In the year of nineteen-twenty-four
My grandma Lorraine was born
Forty-seven years more
I entered the world one morn

My mom being close to her mother
Chose my name in honor of their bond
I cherish and would choose no other
For of my name, I’m especially fond

In January of two-thousand-nine
When grandma exhaled her last breath
I held her tender hand in mine
Unwilling to accept her death

My namesake dying left a hole
A painful space I longed to fill
I set for myself a goal
Live resiliently as she instilled

Grandma’s lifetime was filled with sorrow
Early losing both parents and brother
She continued to trust in tomorrow
With a tenacity and humor like no other

She suffered injuries, illness, trauma
Several surgeries left her hobbled and sore
But she cooked, and she cleaned, and she dealt with our drama
Assuring us she desired nothing more

In my stiving to be a woman like she
I often struggle to find the resolve
Then I dig deep inside for her inside me
Remembering her profound strength was her love

Hi you,
You would be 25 or 26 today. I miss you. It still doesn’t feel true that your still gone. I have seen the way it has affected your friends and family around you. I don’t know what you went through but I do know all the pain that never stops, the ground that doesn’t stop shaking. Trying to pull you under so fast its hard to breathe but you helped me to think about my own life, the people around me. And to remind me that the never ending storms or what it feels like will stop. Lights will be turned back on. Many more people care about you then you will ever know. You will go on to do incredible things, do things that you are proud of and people you will meet that will make it worth the wait. Everyday you wake up alive is the greatest blessing. Never forget that.

WHAT I LIKED MOST ABOUT MY YOUNGER SELF
Dear Unsealed,
A I look back in time
Of reason & rhyme,
I liked my persistence
Of whom I was in existence
Of time & space
In the rat race
Of life & dreams.
But it seems
I had to go through many changes,
In different decades of stepping into the light
Out of darkness to learn to rearrange,
Various aspects of learning to live
As an empath,
And not even knowing about what path
Was that?
My younger self grew up with my grandpa Boss
Until I was five years old.
After that he passed of a massive heart attack
So many years back
In time
Of reason & rhyme
I have been told,
Grandpa Boss was a writer & sculpturer
Of many lost works now.
He taught me to read & write from birth to age 3
When he was alive.
He called me the apple of his eye.
I would read his books of poetry
Of mostly religious beliefs of his mindset at that time
In my life of reason & rhyme
We would sit on the back porch
& we would talk for hours about how to carry the torch
Of art & creativity & beyond
To express feelings of joy, love, God & life
As I was so incredibly young.
I remember his trips to New York City to publish
His poetry of life, God & love.
I would rush
Into the living room to welcome
Grandpa Boss home from his long trip
From so far away across to the east coast &
away from me & Grandma Carrie Soleta.
My two favorite people,
Grandpa Boss taught me love the written word,
To express my feelings and sip
From the creative cup of cornucopia of life
As a writer of sorts &
Of course, my Grandma Carrie Soleta was a teacher,
Of creative words and the history of humanity.
She loved to sit with me on the piano bench,
As I played music of different chords
& style of religious, blues, rock, country
ETC.
My youthful days are reminisced by clouds and sunshine of that reality as a young child from birth until three years old when my grandpa passed. My grandma continued to nurture me in rhythm, reason & rhyme.
I realize that between my grandparents and my parents I am thankful for those human beings in the time of decades of my life.
At three I was young, naïve, carefree.
When my grandpa passed, I saw a huge dark cloud
Over my head as mom explained to me Boss was dead
In the flesh
But alive in the spirit in the clouds
Of heaven.
I remember my grandpa as a creative, kind person.
I was sad for a while as a little child.
But soon the sun would shine above the clouds of grief,
Of sadness and pain.
What was to remain,
Is this prose of mine
In this decade of my life
To remind me of the two
People who gave me joy & creative endeavors
Of reason, rhyme, & music, history
And to grieve through my music and books and art
Of everyday existence of all my decades
Of life as it fades
Into being old.
I used to respect my grandparents,
As they were my elders and so I was told,
They were wise and watching over me as I dream
And walk through my last decades
Writing & artistic creativity
To say to my peeps,

“Thank you, Grandpa Boss and Grandma Carrie Soleta,
For teaching me the ins & outs of my fate
To realize it is not too late
To continue with chapter 74 of my life,
To continue as I will soon be seventy-five.
Thank you my BFFS for always being there.

