Letters to the Moon....

Hello dear friend. I haven’t been able to talk to you for a while now. How are you? I am doing well. I have missed you so much Sally. I am sure that there were many things I didn’t get to know about you; now I will never have the chance. But, I’m sure there are things that you never knew about me. For example, I have a weird brain for dates. I remember when certain things happened. I can tell you the day I met E. I can tell you when M told me the truth and came out. I can tell you the day S and I met. I can also tell you when my friendship with him ended. I remember today, Sally. I remember that you left us two years ago. Today. So much has happened since I saw you last. I remember going to the hospital to see you. That would be the last time I would see you. And I knew it. I was sorry I couldn’t see you towards the end. I remember I was at work when we got the call. They called me in to the office, to give me some privacy, to tell me you had died. I

I have been thinking of late about writers, and what their role is. Also, what their talents are, or powers. Many people who are performers are writers. Every movement on stage has been written. Every note that is sung has been written. Every word in a soliloquy has been written. I have also been thinking about writers who write poems, books, stories. I recently discovered, or realized, that writers have the keys to the universe. We can make anything happen. There are infinite possibilities. We can create a universe. We can resurrect ancient Babylonians. We can make a fish fly, a bird swim. We can make a rainbow laugh, a mountain weep. We can make it rain upside down. We can make it snow. We can have that last conversation with our loved one in heaven. We can make the invisible visible. We can make the moon sing. Some might think that this makes writers godlike. I don’t believe that. I believe that the imagination is our creative toolbox, a treasure chest holding everyt

Today is St. Patrick’s Day around the world. Traditionally, this day was created to honor St. Patrick, who used the shamrock to teach Christianity. It has since then taken on a more worldly meaning, a celebration of the Irish culture and heritage. My pen name is Esperanza Habla, which is Spanish. However, I am an American, of Scottish, Irish and English descent. There are no holidays to celebrate the heritage of people from Scotland or England; all we have is Independence Day, an American holiday, and St. Patrick’s Day.  If you have a portion of Irish heritage in you, celebrate. If not, they say the whole world is Irish on St. Patrick’s Day. Celebrate.  There is something about the songs of your homeland, the music of your people. I was adopted and do not know my ancestry. However, when I was adopted, I took my family’s heritage. It seems to fit. Even if I had my DNA tested, I bet I would come from Great Britain. When I hear Celtic music, it fills me. My soul is truly ali

In the past month, I have noticed an unfortunate turn of events. One of my co-workers lost a loved one. An online friend broke up with their boyfriend of over a decade. Another co-worker lost a loved one. A friend’s fiancé died-they had been engaged ten years. You might be asking yourself what these incidents have in common. The answer is simple-loss. The subject of loss is one that I am familiar with. My cherished cat of seventeen years died last year. Also last year I lost my best friend-not to death, to life. Losses in life can be devastating things. They can send us into a spiral of pain and despair that can take months if not years to overcome. In the past month some of these friends who have experienced losses, or had family members who experienced the loss, have come to me and asked me for help. Even though the circumstances were different, there are some common phrases: “I don’t know what to do. What should I do? Tell me what to do.” Quite often we ask for somethin