In an opportune post written by DJ Rama at Journey Folki community, Rama exalted the Goddess. His post was made in love and appreciation of beauty of the Divine Mother. You can read it here.
Everything was going well, until a fundamentalist bigot (Totus) came along and started spouting dribble by calling us names and falsely accusing us. He was adamant about using logic and reasoning, but the only reasoning I saw him use was circular-reasoning, lol.
DJ Rama eloquently responded to the asinine attack of the so-called Christian. My response is posted below. I have added inside square brackets [ ] comments so that the discussion may make sense to the reader. I have added in bold the crux of my argument.
(I repeated on saying, "I will excuse your ignorance" because I was being cheeky, lol, since Totus was adamant about how ignorant we were about the subject.)
Totus: "Yes, the world needs love, but this whole 'resurrected godess' idea is nonsense."
Me: Maybe you haven't heard of the Goddess before. But our Romani Clans have been worshipping the Goddess for millenia. I excuse your ignorance. Are you of Romani background?
Totus: "I would love to know where the reason is behind her."
Me: You lack sincerity to know the reason, Totus. You spend a post disparaging a Goddess belief, and yet you want to learn the reason behind Her? You will only see reason if you are willing to be taught. Which, by all accounts, it seems you are closed minded to the ideology of the Goddess. So it seems you are not here to even consider our point of view, as you said, "One can't reason her out. Shes not real. She doesn't exist."
Totus: "Nature [referring to the Goddess] is simply a creation of God."
Me: The Goddess is not Nature. I will excuse your ignorance.
Totus: "It [creation] doesn't have a soul or anything else."
Me: What composes nature? Do animals compose nature? If so, why would Elohim give animals "nephesh", that is, soul (Genesis 1:30)? I will excuse your ignorance.
Totus: "Sounds to me like a group of very uneducated people have smuggled themself into a belief that whatever they will to be truth is truth."
Me: You are jumping to presumptuous assumptions. I will excuse your ignorance.
Totus: "There is only one God. There has to be."
Me: For your information, I believe in One God. We have believed in One God since we have believed in the God and Goddess. If you don't understand the Duality of God, do you then understand the Trinity of God?
Totus: "Reason and logic does not allow there to be more than one [that is, reason and logic does not allow there to be a God and a Goddess]."
Me: Allow me to use the Christian Canon to respond to your "reason and logic".
Young's Literal Translation of Genesis 1:26-27, "And God saith, 'Let Us make man in Our image, according to Our likeness, and let them rule over fish of the sea, and over fowl of the heavens, and over cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that is creeping on the earth.' And God prepareth the man in His image; in the image of God He prepared him, a male and a female He prepared them."
Allow me to elaborate on these verses for those who find the reading of the Christian Canon a little baffling: 1. God here is transliterated as "Elohim". 2. Elohim is a plural form of God - technically speaking, the word Elohim possesses a plural intensive syntax. Hence, the "Our" and "Us" references to God. 3. Elohim decided to create "man". The transliteration of "man" in this verse is "'adam" and the word is best translated as "humanity". I digress to explain this to reveal the male dominated influence which often caused a mis-translation of the Bible, which steered away from Truth and rather propagated a False Religion. 4. "Man", or better said, "Humanity" was created IN THE IMAGE OF GOD. 5. The IMAGE OF ELOHIM is expressed in both MALE and FEMALE (Duality).
Elohim is represented in the flesh by the archetype of male and female. Elohim is God. Elohim is Goddess.
The Christian Canon is very clear on this. There are many references in Hebrew manuscipts and history of a Goddess. Who and what are not clear are institutes and people who twist the Scriptures for their male-oriented, spiritually imbalanced and malicious purposes.
Totus: "The point of my post is Rama, your contradicting yourself more than anyone else I have ever met or read, and I wish to pose the question as to how, in logic and reason, can the existence of "the goddess" be explained. It can't. The unthought through "beliefs" you speak of Rama have no basis at all, except that they were made up centuries ago."
Me: Totus, I believe that Rama knows exactly what he is saying - we have talked extensively on the subject. However, I only see you making assumptions, proving your ignorance, and clearly coming into a discussion with prejudiced and biased views of God.
Totus: "History does not even support the goddess. Although, history, logic, and reason all support God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit."
