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warm and fuzzy and stuff

Ki on 17 Feb 2008:

Today I adopted a 17-year-old girl.  I've been lecturing her on how she should be living her life (doing what she's passionate about!  going to college so she can draw comics for a living and do what she loves, moving out of her fairly abusive house, etc), and I'm planning on loaning her $100 so she can afford to fly over here.  It's so fun.  It makes me feel warm and fuzzy and stuff. XD I really hope I'm able to mentor kids in Cambodia, in the sense that I see mentoring, which is like being a big brother/sister to someone, or like a trusted teacher) in the same way that I can mentor kids online... see, there IS that language barrier, how can I mentor someone whose whose language I don't speak?

Brad, as userID Silverplate 88, comments:

...well, there are many ways of "speaking" language, some with no words at all.  As kiota well knew.

...this is part of an email we shared when we were planning some aspects of her trip in June-July 2008 to Cambodia, where she would have many remarkable chances to do photography under the tutelage of an experienced guide/photo artists, in a group of 20 of her peers --- AND get academic credit from Evergreen.  She would be planning to "raise awareness of human rights" violations there, counsel kids in an orphanage, and make art.

I've been silent with her voice in this memorial for awhile because I didn't have dependable access to a computer. Now I do. I own this one, connected to the world 24/7 again --- like before my laptop died in Holland.

We are coming to anniversaries, they come to us.  Tonight at sundown Passover starts again in our time. Easter Sunday is two days away, April 5. On April 13 it will be seven years since she left us, I always think of it as her REbirthday.  And, end of this month, April 30, it's her 26th bday. Easter is all about resurrection in a new body, Passover is all about being rescued into freedom.

One of the special memories I carry, still vividly, is the mezuzah she proudly pointed out on the side of her dorm room door.  There is one on mine now, which I brought home from Israel when I visited. She said hers had been given to her by her grandfather -- the mezuzah is the current memorial of the bloody mark Jehovah told the Jewish people to place on their doors so that the Angel of Death would fly over their home (pass over it) on their way to kill all the firstborn of Egypt to break the bonds of slavery of theJewish people (Exodus 12).

On Friday the eleventh, we stopped at her room door for a moment as I was packed and on my way to the airport, our hands touched upon it. May the Angel of Death pass over this room.

She would be with us in her body for fewer than two more days. But I didn't know that.

What I posted in her LJ the following Thursday was ..."and now you've dissolved yourself into light and peace, and you are really here with us, more than ever, in a most special way."

For all of us who are yet open to her, she is never far away... no matter what any calendar says. Each of us has her own timeless memory.

And just recently I have found her dad's new website, he is AstroTom. Gives small-group lectures about the heavens, the stars, at night. Does this currently, from their home in Israel, with some field-tripping to the desert.

"To The Stars" was a fave short story and song she had written.  (Links are here in this journal.) As I asked her about her pen name in 2007 and 2008, "Kiota Bandal", she told me she had changed it for new creative work to "Kiota al-Astraya" -- Arabic for... well, you know.

A perfect metaphor: starlight far away, moving through many years, as you look up, you are looking into history.

Faraway light, but it gets here. Every night.  Endlessly. Does it not!

Can't always see it, if there are clouds where you are. But it's there.

Shalom from Brad

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