known.We are now working through things with ourroles changing and I now can ask for things not possible when my role wasthe grown-up and he the, child.
We are approximately 40 years different in age.
He is my son.I didn'tgive him birth.But, if I had, we couldn't have been more connected with more of a bond.
December 28, 1997
Since my movie camera stopped working the day that he moved in, we went out and rented a movie camera to capture memories of the first Christmas together.
I haven't written very much here about my son. He is currently in his final year at an university in Boston and is graduating with two degrees in engineering, a Bachelors and a Masters.
Last night he came over for some conversation, a meal and to watch a movie. We watched The Last Station. And he liked it. I had already seen it a couple of times. He mentioned that he had gotten in touch with Cynthia Auckerman, a journalist whom we had met back in 2005. By searching the internet, he finally was able to read articles written about him by her. This is one of the articles that she wrote after meeting us on our trip back to his childhood...
On the evening of Aug. 12, 1991, four-year-old Jonathan raced to the site where his brother had been struck by a vehicle. Jeremy was lying stomach down, but his head was facing upwards, twisted in a grotesque way.
One young life that had been lived in chaos was over, but Jonathan's life was about to get even worse.
Jonathan lived in several locations, including Union City. Now adopted and living in Rhode Island, he visited the local area this summer to explore his childhood memories.
Now he's writing about his experiences in the hopes of dealing effectively with the burdens that chaotic childhood left behind. And maybe - just maybe- his story can help other hurting people and those who are trying to help them.
"My mother began to treat my brother and me as though it was our fault that Jeremy died. Every chance she got, she blamed us for the accident. Being so young, I believed what my mother told me because I trusted her. Now I realize that's what you do when you are a child; you automatically trust your mother."
Here's a lesson. No matter the degree of abuse or neglect, the child's bond with his mother is intense.
Even before the accident, life was already a kind of hell for Jonathan. After the accident, Jonathan's mother spent increasingly more time away from the four-year-old and his nine-year-old brother. The two boys were left to fend for themselves when the mother left them home alone for long periods of time.
The mother increased her use of drugs and alcohol and there were "grungy" men in the home.
"The smell of those men made me feel like throwing up," Jonathan says.
The physical burden of caring for himself at a young age wasn't the only hardship Jonathan faced.
"I had nobody to talk to about my grief, and at the age of four, I had to deal with the loss of my beloved brother on my own."
He began to feel anxious, confused and scared when the mother was around because she turned her anger on her surviving sons.
Before Jeremy's death, there were times when the mother was not drunk or high. At times, the mother made Jonathan feel loved. After the accident, the mother became a cold and unattached person who could not love her surviving sons.
"I was four years old without a loving mother. I fell into a feeling of hopelessness like a big black hole. I could not rely on my mother for anything, and I had to rely on my brother more and more as a parent."
His mother's degeneration led to the family having to move, with one stop being in a trailer in Union City.
Less than two years after his brother was killed, Jonathan watched his trailer home burn. With his mother screaming in the background and sirens wailing, he realized the dogs were still in the house. One dog survived, but the boys later learned their mother's boyfriend broke the neck of the other dog. The fire apparently was the result of a domestic fight between the mother and her boyfriend.
Jonathan's life was about to take an even worse turn. His mother decided to move in with her mother and stepfather. Jonathan's grandmother had abandoned her own daughter when she was 11.
Another lesson: child abuse and neglect is often handed down from one generation to the next.
Leaving her two sons alone with the grandparents, the mother pursued her lifestyle of drug and alcohol abuse.
"The abuse my brother and I endured from these grandparents was more emotionally damaging than either the fire or my brother's death," Jonathan says.
He is not yet comfortable with sharing that part of his life, except to say that his brother and he had only each other.
I was up in the west bedroom looking for a blank book that was still blank and having failed finding one, I opened some of my journals that I have already filled. I came across a couple of things that you wrote to me. And that is what made me want to write to you, now.
You are so very dear to me. In the beginning, I wrote you note after note saying affirmations to you. But now, I want to do the same. You are a very special human being. I am grateful our lives came together. The one letter laying between the pages of my journal, you wrote to me and it is so beautifully honest and real. When I got to the end and read your last sentence, I started to intensely feel the tears well up from deep in my chest and the tears filled my sinuses and tears filled my eyes. These were tears of feeling alive. There are times in life when you feel dead and there are times you feel so real and alive. I feel alive because we have shared our lives. This letter was before high school and although it has no date, it was when I was still in your life mothering you like a mother mothers a son.
