All who follow my blog know I believe in the Universe and spiritual signs. The Universe, nature, and the environment are my religion. I’m not a believer in organized religion. That is not to say those that do have it wrong. This also doesn’t mean I am an atheist or an agnostic because I have no doubt that God exists. I’m happy to do my meditation within my world of beauty at Villa Migelita Ecolodge, because I consider nature to be my church. I believe that if we allow others to influence our thinking through their opinions and bias we cannot be free thinkers.
Everyone who follows my blog knows I am in Cali, Colombia because I have had hip surgery. I’m challenging myself every single day with physical therapy and it is not easy. I’m weak after my hour of intense exercises. I’m also shaky and hungry. Yesterday while riding the bike I felt a pain in my right leg and it is difficult to accept that I am in for a long process to get back to where I was before I found out I had CAM, and started living with undeniable pain in my hips. That pain is gone, but new pain is arriving as my physical therapist demands more from me at every session. I’m walking as much as I can now without crutches. This week my PT told me to use them less. I bring one crutch with me now when I go out because I use it if I need to stand anywhere for a long time, for hills, and for stairs. I don’t use them at all in the house. This is new territory for me, a transition perhaps, I have to accept I’m no longer the exercise queen, but an older woman who still thinks young.
This past weekend I had so much fun with Jazmin, she is my rock. I find myself focusing on many things that are important to my physical self. Without her support it would be quite difficult to be in Cali for a month! I’m sure I would not have plans like I do, nor go out as much. She keeps me young in thought and in style. Including, making me wear shorts and changing the color of my lipstick!
While we were out this past weekend I was thinking so much about Misha and how Jazmin takes care of me. Jazmin is close to the age Misha would be if she was still alive. Sometimes, I feel Misha is inside of Jazmin. I know that sounds strange, but Misha would be telling me to change my lipstick, to wear shorts and she would be making me get out and do things. She was always that way with me, even when we didn’t get along. Misha was always in my closet using my clothes. Now Jazmin uses my clothes also. She is so much like Misha, but there is no other side to Jazmin, she is who she is and never changes. Jazmin is a young mother like Misha would be and a person who appreciates what is happening in her life as we work together. She also is funny, inspiring, kind, and my best friend. Jazmin brings thoughts of Misha to my mind often.

After a fun evening with Jazmin on Saturday, when we got home there was a photo waiting for me in Facebook messenger. My cover photo of Misha as a young girl, with a little friend . It was from a friend I hung out with in the early years of my marriage, before everything went wrong. I’m not really in touch with her much anymore, but it seems Misha always reaches out to me through different ways, always unexpectedly. The photo had been sent only minutes before I arrived back at my rented place here in Cali, Colombia. I had never seen this photo before, and it took me by surprise because as I said before I had been thinking a lot about Misha recently.
I have discovered over the past eight years that you make friends, lose others, make new bonds, but the emotional pain doesn’t change, it holds on with a grip that cannot be undone. More sadness and grief are always waiting in the corner ready to punch you in the gut when you least expect it. I’m still trying to make peace with losing touch with my granddaughter. I speak to her every so often, but she is being controlled and she can do nothing about it at her young age, she sounds very sad and scared to say much when I do talk with her. I’ve learned to accept that bad people will hurt children and destroy their self-esteem to get even for long ago slights. Not even my slights, but maybe something Misha had done before she was killed.
When I was out that evening with Jazmin I kept thinking about how much Misha would enjoy the lifestyle I lead in Colombia, a life filled with adventure, peace and lovely friends. I often think she could really be herself here in Colombia, as I have found out myself. When I saw the photo of Misha’s sweet face with freckles, I teared up. Somehow, she is watching me. I can’t explain everything that has happened since she passed, but it seems when I have some difficult times she sends a message. This time it was her smile. Still the same as she grew older, lips together and mischievous. Honestly, she must know someway that I’ve been missing her a lot while I heal from surgery. She let me know she misses me too.
Wonderful stories
LikeLike
Thanks so much Mary Ellen
LikeLike