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FRONT-LINE SOLDIERS: fighting the drug war

My sweet Selena 10-25-96 to 3-13-16

My sweet Selena.  She died on 3-13-1976 of a drug overdose.  I have struggled to get through the month and now the world moves, it seems faster and faster, no matter how hard I dig my heels in and drag, praying that somehow my resistance will stop everything and she will return to me.  I wake up still hoping its all one terrible dream.  I drive down the street wondering.  Wondering about why?  How? and all of the other unanswerable questions I have.

Selena’s service gave me great peace.  The pastor spoke with authority and great beauty as she said,  “the question cannot be why, it must be what’s next.”  There is great truth in this statement and I must walk forward knowing that must be the way .

The way I lived most of my 20’s and some of my 30’s, the tragedies I have endured.  They lifestyle I was enslaved to all brought me here.  Right here, right now.  Every experience, Every relationship, Every choice.

Here I am.  Like it or not, better or for worse.

My boyfriend, the wonderful soul that he is, offered to draw a portrait of my dear Selena.  Of course I was thrilled!

The picture posted above is the one I choose.  I called him and told him I had emailed the picture….”Don, that is the picture I like, I hate she has that scar so visible on her face, please take that out, I requested”…..

Not 2 minutes passed and i thought about an article I read a few weeks ago.  It went something like this:

A woman had some pictures done of herself …I guess they were meant to be sexy pictures for her husband.  She told the artist to please take out the stretch marks, scars etc.

The artist did just this.  Sometime later he received a letter from the husband thanking him for the pictures but they said, “this is not my wife”.  The woman I love has stretch marks from the children she bore for us.  He explained that the scars were what made his wife his wife…..without the scars, and wrinkles, etc.  it was not the woman he loved so dearly.

I thought about that and called my boyfriend back….”Leave the scars there I exclaimed.  The scars are what made Selena who she was.  I remember the scar on her face.  I remember the day.  She was about 5 years old and she was trying to play with the cat, Lily.  Well, lily wanted no parts of Selena.  I started thinking about the rest of the scars.  I remembered the Christmas she ran into a dresser and cut her eye.  What a day that was.

Then, I thought about my own scars.  The scars I try and hide from the world for fear they will judge me.  My arms are scarred from car accidents, injection drug use and physical abuse I have endured at the hands of a few very sick men.  Without my scars I would not be the Louise that gets up every day and fights!

If you could see the scars on my heart you would know I am a wounded soul.  A wounded woman who finds a way to love even when it feels dangerous and futile.  You would know I am a fierce lover and dedicated friend.  You would not cross me because you would know that I am a survivor of war.  My friends, the drug war is a war.  Veterans of this war will need so much even after the weapons are laid down and the war is declared over.

I am a drug war soldier…..I have been fighting on the frontlines.  My daughter died fighting this war.  My mothers heart is broken because of this war.  We must bring this war to an end and begin to heal this nation. The war rages on…..Demand your representatives bring it to an immediate end.

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