Me: Totus, what historical references do you have that don't support the Goddess? Please make some quotes, I'll be very interested what they are. I'm sure you will find some great historical accounts where history doesn't support the Goddess since you are such an educated and learned man, as you clearly imply. Good luck on your search. I'm wondering, have you even considered Mesopotamian, Egyptian, Oriental, American and Australasian, Greek, Eastern and Western European, and so on, history? How can you say that history doesn't support the Goddess when all the histories of these civilisations do?
Totus, you want to be convinced? But by your very attitude, you don't come here with a desire to learn, but rather disparage. Quite sad really. I wonder if you could have a civil discussion without belittling us or disparaging our beliefs? I would then be most glad to continue discussing with you.
Romanies, in times past (but not always), haven't documented their history, lore, traditions, beliefs and customs. In the Western mind, this is uneducated and uncivilised. It lowers us to the level of primitives, but hey, even primitives used to leave some form of history on cave walls, right? *chuckles at my own satire*
I find this very humorous, because it seems that humanity (Roma and Gadje included) cannot seem to stop making hasty assumptions. If people just stopped to educate themselves, they would know that there is more to the world than their closed minded reality.
I can only imagine how diverse and different other cultures are. And when I don't understand them in a way, I assume the best, and venture forth with an open minded, humble, and willing-to-be-taught mentality. I try and find, if possible, people of the culture in question and get to know them. This, I have done countless of times with various cultures around the world, and I have never been disappointed at the depth of knowledge and wisdom I find in them.
Personally, I don't think that our way of recording information is any better than anyone else, but it is our way of doing things. And we do this through oral lore. This hasn't always been our sole method, but due to certain religiopolitical reasons in times past, it was crucial for our folki (people) to keep our traditions privy from the world.
Through oral lore, information is passed down by word of mouth. Some may think that this is a stupid way of doing things. I say, are you so stupid that you need to write everything down? lol (excuse my dry sense of humour).
The following points are the mechanics of my family's and related Clan's method of passing down oral lore.
*** We spend much more time communicating with our elders during childhood through to adulthood. Communication is very important to us. Just ask some of my friends I know in real life and are in the internet how it is every time we get together, and how I am when I talk to my mother - we communicate in a levels humans find... intensely disturbing, for lack of a better word.
*** Our attention span and memories are trained and well developed. Recalling and remembering is schooled in every child, including remembering "past lives". Rhiannon has helped me a lot to open up memories dormant in my DNA Akashic record. I'm not surprised, she was given the mark of "Recall and Remember", and it is tattooed on her lower leg.
*** We understand the concept of Word Power. This is my term for a concept that I'm not at liberty to share because it is very powerful magic for our people, and we know that powerful magic is not passed down to just anyone. Word Power is more effective than words recorded on corruptible and tangible things.
*** There are Elders trained to objectively tap into the Akashic record, giving us crucially important information such as our geneologies, history, in every minute detail. Beats reading a sterile record, when you can actually live the past. Not documenting our history and traditions allows us to live in the "NOW". Living in the "NOW" is crucial to humans who are interdimensionally aware. There is no past, there is no future, it is simply, "NOW". Time is a 4D concept - we are not limited to 4D.
*** Following from the previous point, living in the "NOW" allows us to survive and adapt in ways that other cultures cannot. You cannot live the Old Ways without modernising! It's called the Old Ways, not Dead Traditions.
These points are very concise and would take some people a couple of lifestimes to fully understand. But I know that we have a gathering here of enlightened individuals who aren't foreign to the above concepts.
If you do not understand, ask. The purpose of my blogs is to learn from each other.
From my understanding, never before have Romanies of the Old Ways shared their beliefs before a global audience. Please understand that we cannot share everything. I am lucky to be well versed in various occult orientations and I try and use terminologies that are acceptable and understood by the majority to make this learning process easier, and to also accomodate for the things that I'm not at liberty to fully share.
Take advantage of this unique opportunity to ask us any questions you want. You wont know until you ask!
This said, I'm going to go and find a cave to do some finger painting. *snickers*
Have you ever felt like the hand of the gods was upon you? That you were in the hands of destiny? I have, and it has not always been easy. Sometimes I would scream out, hands clenched, unwanted tears spurting from my eyes in frustration and annoyance. Many times I asked the Spirits, "Why me?" I felt no unworthy, so... ordinary. Then, as it happens in our journey in life, an epiphany gleamed in my mind, and I could only exclaim "Eureka!"