Looking back… man… we were all so young…
Back before any of us had a story to be sung
I remember us being little kids, kicking soccer balls on the field
The years spent in school, back when we all thought we were so cool
Man it felt like back then, time would just yield
Then we graduated and went our separate ways
But I still remember that day, years since I last saw you
The sheer excitement and joy on your face to see me, pierced me right through
Living your life so light hearted and care free
The encouraging words you spoke to me
Were the push I needed to finally publish my book…
When I got that phone call, my whole core was shook
And my breath took a pause
As I heard you were mercilessly beaten without cause
Cast down to the waters below, where you drowned
Spending your last moments alone, with no one around
When reality struck, I couldn’t control how I flailed
Or stop the tears that I wailed
As I was thrown into utter travail
The whole community felt the void
As the life of one of our own was destroyed
But I believe there was a beauty in the floods of people who gathered to grieve
For it was a truly remarkable sight to see
The unfathomable amount of lives one young man had impacted
And that’s a fact, it can’t be retracted
Yours was a life taken too young
But I refuse to let your story go unsung
You were always there to lift people up when they stumbled
Your motto’s eternal: be kind, give thanks, stay humble

Dear Unsealed,
Today as I lay across my queen size bed,
As though the universe led
Me supernaturally to this phenomenal sad,
But a joyful photo of me and my dad.
I am a little Vic.
My poppa was a big Vic.
The photo was from long ago,
In my reality of the 1980s highs & lows
Of experiences in Hollywood &
Beyond with my dad, big Vic.
Time goes by so quickly,
Like a bite of an avocado
As I swallow the last bite.
My pop, Victor was my hero.
Vic was always my rock to lean upon.
No matter what I said or did,
In those days of growing up singing my song,
Vic was always there to teach me right from wrong
& to work hard, study hard, smile,
While all the while
You ‘wanna’ cry,
Ask why,
Or just hug the world
As you travel the road I chose.
My poppa Vic
Passed away as he was sick
With leukemia.
I was there by his side
To hold his hand as he died.
I bent over to kiss his forehead,
Telling him thank you for always having my back.
I now look at the photo
Faded from decades of dark & light.
My poppa Vic
With his baby girl, Vicki
As we sat at the celebration dinner party in LA.
I had rented a dress from a costume shop in Hollywood,
Judi Garland’s once upon old black sequin dress.
I wore my late Grandma Carrie Soleta’s beads,
I had cut my hair so black and short with waves,
To help me smile & celebrate the event.
That was so special that night.
I look at the old, faded photo,
I smile as I remember my big Vic,
My hero always there to catch me when fell
Or celebrate me when I stood up,
When he was there to pull me up,
“Sister, everything’s gonna be okay. A hundred years from now you will forget about it.”
“Yeah dad, in a hundred years we will be dead. So, forget about it.”
That was my poppa Vic!
Now I remember those words of inspiration alert
From big Vic.
I loved my poppa Vic,
My hero
I still feel him around
To keep me sound
& so,
This letter is dedicated to my late poppa Vic,
So handsome, so sweet
To everyone he would meet.
I dreamed of my big Vic & my mom, Thelma,
One-night years ago
Before I moved back to LA
2016.
I was living on the south Texas beach
With the Jekyll & Hyde dude.
Poppa Vic knocked on my bungalow door.
I opened it, “Dad, Mom, hello, OMG!
My poppa said, “Come with us sister.”
I stepped out the door
To leave that bungalow door
Adobe behind to never go there, nevermore.
We drove over the mountains, the desert,
To LA.
Then as I stepped out to pray
To thank God to be back in LA
After a long trip
With my poppa my late mom & late poppa Vic.
They disappeared like a puff of smoke
As I awoke
To daybreak.
Three months later I was on the train to LA
Over the deserts & mountains night & day.
I stepped off the train,
Kissed the ground, so glad to be back in LA.
My poppa, big Vic was there in spirit for me
To bring me home, no more to roam.
“I love you my poppa Vic.”

Dear Country Concerts,
From the moment I first went to you
Cowgirl boots rocking in the stars
Flashing lights like the northern lights
Singing along to the late nights
The late night drinks, the late night music
Us speeding along like there is no tomorrow
Time Standing Still
Living the life we dreamed of
Stomping our feet against the wind
Night Flowing like it’s never going to end
Healed hearts,
Phones disappearing like ghosts
No service, no responsibilities
Becoming one with music
The music is you
Heartfelt conversations and times
We’re all the same
We’re all the same in the moment
Swaying like astronauts in space
no gravity, no gravity