I want you to know that I believe in your goodness and your gifts as a special human being. I hope you are having a good day. I love you, sweetheart.
Your Mom
The picture is you of course ~ at the restaurant after the court of your adoption proceeding
Dad and my son on the lake that dad made out of a corn field and a natural spring.
Dad around 1954
I was in a play called I Never Sang for My Father years ago. But I did. I sang for my father. When he was alive. We sang together, too. And I have sung for my father since he died seven months ago. There was something special that I had with my father. And now my feelings for him have become even more precious.
I was not allowed to see movies when I was growing up. Not counting the Disney movie, Bambi, that I finally was allowed to see after much debate with my second grade class on a field trip, the first real movie experience I had was when I convinced my parents to let me go see the movie The Sound of Music. My parents went with me and my dad loved Julie Andrews in the movie. ...............................................................
............................................................... The Lendler Uploaded by ArtHistory101
And then in November 2005, I visited Salzburg and walked some of the very places where the movie was shot. How cool is that! When I was in Villach, Austria, I stayed at a very nice hostel and one night a birthday party was being celebrated at the hostel. I was walking by the room and heard this fantastic harmonizing singing ~ it sort of blew me away. We have lost that in the USA. We used to sing the National Anthem at events ~ now we mostly just stand there and let someone else perform it without any audience participation. That is sad. Music is such a community thing. A joy we could give ourselves.
This is my first Christmas since my father left his mortal life behind. As sorrowful as I am that I was kept from him at the end of his life by my mother, I spent time with him on his last Father's Day June 18, 2006. When I returned home after visiting him in Indiana I wrote the following to him.
From your daughter Sandy, from Rhode Island
Dad
I will do the remembering for both of us.
I remember the first time you saw me and said my name, “Sandy”, when I surprised you, Sunday, Father’s Day.
I remember you closing your eyes, then opening your eyes, then your eyes looking into my eyes when I sang “The Old Rugged Cross” to you while you were lying down in your room on Monday.
I remember the slow- moving pain in your eyes when I told you of the day I would leave you.
I remember the big smile that you gave when I showed you the words “Rhode Island” on your wall and you saying “that will help”. I remember you spelling the word r-o-a-d.
I remember my prayer to God that we shared in your room and you said “that was a nice prayer.”
I remember the time you were lying on your bed, I mentioned your favorite song, “Go Tell It on the Mountain” And you starting singing the song by yourself and I sang along with you.
I remember the day we were walking through all the halls on the way to outside and you telling me it was the wrong way, then telling me that I was right three times as we continued walking on.
I remember you reading the road sign “Roanoke” when we were driving to Roanoke.
On my last day, it was hard on you, I could see. But you stood and told me you loved me, we hugged, you walked me down the hall. You were being my Dad.
We don’t always get what we want in life, but I still have you and that is my blessing.
You are still doing God’s work, teaching me.
We walked holding hands. Thank you for that. We kissed on the lips. Thank you for that. We shared love. Thank you for that. You needed my help and I was able to help. Thank you for that.
Thank you for the time we shared together. Thank you for your heart that you shared with me. Thank you for looking at me, eye to eye. Thank you for saying my name, “Sandy”. Thank you for the feelings that you shared with me. Thank you for letting me love you. Thank you for being so brave. Thank you for trying so hard.
Your brain is not serving you well, but your good spirit lives on. I will have your spirit with me always. I treasure our time together more than possessions.
I am so grateful to you, Your Daughter “Sandy from Rhode Island” Visit: June 18, Sunday, Father’s Day – June 23, Friday, 2006
Dad in the the hammock, my older brother Greg, me and my younger sister, Nancy .
When I first heard this song, it was before I adopted my son. He was one of hundreds of students I had at the time. I was his music teacher in school.
The song's lyrics ~
"If it all falls apart, I will know deep in my heart the only dream that mattered had come true: In this life I was loved by you" said what I felt.
Then when my father died, I put the lyrics to this song on the poster with all the pictures I displayed at dad's funeral.
