I felt something coming on yesterday with a gritty, irritating feel in my right eye. Mind you, this occurred almost immediately after my excursion into Flickr a few hours before. I rubbed at it furiously as the itch became almost unbearable. Nothing helped. My solution? Let's go to bed at 9 pm and sleep it away. It did not help. I awoke this morning with a nice shiner. If someone had clubbed me across the eye ball it could not have been more swollen, red and angry looking. Now, you might say that it's just an eye infection, go see the optometrist and get some medicine.


I see divine intervention in everything. The searing image of the dead Lebanese baby may have burned my retina; I know it damaged my soul to a degree. I cannot see this picture without being deeply disturbed by it, without feeling it tug at my heart strings and fighting to urge to immediately hug my children. I cry when I see images of abused children in the news and often wonder, "What makes a person hurt their children?" I've often wondered the same about my dysfunctional upbringing and although I've come to terms with the fact that some folks may just be hard-wired to feel no remorse..well.. I have been cursed with an extraordinary dose of empathy because of it. I feel the pain of the children, I feel the pain of anyone suffering and feel it with them. For that reason, I cannot watch any Lifetime movies that have anything to do with damaging fragile children's bodies and psyche's. I've felt the pain of losing a child firsthand and while it dulls with time and you learn to live with it, it always lingers somewhere in the dark corners of your broken heart and surfaces at the least appropriate moments.

I am not politically inclined in any radical way whatsoever. My choosing to include the Lebanese baby in yesterday's post was perhaps a way to release the anguish I felt at seeing it. Yet, today I wonder - should my eyes have seen it at all? Divine intervention gave me a black eye.