Not Your Typical Wedding Love Letter

Marriage #2 to husband #1!

Two weekends ago I got married for the second time to the same man, my dear Roberto. Honestly it was an amazing love story. Not just a love story between him and I, but a love story of me and the amazing people who joined us on that day.

This is a love letter to those people...

As I have grown older, I have found myself ruminating on love more and more. It is something I reflect upon quite frequently, love in its many forms, the way we love different people and different relationships and how love and memory can be so intertwined. Roberto and I were officially married last July in my hometown in Northeast Pennsylvania in Wilkes-Barre, PA. It was a very sudden wedding, I like to say that it was a shotgun wedding without the baby. My parents were so thrilled to find out that some guy was willing to marry their crazy daughter that they threw together a wedding less than two months after my engagement. They invited 100 of their neighbors (mostly other Bengali folk) and boom I was MARRIED.

Yes, it was cray-cray, I just wanted an excuse to use the word cray-cray

It was a fun weekend, an absolutely insane one, but fun. The problem was, almost none of my friends were there. About 5 good friends of mine managed to attend, but most other people I loved weren't there to spend my special moment with me. I wanted to share my love with my friends, and for me that meant, another wedding, well...two to be exact.

This meant that we were going to have a West Coast Wedding celebration (and an East Coast one...eventually). In May, Roberto surprised the crap out of me in Alamo Park  with an engagement where about 40-50 friends of ours came out of the woodwork to descend on me in a park in San Francisco to see Robert propose at the site of our first date weekend. I was shocked, I cried and wore red flannel (yup I was so surprised that my engagement pictures will forever be immortalized with me dressed as a scrub).

Apparently, Roberto likes scrubs

That was an amazing moment, and I wanted these friends to be part of our wedding celebration.

So lo and behold, two weeks ago we threw our West Coast Wedding Celebration. It was Naderto's wedding celebration, a horrible amalgam of our names clashed into one. We even hashtagged it (#NADERTO). This celebration was honestly one of the most beautiful, poignant and best memories I have ever made. Roberto built a beautiful alter with his bare hands (in the rain, I may add), and decorated it with beautiful red and yellow flowers. My mentor and West Coast mom, Mary and her equally awesome Dave graciously offered up their home for the event, even though Mary's eyes widened when I told her 150 people had RSVP'd. Countless friends offered to help set up, bring food and drinks and join me with so much excitement on this day.

Our alter, made by the groom

And the day of the celebration, it rained. It was gray and windy, but almost everyone still showed up, yup, Mary was still stuck with about 150 people (sorry Mary!). We did a vows ceremony with our monsignor, Gabriel presiding over our words. Gabriel's wife, and my dear friend and twin, Maia, had basically wedding planned the entire event, we couldn't have celebrated our love without the love given to us by this amazing couple.

Us with Gabe and Maia. Members of the Salvadoran wives club with our lucky husbands ;-)

Everything from that day was possible due to the help of others, it took three of my girlfriends, Barnali, Sabiha and Preeti to help me put my sari on (I'm a failure as a brown girl, I cannot put a sari on my by myself for the life of me), and even my mother commented on how beautifully it was put on. And honestly, coming from a Desi mother, that means a lot.

My beautiful bouquet =) Photograph by Jennifer Davis

My bouquet was put together by Mary's daughter, Charlotte, and our breathtaking wedding photography was done by Mary's niece, Jennifer. Our celebration wouldn't have been possible without the contribution of all of these friends, and I will never forget what they did for me to make my day so special, ever. My friend and artist, Sabreena Haque of Ritual by Design did my stunning mendhi.

My beautiful mendhi by Ritual By Design

My friend Nadine, handmade truffle chocolates for dessert. My best friend Nwe not only got us appetizers from her local Burmese community, but had her boys help me out to fundraise at my wedding for my organization, NAPAWF (National Asian Pacific American Women's Forum), they went around with a box asking people for donations for this organization under our name.

