UPDATE ON S.A.W. (Severely but Secretly Abused Woman)

In honor of Thich Nhat Hanh's life and death, these are a few of my favorite things.

It's a funeral bulletin (Keep on Diggin!) written by S.A.W. (Severely and Secretly Abused Woman) and submitted to The Wild Life Prevention and Recovery Center, Station #2 (Spartanburg SC USA) year ago.

I felt honored when SAW shared it and her story with me.

SAW's family did not.

In fact, she never shared it with them.

They were reading her emails without her permission.

And they had her Involuntarily Committed to the Mental Hospital for writing it.

When SAW got out of the Mental Hospital, there was no one to pick her up.

The people who had her Involuntarily Committed were all on vacation at the beach.

SAW had to walk 8 miles back to her Father's house (where she'd been staying before the Involuntary Commitment) over highway and interstate in Spartanburg, South Carolina USA.

She walked in 100 degree southern weather in the throes of summer in her Black Lives Matter hoodie.

That's all S.A.W. had time to put on over her see-through wife-beater and jammy pants when the cops and orderlies showed up at "My Father's House" to take her away for the Involuntary Commitment.

"The choice is yours," they said.

"Handcuffs or straightjacket?"

"Ambulance or patrol car?"

I call that an embarrassment of choices.

I could go on and on.

I could tell you more about how SAW's father and step-mother's house was locked when SAW finally made it there on foot--because they'd hidden the hide-a-key from her.

I could tell you more about how SAW'd had to go to the neighbors--whom she does not know--to borrow a phone to call her Father. . .who then told her to sit at the neighbors until Father's step-daughter could let SAW in after work.

I could tell you more about how SAWs father told her, "That step-daughter, that daughter of my wife, is more of a daughter to me than you are."

I could tell you more about how that preference had been quite clear to SAW for years--up to that very day and beach week when SAWs father told Step-daughter to stay in the master bedroom to keep an eye on SAW since she'd managed to get out of the Mental Hospital.

I could tell you more about how when SAWs father and step-mother got back from the beach the attic playroom was infested with fleas, and everyone blamed it on SAWs cat (who literally has never been outside) as opposed to Step-daughter's neglected dog Toby.

I could tell you more about how Step-daughter's son--who named the dog Toby and likes to use the N word--thinks that name is hilarious. I mean hilarious!

I could tell you more about how they made that dog Toby live his entire life in the the concrete garage. . .without so much as a window or a walk down that street (literally! his entire life!). . .instead of the fenced in lawn (2 acres or so where they let him out to piss and shit on occasion). . .because they cared more about how the lawn looked than how that dog felt.

But I won't.

I'll tell you More About Alcoholism, because that's what that family calls S.A.W.

Keep up the good work!

Veni Vidi Vici