This is the platform where my innermost and heartfelt voice is shared publicly. And today my heart aches and  is sunken for the little children and the staff -- some parents themselves and brave teachers -- but especially the children whose innocent lives were shot short in the community of Newtown, Connecticut.

It's another tragic reality that we Americans have witnessed at the hands of a gunman. A gunman who in America found it easy enough to own a combat rifle. Then go out and use it, not for combat. For the murderous massacre of a kindergarten class tucked away in Newtown, CT.

Today, parents sent their children to one of America's institutions considered to be a safe haven for education... and they will never see their precious babies again.

GUNS DO NOT HAVE ANY REMISSIBLE PLACE IN OUR HANDS, OR IN OUR HOMES, OR IN OUR COMMUNITIES, OR IN OUR NATION!

But because there are organizations out there with loads of financial backup making loads of cash on weapons, we are told that these weapons will remain here whether we like it or not.

WHY CAN'T WE SAY ENOUGH AND STOP THEM DEAD IN THEIR TRACKS? Or how many more deadly tracks will follow in the wake of such tragedy? How many more gunmen will be allowed to take the lives of our loved ones -- of our most precious innocent lives?

I cry.  I pray.  I hold on to my faith. And for everyone suffering from this tragedy, I mourn with you.  I will do something about it starting with this here, my voice. And I encourage whoever reads this to join the many voices that will speak up to put an end to this incomprehensible right to sell and bear guns...THAT KILL.

Where do we start? I'm going to start by writing to our President, telling him we are done with guns and asking him to initiate legislation that removes guns from America for good. You could start there, too. Will you?

May perpetual light shine upon all the souls of those precious lives taken today by tragedy.

Until We Meet Again...

I was really moved by the recent passing of Jenni Rivera, the Mexican-American superstar of the genre Banda music.  No, I wasn't a die-hard fan.  As a matter of fact, I was not a fan at all.  It wasn't that I didn't like her, it was simply that the type of music she sang just isn't my taste.  But I knew of her, and I know people close to me that are big fans of her, and whenever I visit my mom and happen to catch a show of El Gordo y La Flaca or a television interview of Jenni Rivera I took an interest in her as a person and in her career. When I learned the news of her sudden death, I was first in disbelief. Speculation surrounding the circumstances of this tragedy swirled around in my thoughts. Then the confirmation made it real. In an instant she was gone.

Sixteen years ago today (on December 13, 1996) I experienced the loss of my father.  His death was also tragic in that no one had any forewarning.  He, like Jenni Rivera, was in another country when death came knocking.  I never got to say goodbye and the last time I had seen him was a few months before.  When the news hit our family, it shocked us all but affected us differently in that our personal relationship with him was individually distinct.  So much was left undone... unspoken... and some things even misunderstood. As for me, it was very hard to accept. I wanted to believe that when we arrived where my father was, I would see him possibly laying in a hospital bed at worst clinging to life, but not gone. Not laying on a cold steel table in next to nothing.  I had things I wanted to know, things I needed to say, things I needed to hear. But, seeing his body there listless already stone cold made it real.  In an instant, he too was gone.

My emotions come flooding back with the recollection of this memory.  I have since made peace with my father's passing. But, what the memory of this and the passing of Jenni Rivera does to me is bring me to the realization of the speckle of time we actually have to live; how suddenly we could be facing our last good-bye. One moment we are breathing, living, working, building relationships and in another moment we are gone. I know not all deaths are unexpected; some deaths are prolonged in instances of the progression of an illness (like my Aunt Rosa whom I loved so dearly and succumbed to cancer), but it doesn't take away the impression that death leaves us with -- sadness, loss, pain and emptiness. And for some the thought of "when it happens to me."

Recently my husband also lost his father -- his friend, his protector, his role model. My husband no longer lives in the country where his family resides, as such distance too played a role in this deep loss, as well as the words which were left unspoken and the inability to see him before his parting. And so it seems that apart from having to deal with the feeling and emotions we are left with individually, there is that ominous reality that we too will have to leave our loved ones to contend with our own mortality.

And if we know this, coupled with what we have experienced with our own departed loved ones it should not be stringent upon us to live each and everyday as it were our last good-bye.  The thought of all this is morbid, I know. Death is the last thing on our mind when we have responsibilities to tend to and problems to solve day in and day out.

All in all, I guess what I am attempting to get across is not that we should be anticipating death, rather we should be embracing life and the people in our lives closest to us should be imparted with the knowledge that we love them deeply, that we care for them dearly... and that if today were our last good-bye, it would be okay.

Something to think about...

In loving memory of my beloved father: Joe P. Aldana (Feb.20, 1930-Dec. 13, 1996)

In loving memory of my beloved aunt:  Rosa (Rosita) Diaz (Sep 1946-Apr 1999)

In memory of my husband's beloved father: Raymond Lowe (Sep. 24, 1926-Aug. 27, 2012)

And in loving memory of your departed loved ones.

These departed souls will forever remain a part of us.  Until we meet again.


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