hummingsfromparadise

Thank you!

Posted on June 5, 2014June 5, 2014 by hummingsfromparadise

In my last blog I wrote about the last-minute cancellation of the trial of my daughter’s killer in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Once again the defense was granted another continuation by the Judge Trudy White. I asked everyone to write her to make sure the next trial is set and she allows no more continuations in this matter. You can read about how the prosecution allowed this to happen and notified me after I had booked an airline ticket, reserved a car and hotel room in my last blog

.I am sure Honorable Judge Trudy White received many letters from you my followers and I am writing this blog to thank you.

I thank all my over 500 followers on Facebook, Twitter, personal emails, and Google plus. If you want to add me to your circle at Google plus I would love to see you there! I am humbled by the amount of people who are taking part in my quest for #justiceformisha. She was taken to soon in life and the reality is that the deceased has no say in our legal system in the United States, but the defendant if powerful enough with a good lawyer can keep their client from facing a trial for many years. This strategy works if continued long enough because people forget, lose interest, go on with their lives, while the family of the deceased suffers from their loss and the injustice of the legal system that allows the defendant to work the system. I am only one person of millions with this problem. However, I refuse to let this defense team win this battle. I told the Victim’s Advocate when notified of the cancellation once again “this is war now” because they apparently are not concerned enough to fight for my daughter’s right to a trial, as the defense continues their manipulations.

I have a favor to ask all of you. A dear young woman who I barely know, but wanted to help myself and Misha, started a petition. This petition is here. I would like it to go viral with so many signatures to the Senator and Representative of Louisiana that no one will dare cancel The State Vs Christian Cvitanovich again. This petition will take you 30 seconds to sign and will not bring spam or any virus to your computer. We are lucky enough to live in a time where social media can change injustice. I am using this power to get the trial for my daughter. I was able to find out the next trial is on September 2, 2014. Please help me make sure it is not continued for a fifth time.

May God Bless all of you who are helping me get justice and a trial for my beloved daughter Mikel (Misha) Carson by writing letters and signing this petition. We the people should never have to go through what I am going through. Please speak out for me and for my daughter who no longer can speak for herself and was robbed of her life too early at the young age of twenty years old.

If you have not already, you can follow along with my life at Villa Migelita and what I have done since the death of my daughter. I am living in Colombia, South America in the mountains and starting a Bed and Breakfast this summer. The hummingbirds, flowers, butterflies and mountain views help with my sadness. This blog helps me get my thoughts down on paper and is a healing process for me. I appreciate all of you who read my blog regularly, and once again I am humbled by the people who I only know through the power of the Internet that are taking this cause into their heart and using actions to affect change. Michele~

References:
https://hummingsfromparadise.wordpress.com/2014/05/31/happiness-vs-closure/
http://www.change.org/petitions/state-sen-mack-white-bring-justice-to-mikel-misha-carson-who-was-killed-on-jan-31-2010?share_id=kelRAjFLEI&utm_campaign=share_button_action_box&utm_medium=facebook&utm_source=share_petition
https://plus.google.com/116678846462542605355/posts
http://www.facebook.com/VillaMigelita
http://www.villamigelita.com

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Happiness vs Closure

Posted on May 31, 2014May 31, 2014 by hummingsfromparadise

Happiness it eludes me, I reach, I stretch my arms out reaching…reaching…reaching…but it is never there right in my hands. Just when I touch it, and I think I have a hold, whoosh, it is gone.
Many would never classify going to the trial of my daughter’s killer as in that ‘category’ happiness, but to me it would bring me closure. This closure might bring me closer to that elusive word ‘happiness’. No matter the outcome, I would know I worked hard to get her justice and the trial she deserves in her life. Yes, in her life, as even though she is deceased…we are talking about the ending of her life, which is the outcome of this trial that has not taken place.

