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It has taken me some time to write my latest blog because it is about my daughter’s final resting place and not a topic I thought I would write about, nor one you might want to read about. I have never given much thought about where I will be placed after I die, as I really loathe the thought of a graveyard, or an urn in my house that is displayed on a shelf. I prefer beloved photos set around my home that remind me of good times. I have had my daughter’s ashes for a long time, even shipping them to Colombia along with all my beloved possessions. I did throw some of her ashes in the Intracoastal waterway before I moved, along a path where we would sit and talk while taking my granddaughter for a stroll.46319_10201682425288406_520618800_n

One day my partner started becoming a little upset that I still had her ashes,reminding me that they could no longer stay in a suitcase in the basement. I know! Please understand I was avoiding the reality and permanence of doing something, anything with them. My partner reminded me of the legend that goes along with Villa Migelita, a legend repeated often by the natives of El Meson. I am the third owner of this Hacienda,the first owner is said to be still roaming around the grounds. This is an often repeated tale around my area, one that is fascinating because of the history and the folklore that are combined.

Native Indians that lived in El Meson long before the colonization buried their loved ones in the best, flattest spots they could find. El Meson is so named because it is a beautiful flat area in the mountains. La Mesa translates to the table in English. So this explains the name, we are the table in the mountains. The first owner of Villa Migelita owned all the land of El Meson, but his home was called La Casa Blanca (The White House). He started this pueblo, and was a humble man who loved his privacy. He also was innovative, as he built a basement in his home that was unheard of at the time and the main house was high to keep out insects and predators, but to also bring in the cool breeze that floats through the house like air conditioning. It is said he spent most of his time digging for gold left behind from the ancestral native Indians. They buried gold and valuable artifacts with their loved ones, in flat spots of utmost beauty. It is also repeated in the folklore that he did find some gold and used it to better his home and help the community. So, because he wanted privacy to dig and hunt for gold, he gave an area where the people of the town congregated and parked their horses and wagons a space of land to build a church. The church they used before was located on his land near the house La Casa Blanca. It was an outdoor church, very simple with an overhead structure that included chairs and an alter for the priest. The locals of El Meson gladly accepted his kind offer and he supplied money for them to build the church.

As time went on he got old and still continued his lifelong quest of the search for treasure. He dug a huge lake while looking, he made stables while looking, he continued to work on his home. It is said he died always hoping for that buried treasure, and still roams the grounds as a spirit looking for bounty.

I am sure you are wondering how this ties into my daughter’s final resting place. My partner had a suggestion, he said take the urn and bury it in a place of your choice on the property, then fill it with flowers and trees. I remember thinking “why did it take so long for me to do this, what a perfect idea!” He did not direct me to a specific spot, but it was so easy for me to find the perfect place. I have a beautiful office that looks out onto my front balcony and the mountains. I also can see the area I buried her almost anywhere from the house that looks out towards the Valle del Cauca. I see the mountains and the Valle below. It is a place of supreme beauty. I have bought all kinds of plants, flowers, and even a tree that will grow over time. I placed an angel beside the tree, and have hung a hummingbird feeder on a branch. I find a lot of comfort watering her place of rest. It brings peace to my soul. The really interesting part of this story is it is the place of the original church of El Meson, and I did not know this until after she was buried. Misha is buried in holy ground. I also know if there are any spirits at Villa Migelita, they are good, kind souls.

I recently found out I still own the church of El Meson and I am in the process of giving the church back to the community. I have donated paintings and a cross in the memory of my daughter Mikel Cara Carson. She has still not had justice in her death, and a trial is scheduled for this March with a disclaimer that it could change. It will be 4 years on Jan 31st. church 014

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Learning to Accept the Unknown

Growing in life is what we should all focus on. We need to accept that we can never control our lives, how it might turn out or where we will end up. I have become pretty good at just waking up in the morning and seeing what each day will bring since I moved to Colombia. I really try to put an effort into keeping my past and my future from my thoughts because the past is gone and the future is unknown. This way of living takes practice and strength. When a great tragedy unfolds in your life, whatever it may be, you can use it to gain knowledge and use that knowledge to better yourself. I have found that I can carry my sadness with me and still live a happy life. We all have sadness in our lives. I always say to people who speak about my daughter’s death and their heartache for me ” I am not the only person in this world who has suffered great loss.” We all have burdens we bear. Each morning when I awake I meditate a bit before I get on with the day. Sometimes the pain I feel from life experiences is hard, but I allow it to flow freely in my thoughts, then I let it go. Misha, Amaya and I I remember times of joy in my meditations and then I allow that joy to stay in my heart.