When we love ~ we have found life's true purpose. There is nothing that compares with knowing how it feels to love another.
dad
son
The lyrics
. . . Let the world stop turning. Let the sun stop burning. Let them tell me love's not worth going through. If it all falls apart, I will know deep in my heart the only dream that mattered had come true: In this life I was loved by you.
For every mountain I have climbed, every raging river crossed, you were the treasure that I longed to find. Without your love I would be lost.
Let the world stop turning. Let the sun stop burning. Let them tell me love's not worth going through. If it all falls apart, I will know deep in my heart the only dream that mattered had come true:
In this life I was loved by you.
I know that I won't live forever, but forever I'll be loving you.
Let the world stop turning. Let the sun stop burning. Let them tell me love's not worth going through. If it all falls apart, I will know deep in my heart the only dream that mattered had come true: In this life I was loved by you In this life I was loved by you
>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>: Do Something Because to Do Nothing Is Wrong In the Biggest Possible Example of Human Kindness darfurgenocide.org dosomething
Special Message To You From Bette Midler
Dear Friends,
Like many of you, I have recently been deeply affected by the terrible suffering of the people of Darfur, Sudan. Over the last two years, over 380,000 people have died, and 2 million driven from their homes by a brutal campaign of repression by the Sudanese government. Darfur's women have been targeted for systematic rape and brutality.
This terrible inhumanity must stop. It affects all of us, because we are all connected in one human family. But to stop it you and I need to rise up and be heard. We CAN stop the killing, if we can persuade our government to put enough pressure on the Sudanese government and its allies to make them stop. Please take just 3 minutes today, right now, to send a strong message to President Bush, or donate money to advocacy or humanitarian aid.
I love my son. I miss my son. This is for him… ........................................................ ........................................................ http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VUoEil40qZA
I Will Always Love You
My son was adopted when he was eleven years old. The connection that I have always felt for him is innate and undeniable. I want to be in his life. I am here. I hope that one day he will find me someone that is vital to him. I carry his heart in my heart.
Adopted children all have a journey that is a reaction to having been released or abandoned by their birth parents, especially their mothers.
I never wanted children. In sixth grade I told my mother this. It was a response to what I read in the Weekly Reader, a children’s type of newspaper. The world just didn’t seem a fair place to bring a child into. My son entered my life. Then he entered my heart. I answered LIFE by making the move to be his mother. It hurts so much to be held at a distance. But apparently I am where I am to be. I have done the best that I could, all things considered. I have no regrets.
Children By Khalil Gibran
And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said, "Speak to us of Children." And he said: Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself. They come through you but not from you, And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you. You may give them your love but not your thoughts. For they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday. You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth. The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far. Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness; For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.
Love By Khalil Gibran
Then said Almitra, "Speak to us of Love." And he raised his head and looked upon the people, and there fell a stillness upon them. And with a great voice he said: When love beckons to you follow him, Though his ways are hard and steep. And when his wings enfold you yield to him, Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. And when he speaks to you believe in him, Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden. For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning. Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun, So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth. Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself. He threshes you to make you naked. He sifts you to free you from your husks. He grinds you to whiteness. He kneads you until you are pliant; And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast. All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart. But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure, Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor, Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears. Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself. Love possesses not nor would it be possessed; For love is sufficient unto love. When you love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, I am in the heart of God."
And think not you can direct the course of love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course. Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires: To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To know the pain of too much tenderness. To be wounded by your own understanding of love; And to bleed willingly and joyfully. To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving; To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy; To return home at eventide with gratitude; And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips. Gibran's Works: http://leb.net/~mira/works/prophet/prophet.html
Khalil Gibran (1883-1895)was born on January 6, 1883, to the Maronite family of Gibran in Bsharri, a mountainous area in Northern Lebanon.Bio: http://leb.net/~mira/bio/1.html
It was a day in late October in the year of 1995. I met Mrs.D's second grade class in the hall as I did every class in order to do the symbolic hand-off of who's in charge for the up-coming music class. Mrs. D said "We have a new boy and he's from Boy's Town and . . ." Jon was born in August in the year of 1987. I became Jon's mentor in school and became friends with his foster family.