With my NAPAWF sisters and my donation box

When I walked down the aisle, with Mary giving me away (yea girl POWER!), I couldn't even look at the crowd that was waiting for me. I was too overwhelmed by their love for me and Roberto, I was too overwhelmed by them coming out on a rainy day to be a part of this. During my vows, I laughed, cried and honestly forgot what I actually said (thankfully there's video), but was moved the entire time by having everyone there.

You know you have the best co-workers in the world when they come out to party for your wedding! My organization, CHAA (Community Health for Asian Americans)

My awesome SEAYL youth came out, because they are the most awesome youth ever

With my Black Young Dems! Co founded this group with some of these people 2 years ago, and look how far we've come =)

I'm not sure if everyone understood how significant this event was for me. Yes it was a celebration of love, but it was also for me, a celebration of my four years here in the Bay Area. I came here literally ONLY knowing Roberto, the guy I made this crazy move for. As I moved around our packed party, I mingled with the different people in organizations I've worked with, from different jobs, to political movements and groups. All of them were part of a transformative chapter of my life.  Each one of them shared a memory and experience with me, I honestly cannot believe that I experienced so much in these 4 years. My friendships and relationships are a testament to these lives I've lived in the West Coast.

After cheerful and tearful toasts, after dancing and drinking, after gifts and hugs, I know have this memory forever. It is a very important memory of love, the love I share with Roberto and the love I shared with each and every person who joined us. Thank you ALL, from the bottom of my heart.

I love you all, thank you to my my friends for loving us back!

PS. If you want to check out all of our wedding pictures by the wonderful Jennifer Davis, here they are!
Nadia and Roberto's Wedding Photos
Nadia and Roberto's Black and White Wedding Photos 

A Season of Love & Remembrance

What does a Brown, Muslim girl know about Christmas really? It wasn't something my family celebrated with me as a kid, though I have a sneaking suspicion that my mom really, REALLY wanted to celebrate it but was just hiding that fact. She used to tell me that it was a "Christian" holiday and so as Muslims, it wouldn't be right to celebrate, or get a Christmas tree. Yet, she would buy Christmas ornaments like crazy (this wasn't helped by the fact that she worked at a Department store and got crazy discounts on all things Christmas). Since we had no tree to hang the ornaments, we would hang them around the house randomly with thumbtacks.  I remember when I was 9, I wanted a Christmas tree so badly that I ripped a branch off a pine tree near my home, stuck it in an empty flower pot and hung up paper ornaments on it that I drew with crayons. It was the saddest Christmas tree ever, Charlie Brown ain't got nothing on a confused Christmas loving Muslim kid.

I feel ya Charlie Brown, I feel ya...

Now as an adult, I embrace all things Christmas. Perhaps not the insane consumerism, but as a holiday I love it! To me it's not religious as all (since, well I'm as secular as you can get) but just another fun holiday where I get to do fun things, get a tree, exchange gifts and eat myself into an unhealthy BMI number.

DON'T JUDGE ME!!

Okay, I'll be honest, the holidays do bring out more for me. It is  time for me to remember to count my blessings, to spend quality time with loved ones and reflect on the year that was before New Years.

The hardest thing about this year has been losing someone I love. That is always the hardest thing in life to me, always. My dear friend, Pauline Cabello, or as I knew her, Polly, passed away this past April. The saddest part for me is that I didn't even know she passed away until October, an entire 6 months of her not being on this planet with me having no idea. I only found out when I decided to hit her up to check out what she was doing for Dia De Los Muertos (Day of the Dead) this year. I usually spent the day with her, and when I turned to her Facebook to see what she would be doing I was met with message after message of people missing her. My heart completely broke. I was immediately wracked with guilt that has still not left me. HOW could I NOT know that she was gone? Though we didn't talk every week, we usually saw each other a couple of times a year and kept in touch rather frequently on Facebook. She always liked my statuses and photos, and we messaged each other. We even messaged each other about 2 weeks before she died, with me complaining about traffic tickets. Maybe that's why I didn't think she would pass away so soon. Her health wasn't great but her death was sudden and in the blink of an eye she was gone. It was a blink that I missed.