Yes, I had found it. The answer that was there all along, the dangling carrot of self-realisation, like tumbling breakers in an ocean it crashed over me, and I, like the tide, gravitated towards the light of illumination. The answer was so simple. I did not need to concern myself with "Why me?" anymore, I realised, "Why not me?"
My mother was just beginning to blossom into a young lady when her most beloved father was murdered whilst protecting an innocent. My grandfather, Dr. Carlos, loved my mother deeply, and if it could be said that he had a favourite amongst his nine surviving children, my mum was the one. My mum wasn't the best looking child, not that she was unattractive! It's just that her sisters were eerily gorgeous. My mum wasn't the healthiest, in fact, she spent most of her childhood indoors sick and taking care of her siblings, acting in every way as a second mother in her household. And still, grandpa had a special place for her in his heart. My mother may have been seen as unfortunate in some ways, but did not lack intelligence. It was her keen mind and spiritual disposition which attracted my grandpa.
As a child, my grandfather would take my mother to the Palace in Santiago, Chile. My grandpa had a special relationship with the Chilean President, Carlos Ibáñez del Campo. Not only did they share the same Christian name, but they were both medicinally and martially trained. It is said that President Campo sought my grandpa's counsel. My mother would also give counsel on certain matters, that only an enlightened child could give.
My grandpa was Rom Baro of our Kumpania, a very important man. He had great compassion for the suffering. He was a doctor, specialising in endocrinology, he was esteemed highly for his skills since most Romanies I know avoid hospitals like the plague! Often he would pack his horse and ride into the Andes, taking care of the Mapuche, one of the native peoples of Chile. Needless to say he was also very well respected by the Mapuche. Once, my mother saw that my grandpa had a book tugged in his belt before he ventured into one of his expeditions.
"What is that book there Papito?"
"It is a very special book, Catita. It reveals the people of Jehovah on Earth."
"And have you found who these people are Papi?"
"No, daughter, but you will."
And so, my grandpa divined my mother's destiny for sure enough, my mother became the first Christian in our family after her daddy passed away.
It happened that my mother's life was further divined when our Phuri Dai asked to meet her. My mum was 8 years old, as always, an observant and inquisitive child, unpretentious and pure. She sat by our Phuri Dai, looking up at her weathered face, the lines on her countenance looked like Vardo (wagon) tracks on a well travelled Drom (road).
"Phuri Dai?"
"Yes daughter?"
"Why is it that we claim to have so much power and abilities and yet most of us live as outcasts and in poverty?"
The Phuri Dai looked sternly into my mother's eyes, and then her face split into raucous laughter. As the Phuri Dai finished wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes, she performed a Dukkering.
"Catita, you and other chavvies chosen by the Spirits will grow up to be the salvation of our people. We have suffered much, and you will continue suffering your own pain and struggles, but it will be different to our sorrow. You will grow up learned and live amongst the Gadje."
And it was so. My mother was the first generation Christian in our Kumpania. She was ridiculed because she was always sick due to her weak disposition. Her sisters, who also integrated into Gadje society, but held onto their ancient gods and goddesses mocked that her Jehovah could not take care of her.
"Look at us, Cati. We have money and health, and we are growing in power each day. What has your God done for you? You are always sick, and will become nothing."
Surely my aunties were growing in power. Most of them became millionaires, and my Aunty Eli married into the Rothschild family and is a baroness of Puerto Rico. And yet, today, all of them are suffering from chronic illnesses and sicknesses. My mother taught me that the greatest riches one can have is within, and that is ones spirituality and health. Who is the richest? I would say that it is my mother, for she has now riches that will never fade away. She passed onto me something that she has laboured to pass onto all her children - something eternally valuable - spirituality.
Many years down the road, my parents had reached a positive break in life. Things had been so difficult for them in the beginning. Marxism plagued the country, and it made it difficult for my mother's Christian beliefs to survive and make a living. And when things were thought to hit rock bottom in the government, the dictator Pinochet became President of Chile, bringing about a wave of tyranny over the land. Still, my parents fought ahead, as my mother says, "Up and down, but always forward." My father found a great job as an architect and building contractor. They both settled down with my three older brothers.