I have spoken in my past blogs about the spiritual connection I have felt with my daughter. It is something that happens and I never know when. As I write this blog I am in the United States to get the Visa required to live in Colombia. I find when I return it is very hard to get to the spiritual place I am in when surrounded by the beauty of Colombia. I resume the way I used to live, writing lists, running errands, meeting with my many great friends, and my peaceful morning meditations fall to the wayside. Sometimes I get a much needed reminder that Misha is with me and it stops me in my tracks. Recently this happened while I was with my granddaughter here in the States. I feel that I need to share this story with my readers because it will make you realize no matter who you are that your loved ones are surrounding you even when they leave the physical Earth. It will make you ponder your beliefs if you are a doubter or really have never given it much thought.

I recently went to Islamorada, Florida for the day with my partner’s mother, a dear friend, her son and my granddaughter. The day actually started before I even got in the car because of a post I made on my Facebook page I had written I was so busy that I was not finding the time to write my blog. I also said I was going to Key Largo with my granddaughter to feed the Tarpon. One of my followers has a beautiful resort there The Chesapeake Resort and was generous with an offer for us to stop for lunch and stay the night. I had never met her, but always enjoyed her comments on my flower photos, I felt a connection. I actually put her phone number in my phone and had every intention of calling her, even though I did not think I would have time to meet up. Well, life had different plans for me, the day became a wonderful journey in my life with a final message from my daughter.Amaya feeding the Tarpon

As we fed the fish my friend and I discussed where we were going for lunch. I told her that I needed to call a Facebook follower when we arrived at the restaurant because I really felt a connection with her. I don’t even know why I told Hilary this, it just came into my thoughts. We finished up and since we had brought two cars, the children came in my car and Hilary and Maria drove in front to the restaurant. As we entered the parking lot of Lazy Days I saw a woman helping an older woman walk to her car. Hilary parked next to them and I saw them all talking. I preceded to get out of my car with the rambunctious kids and walk up to them. Imagine my surprise to find out that this woman was the follower from my FB page! Hilary knew her through her husband and they quickly realized I was Villa Migelita because Hil told her she was in the Keys with her friend from Colombia. I was flabbergasted, and realized right then and there this was not a coincidence. We made plans to go down the road after lunch to her resort to let the children swim and for me to get to know Ilona.

As we entered the resort I was struck by the beauty of her spectacular place. I was already thinking why the day was unfolding this way, but I accept these things now and go with them. We all started talking about the meeting, how it was so unusual and it was like I had known Ilona for years. She asked me if Amaya was Polynesian or perhaps Hawaiian? My granddaughter has a mixed background and her slanted eyes can make someone think that. I did not know the reason for her inquiry until the very end of the day that this was the beginning of my daughter’s message to me. We continued to the pool area and went on to have the greatest time together. Ilona talked us into staying the night, with us getting up early for our drive back to Broward County. We ended up with the kids swimming and going into the hot tub and using the picnic lunch we had packed for the day as dinner. My granddaughter fell asleep on my lap while us ladies continued talking and getting to know one another. Ilona mentioned several times to Amaya that she needed to see the mermaid in the Tiki hut.Amaya

When Amaya fell asleep Ilona still was adamant that we see this mermaid. I was thinking all the time that the mermaid would be a sculpture or carving. When Amaya stirred I asked if she felt like walking over see the mermaid. My companions had decided to go the rooms to get ready for bed. As we wondered over Ilona kept saying how special this was going to be. We walked up the stairs and there she was the beautiful mermaid lit by lights, and alone in her glory. The mermaid was a gorgeous oil painting. My hair stood up on my arms as I said “this is Amaya when she is older!”. It was surreal as the day became clear to me. Misha directed me to this painting. She wanted me to know she is with me whenever I have her daughter. I could not sleep that night because I felt electricity flowing through my veins from this truly spiritual experience. I now know Misha surrounds and protects us both more than I ever did before.The Mermaid

I ran back to get Hilary and Maria. I needed them to see her. They both came without me telling them my thoughts and said the same the minute they saw the beautiful painting. It was an experience that all of us shared that day. It is one that we will always be connected by. No matter your thoughts, there is no denying that mermaid is Amaya. The same lips together half smile that my daughter and granddaughter share, the slanted eyes, the nose and shape of the face. This experience gave me so much comfort about my daughter’s death and where she is now, and much needed love that I still feel from Misha, who is always with me where ever I am.

The final blessing of the day was when Ilona knocked on the door of our suite and brought a copy of the painting to me. I have plans to frame it and place it in my office that looks out upon the beautiful mountains of Colombia and my daughter’s final resting place. I now know Amaya will be looking too, with the eyes of a mermaid.