Polly and I at a Dia De Los Muertos festival in the Fruitvale, Oakland CA in 2011

Pauline was older than me, almost a grandmother type, but she really had a young soul. Her energy and positivity just radiated from her, she was always so active. It was hard to tell her age because she had the energy of a twenty-something! I met her through my husband, whom she met while they were both in the ceramics program at a community college. My husband had just gotten out of the Marines and was having  tough time adjusting back to civilian life. She came into his life and encouraged him in his art and in leadership. He became President of their college's ceramics guild due to her encouragement. He told me that she was there when he needed him, especially during a time when many people weren't. That will always mean something to him, I hope that Polly realized that.

Painting Polly's face the last time I saw her <3 comment-3--="">

She came out to all of my husbands art shows, shows that even his family didn't come to, but she was there, every time. Though I didn't know anyone when I first moved here, she was one of Roberto's friends who immediately embraced me and was so genuinely sweet and friendly to me from the first time I met her. We struck up a friendship through Roberto but continued it on our own. I will always remember my last memory of spending Dia De Los Muertos with her last year at an event she organized. There was music, hot chocolate and a beautiful exhibit, all of which she organized. I remember painting her face for her, she was so excited to have me do that. When I celebrated that year, I never imagined that a year later I would be mourning her as a loved one who had passed, as another person whose name I would commemorate during the day of the dead.

With Roberto at his last art show

What also hurt me is that I didn't get to join in any of the memorial celebrations of her life. I didn't have any mutual friends with her outside of my husband, so no one could let me know. I was grappling with lost, crying randomly at night wracked with guilt and sadness at not seeing her again. I was especially sad because she never got the chance to see Roberto and I get engaged and married. She would have been so happy for us, she was so supportive to us and loves us so much as a couple.

So I was happy to find out that a group of friends of hers would have a small celebratory holiday gathering where she would be honored.

I joined the gathering this past weekend, and am so glad I did. After someone passes on, closure and commemoration is really for the living, a way for someone to come to terms with their sadness and address the pain they have inside . What I loved the most about the gathering was that it was full of fun and laughter, just like Polly herself. I was able to meet friends of Polly who knew her from when she was a teenager or even younger. I met her family, including her sister and daughter, and was told great stories of her childhood, like the time she punched out bullies on behalf of her little brothers, her time as a roadie and her time being a "Lush Woman" who joined in these parties. I was able to see another side of Polly, I was able to see her again through her loved ones, and that was very special.

Lush women party! Coz they keep it real!

Thank you to all of Polly's friends and family who responded to me and let me into their lives with Polly. It really means the world and gives me some sense of peace. Like I mentioned before, Polly was an artist. I loved seeing her proudly display her beautiful and creative artwork during the displays I attended. Her family let me know that I could take one of her pieces to keep, to always have and remember her. That means a lot to me, I hope to always display her work, and when someone asks me about it, I can tell them about her and what she meant to me. This way she can always live on, through my stories and memory.

I will never forget you

I love you Polly, I am so sad that you aren't with us to celebrate the holidays. I am sorry I won't see your positive smiling face. I will miss all of your invites to fun events. Thank you for the support and memories, Roberto and I will never forget you!

Happy Holidays to her family and to all of you and your families this holiday season.

Love,
Nadia

Saying Goodbye

Travis sitting outside at night under the streetlights during basic training

Ever since I found out about Travis's passing in Afghanistan, I have teetered back and forth, from celebrating our friendship and re-reading his emails, to utter despair and disbelief at his loss. This past Monday offered some solace to me, as I was able to join his loved ones to finally put Travis to rest.

