In regards to the funky clouded complexity that surround my family:

I have learned that we are all tearing at each other for the same thing. We all feel justified in our spite for the love, the work we gave and for all that we did not receive in return. We deserve more, so how can the other just receive more. That is the burning feeling that consumes the bitter comments, the lack of consideration and kind patience. I have suffered and it’s not fair. I have suffered and been so unloved. My soul is cracked and tried, where are the fruits of what I have tried to give? Where is the love and recognition that I was supposed to receive? And in response all I can say is that to love is to appreciate and to realize that the heart is not a fortress. Basque in all the good things of those around you and it will shine on you more often. There is no exact currency for which we can measure what we give and receive from others. But if you can find the oasis that is ever elusive in the sad soulless seasons, hold it, be grateful and persist. That is the meaning of grace. I have learned that in my short time here that the love that I measure with greater satisfaction the love that I have given weighs on my soul more than the love that I take.