While lost on the way home from a church Halloween roller skating party, this song played on the car radio. The line in the song that says "just give me something that I can hold on to..." caught Jonathan's ear.
In the spring, Jon began piano lessons with me and he was allowed to do things outside of school with DCYF (Department of Children, Youth and Families) authorization. The next school year Jon was to get his "forever family" and left our school and community in the fall to live with his new family. I cried in my walk-in closet many times after Jon left.
This song "In This Life" meant a lot to me during this time. The video makes no sense for my purpose here, but the words do.
"Let the world stop turning. Let the sun stop burning. Let them tell me love's not worth going through. If it all falls apart, I will know deep in my heart the only dream that mattered had come true: In this life I was loved by you."
Early next spring, on March 7, 1997, I received a call from Jon's case worker that he was coming back to our school system and would be living with the same foster family that he had left before the adoption placement. On Christmas Day in 1997 at 4:00 p.m., Jon came to live with his new "forever family". On March 8, 1999 Jon was legally adopted. Today, March 8, Jon has been my son for eight years.
Jon is my only. I chose not to have children when I was very young because I didn't want to bring children into this problem-filled world. The journey with Jon has been touching, raw, painful, extremely tough and rewarding. I can with all honesty and sincerity say that he enriches my life. I know his journey will hold many levels of discovery. . . his life has so many layers. I am pleased and proud to be his mother. As a freshman at Northeastern University's Engineering School he received all A's except for one A- first semester. Jon is a hard-working and honest student.
This picture was taken at Spain tonight.
Tonight, I took Jon to my favorite restaurant, Spain, in Narragansett, Rhode Island. The conversation included his courses, his girl friend, a possible trip to Europe with her, his co-op/intern semester next spring, summer job plans, movies, where he stands on his beliefs, politics, homosexuality and what he thinks of my beliefs. In the end, we pretty much stand together on the issues.
Being a kid today is full of pitfalls. And for those kids that have parents who fall completely short of their responsibilities as parents, life is so demanding of resilience. I knew when I met Jon that if any kid could make it against all of the odds that were stacked against him - Jon could.
And he continues to prove that right. I am so grateful to be a part of his life and play my part for his goodness and for my growth.
I love my life. It hasn't been a life at the beach with Jon, but now I can and will say, it has proven that my strong sense of natural connection with Jon in the beginning was right and still holds true. I listened to my heart in 1995 and now in 2007, I am all the more richer in my heart.
Love, Mom
>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>: Dedicated to my son >:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:
A-ah...let's hear Amanda Marshall in another version of "I Believe in You"
I love my life. I love where I live. And I am passionate about my passions. I love to dance. Necessary to live: music, piano, singing, writing, acting, painting.
I have been fighting for and supporting the arts all my adult life. Since 2004, I have been working with other activists to end the Darfur genocide.
I have traveled to Europe many times since my early twenties. Places I have been: many USA states including Hawaii, Montreal, Canada, Barbados, France, Spain, Luxembourg, England, Austria, Switzerland, Italy, Greece and Germany - and have wonderful memories.
My last trip was in May - June 2013 to Spain.
I would like to travel to Europe and Kyoto, Japan.
I love the southwest where I have visited Hopi, Navajo, Zia and San Idlefonso potters.
Life is exciting and I intend to live it full-out to the end.
B.S. and M.M., both in music
................................................
Khartoum, Sudan Stop Genocide Time
................................................
Spain Time
................................................
Melbourne Time
................................................
Hawaii Time
...............................................
...............................................
RAFA NADAL -BRING BACK LONG PANTS - SLEEVELESS TOPS
Double Click on Videos to Enlarge
Darfur - The Abandoned Genocide - a video by Sandra Hammel
Want to help? Call 1~800~GENOCIDE
"May I Suggest" by Susan Werner
Satchita - Playing for Change
Stand By Me ~ Playing for Change
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Genocide is not only a word,
it is crying of the whole human race.
There is nothing redeeming about being silent
when speaking up is the humane thing to do.
The honor and integrity of the human race is at stake.
Like many of you, I have recently been deeply affected by the terrible suffering of the people of Darfur, Sudan. Over the last two years, over 380,000 people have died, and 2 million driven from their homes by a brutal campaign of repression by the Sudanese government. Darfur's women have been targeted for systematic rape and brutality.