So last night I was looking at my flight to make sure it was on time, and I check my email. There it was, the Victim’s Advocate writing a short note at the 11th hour we need to talk to you…and then the second email right after the first. “Sorry I have to leave for the day, the trial is being continued.” Wow. Yes that is how they let me know that the trial was postponed. Like it was nothing. My mental preparation for 2 months discarded in that one sentence. I started to cry. Who wouldn’t? I traveled to Baton Rouge as you all remember in March to publicize the lack of justice in my daughter’s case. I was on television, I was interviewed by The Advocate and a wonderful editorial was written:( http://theadvocate.com/news/opinion/8737286-123/inside-report-trial-delays-grieve#.UzwwAwjNzvc.email) about the same thing happening to a couple who lost their baby during his stay in daycare. We both share the lack of justice. We both have the same prosecution team. We both are trying really hard to find the closure we need, and this team, well they are not delivering. So now it seems I am losing and the killer and his team are winning. He has this high-profile lawyer, who obviously uses one tried and true tactic. Delay. Delay. Continue. Delay. The judge lets it happen. The prosecution team writes me self serving emails after the fact that they are ‘hurt’ by my insinuation that there is corruption in the Louisiana judicial system. Well, google it. Louisiana is number one in corruption or in a tie with Illinois. Hello??? Are you listening Louisiana? I am not going to stand idly by while my daughter is not given her trial. I am going to write about the injustice, the heartbreak and the sadness I feel. I am exhausted from trying to get a grasp on ‘happiness’, just a little pinky finger grasp, but it keeps eluding me. I can post many photo’s of the beauty I see here in Colombia at my beautiful Villa Migelita, but do I have happiness? No. I will not have it until I get this trial for her, she needs her trial and I need closure.

Closure it is so closely connected to happiness. When the trial goes forward, will Misha have a good defense? I wonder now. I see so many publicized trials, and I watch them. They take on a different meaning when you have a child that has been murdered. I need to say it. Misha was murdered. The defendant did it. He made deliberate moves to cover his tracks. He stopped and changed his tire and took his bumper off. Now that was a hard sentence to write, my daughter’s body did that to his car. Think about that, while reading this. He hit my daughter so hard she flattened his tire. Then he traveled far away to ‘fix’ his car saying ” I hit a deer” but the next day called and said the police would be visiting because he hit a person, my daughter. He knew he hit a person, he had a DUI 9 months before, so he was probably drunk when he killed her. Now, let me muse on the prosecution…why are they letting this case which was solved fairly quickly go on for 4 and 1/2 years. Why are they letting the defense run the show? I see all the other trials that make national news and this is not what happens with them. Why is my daughter so unimportant? I can put it together, can you? Money. The defendant is from the powerful family that owns Drago’s Seafood Restaurant. This link to my newscast shows that EVEN the news reporter has to mention he is from a powerful family ( http://www.wbrz.com/videoplayer/?video_id=18796&categories=231%2C58%2C135%2C95%2C66). Disgusting.

I say one last thing to the team representing my daughter, “Stop acting like you are for her best interests” You are not. You are doing your job and nothing more, nothing less. You are cold, heartless people who get paid to do your job and that is what you do, nothing more, nothing less. Without compassion you are cold, you are heartless, you are the person who wrote me an email 7 hours before I left Colombia for my closure. You are awful. I do not have faith in you anymore. I have no faith in Louisiana. I have faith that I can make this go viral and maybe then you will do your job.

Please write the judge. You have to send a handwritten letter. Christian Cvitanovich vs Mikel Cara Carson. This letter needs to be hand written to the judge. Her name is Trudy White. 300 N Blvd. Baton Rouge, LA 70802. No more letters to the District Attorney because they have many and it obviously made no difference to them. They are robots. They have no compassion, without compassion they need to change professions. Thank you all for your letters. Anything to bring justice for Misha.

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Finding Bruno

Posted on May 22, 2014 by hummingsfromparadise

I have a new Rat Terrier named Bruno who came into my life as suddenly as Taz left. (you can read about Taz here: https://hummingsfromparadise.wordpress.com/2014/01/06/missing-taz/)Taz was ornery, spoiled, not super lovable except with those closest to him, anti social with the other dogs, loved to go for long hikes in the mountains running freely smiling and happy, dug up tarantulas, used his little front paws like hands; especially at night when he wanted to get under the covers with me, and was a quirky little guy with huge ears that showed all his thoughts by their position. Taz was always shaking, if the wind blew funny he would get scared, if a storm was coming I knew way before the clouds darkened because Taz would alert me. Taz was one of a kind, and maybe that is why I miss him so much, he was an original, a dog so irreplaceable that I thought no other dog could help with the sadness I have felt everyday since he vanished that night in Cali. That is until Bruno came into my life and my heart.

I have never seen another Rat Terrier here in Colombia. Imagine my surprise after all my months of grieving discovering a Facebook post to my page of a Rat Terrier who was so like Taz, I actually thought he might be Taz! This dog had the same ears, the expression Taz always had on his face, the same crazy spots on him, and he was found in the streets of Cali. Could it be him I wondered? Could we have been mistaken by the photo of my Taz taken by the police showing him killed by a car? My heart was racing as I called the girl who had put up the photo. I found out he was male, very nervous, so nervous they barely could catch him, and that he was about the same age as Taz. I arranged to see this dog immediately, thinking I would have a reunion with my beloved pet.

