I loved them

Quito and Leyla (my mother's older sister and her husband)...they were my guardians and step parents.
My father..Alberto Roman.
My cats: llama, I had her 20 years.  woody, Mr. white (there is a guitar song I made for him and them), the other two cats of my friend Ruth: Chloe and V
my childhood dog...Carlitos
My aunt Gladys, her husband Uncle Phil...they showed me how to drink wine when I was 9 ( with moderation and reverence)
My uncle Tonio, his wife Lia...salt  of the earth...
My  sweet aunt Maria...and her husband...at 16 years of age on her deathbed I told her how to cross over...she listened to me!
Juan Esquivel, my cousin Janet's husband...
Jose, my cousin Marcos partner...
Tom Burns...step dad to my austistic sister Maria...husband to my aunt Noemi,
my dear cousin Patrick in Mexico,  aunt's Noemi's son, who would have been my same age now...he left two children and a wife behind...he died from an infection he got from the Mexican rain. He was a diabetic since young.
Ryn's wonder dog..died in a field in Chattanooga...
Esperanza, my godmother, sister of my dad,  who gave me the pre columbian  shamanic jade pendant...by the ocean in Nicaragua.
Both of my paternal grandfathers..
Both of my maternal grandmothers...
My aunt Indiana's husband..they both survived being kidnapped and left to die in a field in Guatemala...
Mima, my stepdad's sister who was kind to me and her brother Jorge...Mima's son: Jorgito...
co workers: Sterling White, Dr Larry, Kirk, Beverly, Rosie, two nurses, Dr. B...
friends: Bobby in high school in Kentucky, Nikky-the  beautiful sexy girl that hung herself after college when she moved to Austin from Baton Rouge, the wild boy in high school-motorcycle accident and fellow soccer player
the two Mexican teenage students from my after school program in Georgia that died in a car accident during the preparation for community theatre...
several homeless "clients" while I was working at St Joseph's Hospital as a counselor.
the pink orchid my friend Ruth gave me in my 30's for my first apartment in Atlanta...
Tom Blue Wolf's Dog...guardian of the Lodge....
Ziomara, the extravagant Costa Rican psychic who always wore a turban...very large woman...
my brother that died at birth in my 20's...my father called me weeping...I thought it was my other brother, Greg.
Sparky...Shana's and Alex's Dog...some sort of Canine Sensei whose heart beat itself out with love..
Pibe Hine...bohemian piano player who tried to bed me when I was a lost teenager looking for myself in the streets of Cost Rica.
the girl with the smart mouth...in High School...drowned...in a boating accident...Louisiana..
David...shot himself in high-school...over a girl that rejected him...in Kentucky.
Jambie...cat of one my college girfriends...I planted incense in his grave and lent llama to my girlfriend for comfort for days on end...
Terie's dog died of kidney failure...
The gold fish that died in my pond. Specially the ones that Kali (another cat) would pick off and leave them to die on the grass.
That rather large "redneck" in high school (louisiana) who drank cognac with me. He put coca cola in the drink.  A tractor fell on him while he was repairing it.
the son of my math tutor when I was ten who hung himself...my guardian Quito walked around the block to cut him down from the closet. We lived in the ritziest neighborhood of San Jose at that time.
Johnny...fellow Costa Rican musician...another unknown great guitar player...alcoholic
Ruth's dad...died in a car crash. Two other people died that terrible night...
Father Severino who quit the priesthood but not before he taught me the relationship between art and God when I was in private elementary school in Costa Rica.
My kitten buddy, Bonito,  I was 6 years old in Costa Rica .He was shot five times in front of me because he was meowing too much. I was living in a pension while my dad was on the run. My mom had just given birth to my autistic sister, Maria.
The two miscarriages of women that loved me and I loved.
And now,2012,  my dear sweet younger brother, Eduardo,  is terminal with cancer...




Now, more than ever, and  here I exclude some of the terrible violence and trauma that I experienced growing up, that this whole rig is fucked up and the only victory we get against who ever dreamed this up, is love.  Love is  the only victory we get.  And yes,  over the years I have "healed" and have given more love and received love just as much, as I  released pains, and suffering through much work and good luck, nevertheless, There is still a threshold, a border of the heart, specially with lovers, that I can not bear to cross.  Please, forgive me, for I am still trying to understand these scars that either hold me together or free me only so much.