It was during this time, 1976, that my mother felt the motherly need to bear another child. Her sister Eli had a baby son who was dying, no doctors could help him. He had a weak gastroesophageal sphincter and could not hold any food down. Slowly and surely my uncle was withering away. My Aunty Eli's husband advertised in South America that he would pay any amount of money for someone to heal his son. Some tried and all failed.
When my mother heard about her nephew she asked to heal him, no cost. My mother's first three children had the same problem, and all of them survived. Unsurprisingly, and yet with much effort, my mum healed my uncle. It took three months of intense care (my uncle temporarily lived with my family). During this time my mother became very attached her baby nephew. Life was going very well for her, and she decided to have a child, me.
My mother tells me I was the only child that she had because she truly wanted a child, and not because she accidentally became pregnant. C'est la vie. I just hope my brothers never read this! I was her Prince, and to this day she calls me such. I was her perfect baby, with no gastroesophageal problems, perfect in proportion and nature.
When I was born I only made enough cries to clear my lungs, and I never cried again until I was 3 years old - when I was hit by a car. I would squirm and call out and make grunting and funny noises, but I didn't cry.
The car accident taught me to cry. After I was hit, I was lying on the road, I felt weird. I stood up to walk over to my father who was running towards me, only to collapse due to a broken upper femur. I didn't cry then, it did feel weird though.
I was taken to a sterile hospital. Gawd I hate hospitals. My leg was set, and my only comfort and solace was the constant presence of my mummy during that day. But, life had a cruel lesson to teach me - the lesson of bearing loneliness.
That night my mother had to leave the hospital since it was hospital regulation that no visitors, including family, stay after hours. And then I felt pain as my mother was saying goodbye, and walking away. I could not bear being away from her, my only comfort and love in my life. She looked so very sad and it broke my heart because I wanted to make her feel better and in return feel her arms around me. And yet, she continued to walk away.
A feeling I had never experienced tore through me and I cried. I cried as though all the years I had not cried lay dormant only to break forth at that moment. And my little three year old heart broke. And I knew loneliness.
My mother tells me that she could hear my screams of anguish as she was going down the elevator.
"Maaaaaaammmmmiiiitttttaaaaaaaaa! No te vallas Mamita! Maaaaammmmiiiittttaaaaaaaa!"
Mummy! Don't leave Mummy - my screams seared her soul. My dear mother, how much I love her.
And this was the first time my mother and father's hair turned a little grey. It was a very trying time for my mother, and I thank her to this day for making the sacrifices she made for me.
My mother told me as an adult that Jehovah came to her in a vision during this time. Jehovah said that He wanted to keep me a cripple, for when I grew up I would stand in arrogance against Him. He wanted to humble me, subdue me. My mother could not bear it, for I was her Prince. She made a sacrifice, gave something up, which assured that I would be healed.
It was a miracle, my healing. Months after the accident, after I learnt to walk again, you could not even tell I had been through what I did.
When I was eight years old, we moved to Australia. A new chapter in my life, for not until my adulthood could I again remember my life in Chile. We were the only family in our Kumpania to move at first, and then 2 years later, my Uncle Enrique and Aunty Gloria with my three cousins and grandmother from my mother's side, moved to Australia. We only spend a couple of years near each other, and then my uncle moved nine hours away with his family. The rest of the years I spent in Australia the only family I knew was my immediate family, my four brothers and my parents. Needless to say, no matter how bad things got between us brothers at home, outside, we were the tightest of friends!
Australia brought me a little closer to my destiny. My mother truly had fulfilled the Phuri Dai's words - she had very well integrated into Gadje society. No one knew we were Romanies, not even her children. We lived like Romanies, we ate like Romanies, we dressed like Romanies, in fact, we were Romanies, except for name. In my youth, it was I who discovered our roots. My father was the only one that would give me hints, teaching me a little here and there of the language of the Gitanos. We would spend hours during and after sunset listening to Romani music - the music moves my father's soul like nothing else does. I guess it is only one of the few things he could still take pleasure in, being away from all our Kumpania.
Every single event in my life is as it should be. As is every single event, no matter how tragic or aspiring, for every human being. It's just that most people don't comprehend that. I had to grow up not knowing my roots, because this is exactly what the Lacy Clan Elders and the Mihalascu Clan Elders wanted for their daughters. Polyamorous relationships are uncommon in the Lacy Clan, but they are a rarity in the Mihalascu Clan. But, as my High Priest explained, I had been chosen generations before my birth to be Rhiannon and Elaina's Rom.