I have never attended a military funeral. I have only seen them on the news, or in Time magazine, the pictures of families sobbing, the grand procession, the flag folding ceremony. It all seemed so heart wrenching, but also detached from my own experiences. After this week, I will never feel that way again.

folding the flags to give to his parents

At the funeral cemetery, when soldiers marched and folded the flag, I felt like I was in a hazy dream. That perhaps none of this was really happening. That Travis couldn't really be gone, that I couldn't be really standing at his funeral watching soldiers folding a flag for HIM. He was supposed to come back safe, like so many people I knew who had been deployed and had returned.

But there it was, right in front of my eyes. When the soldiers handed the flags to his parents, my heart just shattered for them and their unbearable loss. The soldiers took Travis's ashes and respectfully placed them in their final resting place, inside a granite wall with his name tagged on it. And that was it, Travis had finally come home. Right then, an army helicopter swooped above us, circling around the funeral party while waving an American flag. My eyes blurred as tears ran down my face when I saw this. It was all so much, so much emotion, so much trauma, and so much grief.

I spent the time after the funeral hanging out with his family and attending a gathering at his grandfathers beautiful home. His family and friends told me stories about his life, about how he told them about me and our friendship, which touched me deeply. I also learned so much about him. Strangely, it was as if I got to know him better after his death. The friendship Travis and I had had an instant connection, but was brief. I only knew him in the present, as he shared his thoughts and uncertainties about Afghanistan, about his life as a ranger. Now, I learned that he was a huge broncos fan, that he grew up in Washington, but spent summer in San Jose, how he loved football and basketball, and hated taking pictures, but above all else he much he loved his family and always kept everyone together. I looked through his baby pictures and marveled at the man that he had become, and the man that we had all lost.

I want to thank his wonderful family for opening their hearts to me during one of the most difficult times in their lives. They loved the blog post I wrote about Travis so much that they printed it out along with his photos to show everyone, and shared it far and wide. It gave me some comfort to know that somehow, I could be there for them. His mother, father, stepfather, stepmother, and myriad of aunts and uncles warmed my heart with their close bonds. I was inspired to meet them and get to know them. I only hope that one day, I can help cultivate a family unit with as much love and connection as I saw within them.

Thirteen of Travis's friends also flew down from Washington to attend his funeral. I have never seen young men show so much dedication to a friend, to shell out that kind of money to make sure that they would not miss this final goodbye.

with Joe Morgado, Travis's father

I also spoke to his father, Joe, for awhile. He recalled how small Travis had been as a baby and how he wouldn't give up one second of his life with Travis for anything, that every second was cherished. I found out how even at the very end, how brave Travis was, and how he put his military unit first. I remember Travis once mentioned to me that he was more afraid of having someone under his command get hurt, rather than himself. That was him, selfless till the end.

And that is what I carry with me now. All of these memories, all of the love I felt from his family. I am still grappling with sadness and loss. I know that I will never get another email from him, or get to send him another book. But now I am emailing some of his friends and families, it's amazing the impact that one persons life can have. It's amazing what experiences one can go through by just saying hi to someone on a plane.

Travis's father told me that Travis always wanted to do something that would be remembered. I will do my part to make sure that this happens, that people know about Travis and what his life meant. How in such a short time, he has inspired me forever. But it doesn't end there. One thing Travis and I really connected on was our desire to do something meaningful with our lives, to make the world a better place. Travis may be gone, but he always encouraged me. He was so excited for my trip to Vietnam, for me to be involved in politics, for all of the social justice work I am involved in. I feel a renewed passion to go out there and never give up. To live my life to the fullest and make the biggest impact I can make. To be fearless and steadfast in my efforts.  And I will do it, with Travis in my heart, inspiring me all the way through.

Travis, when I close my eyes, I see your kind eyes, your slight smile as we talked excitedly on and on and on while you sat right next to me. Now you are so far away, and I can't get to where you are. But I cherish that memory so dearly. We all cherish your memory in every way possible. Befriending you, losing you, and connecting with your loved ones over your early loss has given me one of the most profound experiences of my life.

So thank you Travis! Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for letting me share your world for a little while before you left.