I will never forget seeing Bruno, he was exactly Taz but younger and smaller in person. He was quite nervous and immediately was a bit feisty when held, talking in a strange little voice, showing he was not so sure he was happy with his circumstances. His ears moved all around, one up the other sideways, while his eyes showed fear along with hope for a new life. He was so like Taz I started crying. I could not believe this gift that came from nowhere, Bruno, showing up because he was lucky enough to have had an angel rescue him. A lovely woman who loves animals as much as I do. She told me someone else had called for Bruno but she felt her inner voice tell her to say no, another better home was waiting for Bruno. That home was me and my farm here at Villa Migelita. I also think another person had a hand in this, even though she is not of this world anymore, my Misha.

As I sat crying with the family who had fostered Bruno, I knew he had to come with me. He was meant to be with me, and how it happened is just not a coincidence. Bruno is my gift from my daughter because she knows I have worked tirelessly to get her the trial she deserves for her wrongful death. (you can read about it here: https://hummingsfromparadise.wordpress.com/2014/02/03/misha/) This is not her first gift to me nor will it be her last. I have a dog Orion I know she also brought into my life. Before I moved to Villa Migelita he showed up suddenly too, a neighbor heard I was moving to a farm and gave him to me the night before the move. I needed a big watch dog, and had pondered many nights about it. I only rescue animals, but how would I ever find a dog that could guard without having to purchase one? Alas, I was given Orion who had gone from home to home, and finally had a forever home with me.

So you see, the Universe and my guardian angel Misha always takes care of me. I got publicity for my daughter’s lack of justice and her trial will go forward. I lost my dog and was given Bruno who has acclimated to my farm perfectly and the other dogs accepted him unconditionally. He is a little reminder of my Taz every minute from the moment I held him. He uses his paws like Taz did, he sleeps in the same position as Taz, he uses his ears to show his emotions, he is so like Taz I do double takes sometimes when he walks around, following me like a little shadow. He is my living, breathing, reincarnation of Tazzy, and for that I will be forever grateful. My heart still misses Taz, but my face smiles every single time I look at my new precious boy.

So now I move forward with hope the trial will successfully put my daughter’s killer in prison. I will not lie I have been super stressed about this forthcoming trial. Bruno has put a dent in that anxiety just by being in my world. He has given me a bit of sunshine in my countdown to the trial and having to sit in a courtroom and hear things I do not want to hear. I will think of Bruno while I sit there, I will remember out of bad always comes good. I will allow myself to let go and let the Universe handle the fate of the killer of my daughter. I know the Universe handles everything, because I found Bruno and a bit of my Taz once again.

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Pondering, Life and Friends

Posted on May 7, 2014May 7, 2014 by hummingsfromparadise

You go a little crazy when your child dies and that craziness brought me to Colombia. A decision many found controversial, but a decision that has provided healing to me after many years of turmoil. This journey, often messy, often wonderful, and often sad brought me to a point where I know whom and what I personally need to fulfill myself, the main discovery is I am my own best friend. My friendships with others have been involved in the shaping of my life, but ultimately I am the one who I need to count on during good and bad times. My mom would call this character if she was still alive. I call it strength to be me. No matter how many outside influences try to change my character, I am the one responsible for my life. The past is always in the forefront of my musings and brings forth the question of how our life relationships play a part in our life journey?

Contemplating while I lay sleepless some nights, I look back on friendships that played important roles in this formation of my life. The life I envisioned when I raised my children gone to the wayside, with only memories left to remind me it happened. When I was that soccer Mom, going to my daughter’s games to hear her cheer, routing for my son at basketball games, volunteering in the school cafeteria, making sure my family was well cared for, my thoughts when I envisioned the future were always about my children going to college and me encouraging them as they began their own life journey. There is no crystal ball to show us the future, but we have relationships that are part of the composition of all that develops. Did the unfolding of my life come with me in a predestined package when I was born? Did my decisions cause the problems my children encountered in their teen years or was it what we call free will which we all exercise as humans.