I was raised not knowing my roots, and yet, naturally living the Old Ways. My teachers were the Spirits, nature (within and without), and my parents. It wasn't easy, sometimes I thought I was crazy for I didn't know anyone who lived as I did. But I wasn't going to be left in the dark all my life.
When I was twenty-four years of age, my High Priest called me to New Zealand. I had a house, a car, a job, a family I cared about. But the moment my High Priest called me, I did what I had to do and was in New Zealand within a fortnight.
This was one of those rebirth moments in life, another chapter opened up. I cannot delve into detail about my experiences in New Zealand because this is when my training occurred and nearly every day was filled with esoteric happenings that are privy to only those I truly trust.
My life took shape during this time. I matured (despite me thinking that I had already reached maturity, but today I understand that maturity is a growing process). I was being prepared to stand as my High Priest's right hand man, and Rom to Rhiannon and Elaina.
It was during this time that I truly screamed out, "Why me?" I had felt the calling of destiny all my life, but now it was bubbling to the surface like never before! I felt so ordinary. I felt ordinary because I had suddenly come into the presence of very important and esteemed people. You see, my High Priest is High Priest of High Priests. He is honoured in both the Lacy, Rumnichel and Mihalascu associated Natsia, amongst others. Rhiannon is from a royal bloodline, her grandfather is High Priest of her Kumpania and Vitani is Queen of her Clan.
One day I came to realisation, "I didn't ask to be handed this cup. So if I think I'm ordinary and unworthy, tough shit, I didn't choose me. The Spirits did, and they must have a reason!"
That really helped accept my destiny, and I embraced my fate for all it's worth! I lost much and gained much to reach the desired state that I'm in today, but it has all been more than worth it. When I look into my son's eyes, when I hold him to my cheek and feel his little heart pumping away, when he grabs my hair and pulls it, squealing in delight, when he cries and I can comfort him with unconditional love, patience and compassion. It has all been truly worth it. For it's not really about me, it's not really about who I was to marry. All my life, every moment and event led to who and what my children would be.
It's about the children. It's about the preservation of our folki, our Old Ways. As the Phuri Dai said, it is about the salvation of her people. Last year, on January the 11th, Rhiannon told me in depth about her Clan. Before that, I just thought she came from just another traditional Romani Clan. On that special day, I was blown away. Isis channeled through her and explained deeply their spiritual beliefs, who they were, where they came from, what their traditions where, why we were chosen to be lovers. And yes, I was so blown away for I had truly found the people I had sought all my life. The people I was destined to be - Romani Followers of the Old Ways. Shemsu Fenix.
Intimate stories always excite me with their juicy details. This is one of those stories, full of strange places, crazy people, ardent love, and new beginnings. It's about a Princess's prearranged marriage to a Rom brat - me.
Rhiannon is daughter of an Irish Traveller Queen. Her grandfather is High Priest of her Clan, and very well respected by the Traveller and Romani followers of the Old Ways. It was they who arranged my marriage with my High Priest.
I was in New Zealand when I first learnt of Rhiannon. I was getting desperate for a wife. You see, I don't sleep around - I find it dirty to have one night stands with strangers, so I was getting a little blue balled!
My High Priest would make fun of me, saying that I often looked horny enough to run out into the street and have my dirty way with a wooden telephone pole. I can't honestly say he was completely far from the truth.
I guess he took pity on me and allowed me to know the most trivial information which was supposed to be some sense of comfort. He confided that my wife would have green green eyes and red hair. I didn't want to know her physical appearance, I wanted to know the real beauty within my One to Be. He simply mentioned that she would be open-minded. That was good enough for me. And then he mentioned some details of where we would meet and I now believe that he did that for his own warped amusement.
You see, I knew what she would somehow look like, and that we would meet at street markets, by a large river. I was currently living in Cambridge, New Zealand, and sure enough, every weekend of the first week of each month the main street in town would close up for street markets. And Cambridge happened to be beside a large river. To my desperate-for-some-lovin' self, Cambridge fit the description!
I was desperate enough to walk to the markets every month, staring into every single lady's eyes with red hair, looking for those green green eyes.