For that, I am forever grateful.

Love always,
Nadia


To see more photos, you can go to my Facebook Album:
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10101695914041549.3090406.8803719&type=1&l=ac0e01fbe6

Remembering Travis

Travis with his aunt Jenny (I never had the chance to take a photo with him)

This past Friday night, I was casually strolling through my facebook when I saw a photo someone posted of my friend, Travis Morgado. I stopped to look at the photo and noticed that the caption read R.I.P. My mind raced and I frantically scrolled through his page. I noticed comment after comment giving condolences and R.I.P's. The word 'no' was screaming through my brain as it sunk in. My worst fears had come true, and the person I had hoped would come back from Afghanistan safely was now gone forever. We had e-mailed each other only two weeks before and now he was gone. He was only 25 years old.

That hurts. Writing that hurts. I met Travis not that long ago. I was coming back from DC after my amazing experience lobbying Capitol Hill with my fellow NAPAWF sisters and was boarding my flight when I noticed a young man in fatigues headed towards my seat. I had noticed him earlier, and his uniform piqued my curiosity. For some reason, I felt like I wanted to know his story. Maybe it was because I was an Army brat for the first ten years of my life (a fact that most people don't know about me),with my Bangladeshi immigrant father serving both in the US Army and National Guard reserve. Or maybe it's because my boyfriend, Roberto and my mentor Anthony are also ex-Marines. These people are some of the most important and maybe THE most important people in my life and with that, the military also became a part of my life story, intermingled in my history and in the history of people I love.

I think I spoke to Travis first, and true to my nature (and the name of this blog), I didn't shut up; neither of us did. We talked the during the ENTIRE five hour flight to SF. I don't think I ever spoke to a complete stranger for that long, let alone on a plane. But it was so easy, he was a great listener, and I was so interested in his decision to join the military and where he would be going.  I have strong views against militarism and war, so talking to him was a fascinating insight into why he was enlisted and how he felt about being shipped to Afghanistan. I told him that if he was to go Afghanistan, he should learn about the people, their customs and maintain his humanity the best he could. With this in mind, I promised to send him the book, Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson, a book about an American who went to Pakistan and Afghanistan to build schools for girls, and how he did it by being respectful and open to the cultures of the communities he was working with.

Travis on the right, just as I remember him on the plane wearing his fatigues. You aren't supposed to wear fatigues on a plane, but he told me all of his clothes had already been sent home so he had no choice ;-)
Photo by: Army OCS 006-11 2nd Platoon Black Hearts

The plane landed, we exchanged information and went down the terminal together. At the door, I introduced him to my boyfriend, and waved good bye...that was the last time I ever physically saw him.

Yet not the last time I heard from him. I sent him my copy of the book and wrote a note for him in the inside cover. We sent e-mails back and forth. He emailed me about his crazy time in Vegas and I emailed him about my plans to go to Vietnam. A week after I met him, he donated $100 to my cause (which I mentioned in an earlier blog post). That act of kindness brought me to tears when I saw the donation pull up. I had just met him and was overwhelmed by his quick generosity. I knew this guy was special.

He was deployed to Afghanistan on March 20. In Afghanistan we continue to email each other. He told me how he was so nervous to be coming in from the outside and commanding men, he didn't know if he could do it right. I sent words of encouragement and told him to watch out for camel spiders. I sent him another book to read. I knew he was glad to have someone to talk to while he was deployed. I always told him to be safe. I wrote it to him, emailed it to him and texted to him. I always wished for his safety.

When I found out about his death from a roadside bomb, I was hysterical. I then saw articles of him posted. It is so weird to see your friend as an article. I felt so sad for his parents and family, I could not imagine what they were going through. I called my boyfriend because he knew what it was like to lose his comrades in war. I called him so angry. I was always angry about the wars, but now war seemed even more meaningless and senseless. Who wins a war? Who ever truly wins a war? The innocent civilians who are murdered ruthlessly as collateral damage? The young men in their prime who are buried by their parents? The politicians making the decisions without facing any of the consequences? Who EVER WINS a war? I ranted these things to Roberto, who had lost many men in his unit, though he himself was never deployed.

