I missed Juneteenth.  June 19th, 1865, the abolition of slavery in Texas.

I planned to acknowledge it and celebrate. I circled it on the calendar, wrote it at the top of my planner, the week of.  I've honestly never thought about Juneteenth before, in my whole life, but for some reason, this year, it was important to me. I was going to gather my kids and it was going to be an epic celebration.

It didn't happen.  I missed it altogether.

I wanted it to be our day of emancipation from Dyskeratosis Congenita.  The disease that has produced nothing but scarcity for us.  The chronic reminders that change what could become of each day.  It would be wrong to suggest that we have no say in this...because we do, and we use to live our best life but then I got tired and forgot against the current of disease and we became enslaved to a different way of living, of thinking or despairing.

Ironically, I was in my own head on the 19th, giving up the day to fight a losing battle with insurance companies, bill collectors, anticipation of transfusions, expensive therapies, the dim future; all the hard things of this mortal world.  It was thrust upon us and I went with it. It's the story line that keeps me dangling on every new symptom because it's all we know now.

I didn't want to take away from the very tragic reason in history, Juneteenth was meant to represent.  I wanted to borrow the idea and have one day that we lived free from worry.  A day that we could celebrate life in a wholly joyous way.  I wanted it to be a day of creation, not destruction. I wanted it to be memorable, compelling, a day we would all remember as the best day.

June 19th wasn't the best day.  Today wasn't the best day but it wasn't the worst day either.

I read recently, that the power to create is linked to the power to destroy.  The same part of your brain that registers trauma, is also the part of your brain where healing happens.  I wanted our Juneteenth to be a day of healing and creation, if even for one day.

I wish every day could be Juneteenth.  Is that too much to ask?  Is it even possible? Perhaps in lofty ways, we can be free from whatever it is that keeps our thoughts enslaved to discouragement.  But let's keep it real...in a perfect world, we would be...well perfect!  Surprise!  We don't live in a perfect world and perfection is not even a human trait...yet. There are no perfect days.  We can have near perfect days, better days, days we manage to survive.  Maybe that's good enough.  Even one little pocket of freedom felt is all we really need.


  1. What a post! How you encourage me! I so relate to every post. It's like you are my mind writing it down. I pray for you and the kids constantly. There should be a way for you to turn your writing skills into financial freedom. God Bless!

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