Two years later! Yes, good things come to those who wait. Two years later, we were permitted to meet online. By that time, I was so horny my neighbourhood dogs were traumatised by my very scent! Meeting online made the desired connection to then meet in the Astral.
Green green eyes stared down at me, from a gorgeous Romni's, porcelain white, radiating countenance. Like liquid fire emeralds, burning me, branding me, marking me as her ancient soul mate. When Rhiannon asked about me, she was told I was her soul mate - simply that. She wasn't told she would marry me, or love me, or fall in love with me. I was simply her soul mate.
Those green eyes captivated me in the Astral. And those green eyes were whom I have come to know as Rhiannon. I knew I would fall in love with her. I had always known that she was my soul mate, since the day I could think about such things, I have known. It was only a matter of time when I would meet her.
After we met in the Astral I couldn't wait any longer. I packed my bags and within a fortnight I had made my tickets where I would meet Rhiannon in America, while she visited family.
She didn't believe that I would do that. She thought no one was that crazy to just meet someone and then go to the extent of all that trouble. She obviously didn't know me very well then.
We met in Syracuse, Nebraska, July 19st, 2005. Dark Reverend (guy I met in the internet) took me to her place from Omaha airport.
I remember knocking on her apartment door, the anticipation, the energy buzzing in my heart.
She remembers opening the door and seeing me in the shadows, she couldn't even see Dark Reverend due to my dark aura. And that's me, Romano-Calo, Dark Rom to the core.
I remember writing in my journal my first impression of my first day with Rhiannon.
July, 20th, 2005
I am sitting in the home of my love. The spiritual battles have been going accordingly. We stand strong and victorious so far. We will conquer!!!
Rhiannon is more than I imagined. How can it be?
Being more, I stand guarded... it's a natural instinct. An instinct I have to abolish. She is far stronger than I expected. She hides her abilities from me... a quiet one, as my Master, as expected as one of rank... does she even know? Maybe intuitively.
Life has been harmonious. Peaceful. And thoroughly enjoyable.
Rhiannon's potential is absolute. I must believe in her. But to do so, I must sink and die. Will the sacrifice be met?
As certain Roma do, I tend to do dukkering (divination) in my writings. And my impressions did come about.
Rhiannon and I had the intent of adopting two children of Rhiannon's deceased cousin. However, when I stepped in, certain members of Rhiannon's family, who had been expelled from the Clan stepped in and started to cause problems.
My mother dreamt that I would be surrounded by big men who wanted to hurt me and asked me not to fight them.
After her malevolent family members started causing trouble between us, saying that I would not take their niece away from them. They didn't want Rhiannon and I to have children. These people would do anything to keep us apart.
I could see that we were in a position were we would have to battle and cry and bleed to learn to trust and love each other. We were in the lion's den, without any aid from our loved ones, to either sink or swim.
After a few days together, some of her uncles and friends came around, dressed in their biker outfits and kicked me out on the street in a town in the middle of nowhere. Rhiannon was hoping I wouldn't hurt them in case they called the police on me. She intuitively new I'm not a happy man when the authorities are involved. My heart pounded in excitement, I had anticipated this and had all my bags ready and I knew the Spirits always worked for the good. Rhiannon and I said our farewells and parted. I followed my mother's advice and walked off quietly, with a cheeky smirk on my face.
Rhiannon was heartbroken. I forgot to give them the keys to the apartment and she came to get them from the library where I was killing time, figuring out what to do. She walked in and pain and hurt were etched on her face. I wanted to hold her, tell her it was ok; but all we could share was sweet pain.
I simply gave her the key, and wished her well. I wanted to do more, I wanted to take her away, in an instant, from all the shit that had come our way. But something held me to my seat, as I saw her turn away and leave.
I wasted no time thinking on the pain and sorrow. It was time to use my resourcefulness. Within an hour I had found shelter and food. I ended up moving around this new land, America, staying at a couple of people's places in Indiana and Alabama.
Rhiannon somehow got a hold of the number to the places I was staying, and she called me often. We missed each other so much, but knew we had to be apart for a while.
Life can be a cruel teacher at times. We lost a baby. It hurt so much that I could not comfort Rhiannon during this time, the memory still burns. On the phone we both shed tears for our daughter. After that, my heart started to soften. My stubborn heart genuflecting to the teacher of cruel lessons.