I somehow went to sleep that night, with a dose of Tylenol PM and chamomile tea. When I woke up the next morning, I felt like my face had been hit by a truck. The crying and tears had drained me, but I picked myself up and went to an event to meet Congresswoman Barbara Lee, an amazing woman who was one of the few representatives who voted against the Iraq war from the very beginning, and has been a great leader. I knew that Travis would have wanted me to attend this event, to keep following my dreams, to fight the good fight, make connections and change the world. He was excited for me when I was elected to be a delegate to the Democratic National Convention. He told me that I would probably end up all famous and successful one day and forget about the little people like him. That one day when he would tell people that he knew me, they would laugh him off as a crazy old lieutenant.

With Rep. Lee...this one was for you, Travis

I knew back then that I would never forget him. I told him so, but now with everything that has happened, his memory is seared into my heart and mind forever.

I have never lost a friend or family member who was a soldier in a war. Yet I always stopped to look and acknowledged memorials of the thousands of young men and women who lost their lives. In Vietnam. In Iraq. In Afghanistan.  Now I know someone and it has changed me, death always changes the living.

It is Memorial Day today, memorial day will never be the same for me. I think about Travis all the time, the shock has worn off but I am still in disbelief.  Sometimes I fantasize that he will come back and we could continue our friendship, finally get to hang out again. But it's just a fantasy, something that makes me smile and saddens me at the same time.

I wanted to sign this post off with one of the last things Travis wrote to me via e-mail. It was something poignant that stuck with me...

"I think that at one point not even that long ago I was a lot different of a person than I am now. Don't you ever think about how your life would have been different had you just done a couple of things another way? I think that regret is a feeling that can consume a person. It's the difference between a happy person and a sad one, every local I meet here show no signs of regret, they all seem happy with their lives. Complete opposite of most of the soldiers I've met here. I have always believed that there has to be something mentally wrong with a person to pick my job, especially since every other job in the army is more practical, and less dangerous. And the longer I'm in the more I believe that I am right. We are fighting without a purpose, you cannot kill an idea, and yet everyone here is still willing to fight, and just waiting to get shot at." - Travis Morgado

I hope that in the end Travis, you did not have regrets. I know you chose your path, and knew the dangers. Neither of us knows the purpose of war, and it makes me wonder how you felt being over there with this realization. But I will not regret for you, I will always remember you with love and happy memories. I will be that happy person who does not regret. I am grateful that you were in my life.

R.I.P Lt. Travis Morgado, my friend

Love,

Nadia

In Memoriam of my friend, Yvette

 
My friend Yvette passed away this morning after a very short and sudden fight with terminal brain and lung cancer.

I remember her telling me that she had cancer during a late summer BBQ. She looked fine, acted fine, seemed fine, but she had cancer. I didn't know how to react. Part of me just didn't think that it was real, part of me just thought that somehow, she would be okay. Death  doesn't seem like a reality until it's too late.

Until this morning, I had made plans to visit Yvette in her hospice facility. I signed up to help out with caretaking assistance once she got out. I thought we could spend time together, that she could tell me stories, that maybe I could be there for her.

I wasn't yet. I was going to be. Last week she seemed fine. Other friends reported that she was in relatively good spirits, she seemed to be holding up. I wanted to see her tomorrow until I received the call today to say final goodbyes.

I promptly cancelled my plans for today, frustrated with myself for not visiting earlier this week. I drove to two different nursing homes, wrong ones, no Yvette. Finally I got to the right one and ran out. I asked the nurse for her room. The nurse looked at me, shook her head and let me know that Yvette had passed away that morning at 9am. I was there at 12pm, 3 hours too late, 1 week too late 1 month too late. I spoke to another nurse that let me know that her family had been with her when she passed, she was not alone. This entire time, she had never been alone. I started to tear up as I attempted to keep composure, the nurse didn't seem to know what to say. I quietly thanked her and called up Yvette's friends to let them know that she was gone.

