My morning companions

Wow!!! I have been here for two months now, very hard to believe so much time has passed me by.

     These guys come to visit me each morning, unafraid to come in for the corn left up here to dry despite Mali being here as well. They have come to know us, realizing we will not  harm them. I love to watch them come in tentatively at first, but being brave enough to get their breakfast.      Around 5:30, just before sunset here they come back. Usually I am in my room and can watch the pigeon in particular run back and forth between the piles on either side of the deck. I get a kick out of seeing it stop half way, look towards my room and then run past. Just tickles my funny bone :).I think of everyone back in canada everyday, although I don’t hear from many. There are a couple of people that write to me on a regular basis (you know who you are, and I so appreciate hearing from you!!!) and I do really appreciate hearing the news from good ol’ Maple Creek. I am reminded of how easy it is to lose touch with people despite their best intentions, “to stay in touch”.

This diary is my way of staying in touch with the many people I was grateful to meet. Working on the book of late has taken a great deal of my time, sorting through all the pages, making sure that important diary entries aren’t missed. It is actually much more work than I expected. The book itself is much bigger than I ever dreamed possible because of all the journals that I kept over the years keeping record of the memories and experiences. It is not easy going back and reading some of those entries, there Is a great deal of pain back there.

I wrote a story about the year I was pregnant with my daughter for the book because this was a year that was full of “family drama”. I was going through diary entries last night and came across the many pages written about this year of my life. I am reminded of the horrible and inconsiderate people that were my adopted family, and was on one hand very sorry I read this part of my journal reminding me of who they were and what they were like. It was good to see however that time does indeed, not heal wounds completely, but does much to separate you from the emotional side of the event. Now that I have reread this entry, I see the story in my book “Finding Home” does not fully describe the emotional rollercoaster I was on indicating the amazing amount of stress I was under at the time. It leaves out so many of the incredible details that contributed to that very emotional time. I was a bit shocked actually at all the important details that I had left out, allowing me to mask over the the depth of the emotions that was my life at the time. So today I will be going over the story for the book and inserting some of those details to give a better picture of what happened during that time.

I have no idea how many people from my life in canada are reading this journal, but I just wanted to say that for those who have left a comment or sent me an email, I am very very happy that you are enjoying the stories. I never thought I could do anything like this, I am not a writer and never wanted to be, but I am enjoying keeping this journal and hope that those who I have not heard from are also enjoying the updates. I had hoped the journal would be a bit more interactive, but I know people are busy. Of course there is the possibility, that the diary is not interesting to most so maybe there’s only 4 or 5 people reading it.

I have a few more short posts to get up today, but I am not sure if I will be able to do much for the next week or so while we do our best to get this book finished. We are very close now, everything (not forgotten) has been edited to the best of our ability and will now be left to a professional. We are just going to be working on the layout, adding the pictures not only of the artwork, but the many family photos as well. It will be a book much bigger than I anticipated when I began to write it which is a bit of a shock to me, but I am actually kind of proud of my accomplishment. I truly hope that it will be picked up and published. It is my great wish that the telling of my stories will help those of similar fate exercise their ghosts and find comfort in knowing that they are not alone in their suffering. There are far too many of us in this world who have suffered at the hands of cruel people.

I believe we go through difficulties to help us better understand the complexities of life, which allows us to help others. In so many situations, we are not equipped to understand the problems of others because we have not been on their journey. For example, how can we truly understand what kind of courage and strength it takes to give up your child, if we have never been in that situation to fully grasp the situation leading up to making that choice. I know how this feels, but can I accurately explain how it felt to someone who has not been faced with this decision? I would like to believe that I have become more compassionate to others because of all that I went through, it makes it worthwhile to think my stories have the potential to help someone else. So this is the reason for this journey, this diary and for this book.

Whatever anyone may think of my story, whether they now see me as just plain crazy, or they see my progression, I hope it can be understood that I am strong in my belief of who I am and I will not let anyone take that away from me again. Your opinion of me is not something I am worried about as I know what I have been through so I have the advantage, the knowledge and emotional attachment to the memories give me understanding that you the reader cannot have at this time.

I will also make a note here that I hope you can understand (those that are listening). My name is Gabriel! Not gabby, gabi or gaby. My name never has, never will be anything other than Gabriel. The shortened version started with the fillapinos I worked with at the resort and despite my telling everyone that I preferred Gabriel, gabby stuck. If you think about it you will realize that I never introduce or call myself gabby, always I tell people that my name is Gabriel. I am hoping by making this kind of a formal declaration, you will try and make the effort to make the change in your mind. The reason for this is quite simple. My birth father named me Gabriel, but that name was taken from me when I was brought to canada. I did not give it up willingly, and it cost me dearly. I travelled a very long and dark road to recover my name and so it has great importance to me. It is my connection to the love I once had as a child, brief as it was, ending at the age of 2 years.

People in this country do understand my journey because they know what happened here, it was devastating for many affecting a whole country. They do not seem to question what I say, taking it in stride because as I said, they have understanding of the horrors that took place here and in other South American countries. They are still trying to stop human trafficking here, so my story is one of many. It is easier to call me crazy in a place like canada, and it was this fear that kept me from wanting to write my story. I have come a long way……