Revelations

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.

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.