I think I may have been the first person to know of her passing outside of her family. After finally coming to visit her, I ended up breaking the death news.

I realize that this post is about me, my feelings on this day. As Roberto reminded me, it should be about her. Maybe writing a post about me makes it easier, I don't have to feel as sad as I would be if I wrote about her.

But she was great. I met her at an ASATA (Alliance of South Asians Taking Action) meeting late last Spring for the first time. Months later she came to my birthday. She was the first person to arrive and helped me to set up for my party. She was my last guest as well and I drove her home late that night. She told me stories of her trips to Africa, her life philosophies and her passion for justice and progressive change.

Packed room in honor of a wonderful woman, activist and friend

Today, there was supposed to be a fundraiser at the La Pena Cultural Center in Berkeley to help pay for her care. It ended up being a commemoration in her honor instead. The place was packed as friends of hers sang, played instruments and recited poetry.  I looked around at the sheer number of people who came out to show love and remembrance for Yvette. Her years of activism, involvement and friendships with us all were not lost, they were celebrated.

Death frustrates me, I don't think I handle it well (but who does?). I don't like missing people as I've mentioned before and before.

But when I left the Hospice center, I felt light. Yvette was no longer suffering. I knew that she was in severe pain at the end. She didn't deserve that pain. She deserved what she fought for her whole life,  she deserved peace.

And that is what she has now, peace.

I love you Yvette, thank you for being my friend.

Yvette and I at my birthday last July

Gratitude for 2011, Hope for 2012 (Thank you, Thank you, Thank YOU!)

Whoa 2012 started out with some pretty great news for me. At approximately 10 minutes past midnight, I checked my gmail inbox to see that I had been accepted as a 2012 fellow at the New Leaders Council Institute for its San Francisco program. This is probably been the first really good news I've had in two years. No joke, the last two years have been so rough for me. It's nice to see some hard work pay off, and I am just so grateful.

Hopefully 2012 will bring less feelings like this

A little over two years I came to the Bay Area with high hopes, big dreams, stars in my eyes and a new love in my heart. Everything came crashing down about a year later...if you want details, you can check older postings here, here and here (wow that's a lot).

Basically I left/got illegally pushed out of a pretty horrible job, spent a year unemployed amidst the worst time in the economic downturn, and had my dreams of going to law school (or any grad school for that matter) basically go kaput. I moved to the Bay Area in the Summer of 2009. 2010 was easily one of the worst and most challenging years of my life. 2011 was a bootstraps year, I was so ready for change, so frustrated and just wanting for things to improve. At this time last year I was unemployed,  and inspired yet terrified at an uncertain future. The future is still uncertain (and perhaps it always is), but things HAVE gotten better. I am tired from all the effort this year took, and so much went on, I ran around so much, DID so much, met so many amazing people and had such a great array of experiences that it's actually overwhelming for me to even reflect on all of this.

Preach it Abe!

I love that this blog is a window into my journey in the past year, it chronicled my ups, downs and good times. It also followed the beautiful souls I was able to meet, connect with and befriend.

So here I am, blogging again from Lake Tahoe (again? 2011 was a good year). I'm sitting in front of a roaring fire that's been on almost non-stop for a few days. When I got the news about the NLC decision, I actually teared up. I think some of it was tears of relief, relief at the possibility of things getting better, of my dreams potentially coming true one day.

Seriously Lake Tahoe, I love you

But I also teared up because I couldn't help but reflect on the kindness, the mentorship and support of so many good friends, both old and new, who were really there for me.

So this is a thanks, thanks to the East Coast friends who picked up my calls and spoke to me for hours, calming me, soothing my anxieties and telling me over and over again that they believed in me. Thank you to friends who opened their homes to me when I attended conferences, friends who let me sleep on their absent siblings' cloud-like dream beds, friends who took time out of their work break with me to grab a pizza in NYC and listen to me and console me during the times that I felt less than stellar (less than stellar being a serious understatement).