After being apart from each other for a month and a half, I returned back to Rhiannon, on the condition that we would not allow her expelled family to get involved in our lives.
It would be a lie if I told you that it was a "and they lived happily ever after" ending. We did go through our ups and downs, but this time we did it together, working at it together, sticking side by side, never parting, embracing for all that it is worth.
We knew we truly wanted to be husband and wife. I remember seeing my darlin' angel, sitting on the lawn steps, waiting for me as I arrived after being away for over a month. With her red hair, green eyes, and heart of a Goddess.
We stayed at peoples houses with corny names, such as Socorro (Helper) and Refugio (Refuge), the psychotic drunk lady, Teresa, who wanted our hot bodies, and Angel. Thankfully my mother ended up inviting us to stay in Florida, since she had traveled to America to do some work, and she was also very keen in meeting her daughter (technically, daughter-in-law, but my mother doesn't make a distinction).
We still had emotional scars, but love of loves was doing its healing magic. We were becoming very close friends.
We often joke that we have been through a lot of valleys, but one of the most difficult is living in Miami! We are both used to the country, the forests, the mountains, the waterfalls, the change of seasons, bright starry skies, fresh air, quietness, nature in all its riches.
All I have now is praises in my heart. We share deep emotions for each other. We feel like we have known each other for hundreds of years, and often spend hours reminiscing and talking with each other. I like to do everything with her, my wife fulfills me in every way, as I know she is fulfilled by me.
We now have a beautiful chavito, Kayne. He is our love in the flesh. I wish you could all meet him and just stare into his eyes - they will move you to the core.
I can see my two hearts sleeping in bed this very moment. I see my Princess lying there, topless, with baby lying beside her. Such peace and I know I'm the most blessed man in the world.
I remember the dukkering, "Rhiannon's potential is absolute. I must believe in her. But to do so, I must sink and die. Will the sacrifice be met?" And I realise that, yes, I did sink and die, for only when I humbled and sacrificed myself did I become man enough to deserve the love of my Goddess.
Oh, by the way, I'm no longer horny. Ever. *smirks*
This story, written at the wee hours of the morning, because I felt like it. ZzzZZZzzzZZZ
Ten tipsy gypsies set off for adventure one summer day. A few steps down the road, they met a man selling tambourines. He told them that he wasn't having much luck selling his tambourines, and that unless he sold at least one today, then he would have no supper.
The ten tipsy gypsies invited the tambourine salesman to hop on board and tag along with them. They sealed a bargain with the salesman who agreed that he would allow the gypsies to use his tambourines to entertain crowds and in turn, they would feed him. So the salesman hopped on board.
As the tipsy gypsies and salesman bounced along the trail in the gypsy wagon, the salesman silently congratulated himself for the ingenious scheme he had used on the tipsy gypsies. Once they made camp and night fell, the salesman planned to rob them, then cash in on his takings.
The gypsies were wearing a good deal of jewelry that looked quite expensive, and the table inside the gypsy wagon held a mystic crystal ball that the salesman was certain would bring a lot of money.
By and by, the tipsy gypsies and the tambourine salesman met a man walking down the lane in a humble manner. When the gypsies addressed him, he told them his sad story, "Tonight, the full moon rises and this man will be no more until the setting sun."
The salesman thought the stranger must have been out in the sun for too long because his words were a confused bag. Nonetheless, the gypsies seemed to understand the man's situation and invited him to join them - which the stranger gladly did.
Night fell quickly and as the tipsy gypsies soaked up precious embers of sleep, the salesman began cleaning out the wagon, stuffing the jewelry and crystal ball into the hempsack that once contained cheap, tin tambourines.
He was a hair away from home-free when he was clasped by the nape of the neck by the humble man the gypsies had invited to join them on their journey - only the stranger wasn't so humble anymore, and he looked more beast than man.
As the tipsy gypsies slept in peaceful slumber, the not-so-humble werewolf enjoyed a tasty but tough side of Tambourine Salesman for supper. Come morning, all of the gypsies belongings were back in their proper places. The werewolf and gypsies continued their journey and enjoyed a friendship that lasted a lifetime.
Moral of the story: You can fool some of the gypsies some of the time, but you can never out-wolf a werewolf.