DEAR UNSEALED,
My ‘comfy peace zone
Is being alone,
Or with a friend
At the beach
As to reach
Out my hand to touch the wave,
To breathe at air, catch the wave,
With my toes embedded in the sand
As I walk in the forever beach land
I breathe in the positive icons of the ocean,
as they are a magic potion
of supernatural omnipotence of life
the life
of humans and all living creatures as they crawl
and walk, sleep, produce and create,
call
out to me,
“Come out to me, Vicki Lawana!”
I regroup at the beach,
Of which
It is a quiet place for prayer, solitude and throwing out
Negative icons to the breeze,
To the wind, the universe of time and space.
This is the case
Of confessions to the sea
From many stories of love, heartache, tears, joy
And laughter of past present and future to be
I look out at the ocean blue.
Listen to the seagulls too.
Although other humans are here
I have created a tiny little sphere
Of the atmosphere
Of light around my space
I sigh a bit.
I remember my youth days,
the 2am night drives to Malibu
Parking my car feeling blue
A romance gone awry, adrift, and away,
As I step out my car
Into the parking lot
In my special spot
I sigh.
Cause now I say, “No worries!”
All thoughts of grief & heartache
Dissipate
Into the ocean blue
Throwing my cares to the waves, the salty air
Of time & space
Not a waste
But a taste of salt and minerals seeping
Through my toes radiating through my whole body
Creating a flow of the case
Of joy and time & space reality
Of no more grief
Cause I feel the ocean spray
On my face
On my body
As I sink my barefoot toes in the sand
Of this LA land.
This is still my ‘comfy zone,
As it my time alone
To pray, to say
I am okay.

Dear younger Rachel,
Waves come faster than you think
Trying to catch the sunsets before you blink
Days and years coming at you like the speed of life
Demons haunting you
But light shines in something everyday
Remember to hold the rope and climb
No matter how many steps it takes
Reach for the stars
Keep shining bright
Remember things will pass
Remember the root of the tree
The people that love you
The simplest things that make you proud
All will be well
You will meet incredible people
Touch so many hearts
Inspire the world
And most importantly be at peace
With yourself
You will find strength
And everyone will know your name

You wish to be small
Slight and petite
Not round like a ball
Atop two chubby feet

You want to fit in
With those in your school
To be popular, thin
Not solely uncool

Why can’t you be skinny
Like others your grade
Dress in skirts mini-
Not big and homemade

But hold it, I say
To big little you
Soon comes the day
Adolescence is through

At age twenty-nine
With determination and grit
I promise you’re fine
Keep at it, don’t quit

Realizing long last
Being strong is what’s best
Leaving diets in the past
You pass the qualifying test

Now, a personal trainer
Group fitness leader
Sometimes entertainer
Always positivity feeder

The joy you’ll discover
In this health career choice
Will help your recover
And find your own voice

So, please don’t you fear
Dear big, little you
Your future is near
Your dream will come true

From the womb you were torn
And since the time you were born
Brought to this earth
You’ve fought for your worth
Everything of yourself you’d give
Struggling to find a purpose just to live
Belittled for being sensitive
Because that’s not how a man’s meant to be
Alone, hurting, and misunderstood
Wanting anyone to see your heart, but was as if nobody could
Tormented to the point you wanted not to be
But I’m telling you not to worry
Because even though you spent many nights…
Crying with a blade to your wrist
Those desires you were able to resist
Until you learned, God had always had you in His sight
He saw a purpose for you
And you’ve been able to achieve far more than you ever thought you would do…
Looking back, who am I?
That His grace, He would not deny
That He would send someone like us across the nations
To declare Christs proclamation
To find yourself raising your fists
Praising God, while surrounded by terrorists
But He’s given us far more
As we’ve been able to help those ravaged by war
As from their homes they had to flee
You’d never have been able to do that if you ceased to be
Being there to bring comfort and peace
As you hear the gunfire and bombs…
If only for a moment, allowing others to feel calm
Or how I still find it absurd
How we’d start putting our pain and praises into words
With no clue, other than by Christ, how it occurred
Only to watch how it unfurled
As we’d have a multitude around the world
Inspired by the things that we wrote
He’s blessed us so much, because to Him our life we chose to devote
I remember clearly that night on our bed…
I remember clearly the words that we said…
The moment we decided to put down that knife
And told the Lord we’d give Him one opportunity
To do whatever He wanted to do with our life
And I write this to my younger self, in the hopes he’ll see
There’s no need for you to worry
You’re gonna do just fine
Just keep clinging to Christ divine
Just keep running your race
When you stumble, repent, and trust in His grace
Until the day you can bestow a kiss to His face

I find my peace in pieces
A little here and there
Chaos never ceases
Peace is often rare

But,
I feel it in raindrops
Dry, falling leaves
Carefree belly flops
A humorous sneeze

In,
Pine needle covered trails
A brilliant sunrise
Stylish manicured nails
Crisp sweet potato fries

At,
Book clubs with friends
Pride parades in June
Multicolored pens
Naps in the afternoon

I find my peace in pieces
Wherever there is spare
Gather then release it
Peace is meant to share