I weep for San. He taught me much, and yet he his heart and spirit is trapped behind such a system.
A system that chooses to be unaware of the suffering of our children, yet chooses to be highly aware of perceived insult to itself.
A system which finds mention of things a greater wrong than the doing of them.
But this time I am not struggling to keep a child alive within me; not pregnant with San’s child; not unawares and alone. One may hope I will not be in hospital so many times, sitting with an ill father and such. This time I have friends and I know myself as a mother and a woman, beyond a wife and a bed-mate.
So this time, I do not weep so much for me.