Thank you to the friends that spent hours almost every day to give me free grammar lessons that helped me to become a better, more confident blogger and writer. Thank you to the strangers, and later new friends who took out time during their day to tell me their stories so that I could share them with the world.

Thank you to the friends who never let me pay for meals because I was broke. Who wined and dined me generously in their homes over heartfelt conversation. Thank you to friends for the hugs and for just hanging out with me as we built memories that we will always hold dear.

Thank you to my stupendous mentors, who sent me job listings, who invited me to networking events and agreed to always be my references =)

Thank you to the artists, the cool, inspiration people who wrote novels, shared poetry (including reading mine), took photos, created spectacular music, taught me how to use twitter properly (#hashtag what!) and made the most beautiful latte art I have ever seen as we shared coffee and ideas while talking about beauty, the world, and our goals.

Thank you to a particular photographer/mentor who has been an amazing new friend, teacher and inspiration for me to shoot for the stars (or just shoot in general) and challenge barriers I have set up for myself. I will travel the world, just like you one day and I can't wait to share my photos and journeys with you and everyone else!

Thank you to the organizations that believed in me, took me in and paid me ;-) to do the work I love, I seriously have the best co-workers (aka friends) ever!

don't you wish your colleagues were fun like mine?

Thank you to the community leaders and activists who welcomed me with open arms and taught me so much about strength, community and inspiration to improve our world.

Thank you to my new sisters, who helped me express myself on stage and find my voice to help tell my stories, my poems, my monologues for the world to hear.

Yonis 4ever! Photo courtesy of
 Saurabh, Nasir, Mike, Inder, Shobana, Mahesh and Kiran

Thank you to Michael and Evachan, who held me while I cried, listened to me when I bitched and always gave me a place to stay and eat. Even continents apart, I know my love for you both and the family you have provided me will never fade.

I feel like crying, this is making me emotional. But good tears, happy tears.

Thank you to my new best friend, Nwe, it was love at first sight when we met, and I am so grateful to have you and your beautiful sons in my life. Technically I made 4 new best friends this year! I love being a Khalamoni =).

The Alvarado-Hussain-Oo Clan

To to my little sister who has been there since she was born (though at the time it wasn't by choice muahaha), I seriously lucked out...the Hussain gene pool could not have produced a more awesome best friend for me. Thanks for listening even when I sounded crazy and repeated myself over and over again.

I present to you, the best and brightest of the Hussain gene pool

And thanks, last but not least to Roberto, who has loved me through everything. Who picked me up when I was down (literally picked up), who made me laugh so I couldn't physically cry anymore, I am blessed to have you as my 24/7 best friend. Sometimes you need someone to believe in you with all their heart when you don't have the energy to do so and I am grateful, grateful, grateful for that.

Great, this sounds like an album inset...I'd like to thank my producers, Lil Rock Z and my fans 4 lyfe....just kidding (I have no idea who Lil Rock Z is, I just made that up).

zomg Lil Rock Z..is that you?

I am excited for 2012, I know things will be amazing, I am gearing up for a trip to Vietnam from late February to early March, my first time ever visiting Southeast Asia to help build homes with Habitat for Humanity's Global Village project (oh and hey if you want to make a donation just click on the link on the top right of this page, or just contact me! 2012 is a year to develop fundraising skills you know ;-P), as well as an upcoming trip to Washington DC for the National Asian Pacific Women's Political Forum (NAPAWF) national conference to connect and build relationships with some fierce and powerful women. I also know that 2012 will have it's difficult parts, like any year. I have a dear friend who has been diagnosed with terminal cancer, so there are still sobering realities to face. But may I face them with love and most importantly friendship =).

Happy 2012 to you all!

Wishing you all lots of squishy hugs in the New Year