I have written of my first marriage and the birth of my daughter which you can read about here: https://hummingsfromparadise.wordpress.com/2013/11/22/being-myself/. I met my best friend for life when I married my first husband, she is still with me today as my confidant, cheering me on as I move forward here in Colombia, happy for me and what I have accomplished. Isn’t this the way we should be with our friends? Supportive, honest, and loving? I know nothing will come between us, as she is the sister I always wanted, the person I go to for advice about anything, and she is non-judgmental, which applies to me also. I really do not gossip about others, even those that have hurt me. If I have something to say, I say it to the face of the person and it is between us only. During my many years on this earth I have acquired and lost friends, some dropping from my life without notice as I raised my family, others being set aside because of treacherous behavior, and those who left from their own false judgments based on gossip or jealousy. Then there are those who have entered my life recently who are enriching me with kindness, support, and shared love for all living creatures of this world. People I have met through my website http://www.facebook.com/VillaMigelita. I remember watching TV on a standing television without a remote, and now I have connected with many through technology and I consider them friends in my new life of Colombian living! Lastly, the friends that I had lost contact with, finding me again (through FB) with their own tales of what occurred during the years we had not talked. What does it all mean?

I reflect on much during those nights of insomnia. I have one particular incident that bothers me constantly since my daughter’s funeral. When I was in my twenties before both of my marriages I had a friend. I considered her a best friend for many years. Her son grew up with my daughter as playmates he was almost 4 years older but we always did things together and when I married again, my ex-husband became friends with them both. They were always at our house, went on vacation with us, we called them family. The day Misha spoke of the incidents to me the sun was shining, my mood happy, my son in the car with us as we parked to go inside a store. “Mom he touched me where he shouldn’t have and had me touch him where I should not.” The air left the car, the words were inside my head but I could not believe them. The boy who grew up with both my children molested my daughter who had just turned 10, he was almost 14. He took her innocence. He did it while I was in the house with my 3-year-old son right there when he did it. These details came out during her counseling. The friendship ended. You would think that would be the end of this story but it is not. My ex-husband brought them back into his life when my daughter was killed. He brought that boy now a man to sit beside him in the front pew of the church next to my son. He placed the ex-friend in the pew behind where all my family was. My ex-husband had no one from his HUGE family attend except his sister. I stew on this question often; “Why did I not make a scene and have them removed?” I was in so much shock from her death is my only explanation, because I always stand up for what is right. It is something that really bothers me, so I am writing it down to get it off my chest. I wish I had approached the Priest and told him what this kid had done and I know he would have changed the situation. I did not and now I live with this inside me and will forever. I will never understand why my ex-husband did this. I know his motivation was to hurt me, but this was his daughter he disrespected at her funeral by bringing the young man who took her self-esteem during a time in her life when she should have been discovering who she was. He brought these people around my son again at a vulnerable stage in his life. It broke my heart, and during the whole funeral I was aware of their hateful presence. This was an act of treachery I meditate about often, and I never can find an answer to it. Sometimes there are not answers in our life journey, maybe we find out later when we are no longer living on this earth.

Many people were so wonderful during the week of my daughter’s death, I can not emphasize that enough. Then the funeral was over and they were gone. Poof, abracadabra, gone. Then me wandering the house with so many memories of my children, not just Misha, but my son, who was not with me much anymore. I remember that time vividly. It was awful. I still was going through the divorce from hell, and now had the huge stone of grief carried upon my back, carried with such sadness because my daughter left many angry about her death and I was the person they all took it out on. Now all those people (well most of them) are my friends because they realize I had nothing to do with the actions of my daughter in the year preceding her death. If anyone was asked they would say “she is not consumed with her daughter, but her death has changed her.” I actually went to a retirement luncheon the year after she died, full of much anticipation to see people I had not seen in a long while who knew what had happened. I was shocked by the reception of people I knew for years. I was barely spoken to, I was ignored by friends of many years, it was cruel. I then started putting things together and I realized that the people who supported me during Misha’s funeral and death really did not like me. It was clear. It was awful. I will never go back to a retirement luncheon again because I have enough of my own grief and sadness to last me a lifetime and I do not need other’s to place their preconceived perceptions on me also. I had a friend for years that I always notified of my arrival back in the States, who never really responded. Out of some sense of guilt I kept contacting her because she was wonderful during the divorce and the death of my daughter. Then she just changed. The last contact with her was me asking if she wanted to meet myself and another of her friends for lunch when I arrived? Her response? One word; “maybe” that was it she is out of my life.

So that is enough of the negativity, let’s talk about the good things. A very dear friend who was my maid of honor in the wedding of the father of my daughter recently contacted me through Facebook. We have reconnected and I see her and her husband as part of my life forever. They are making plans to visit Villa Migelita. Her husband still calls me “Missy” my nickname from childhood. Another friend also has reconnected, she a flight attendant with so much of the same stories of her horrific divorce. Then there are the flight attendants who admire what I have done, not knowing me well but asking to be my friend on Facebook, and the flight attendant friends who never have left my side during this journey of life I am on, never judging always supportive. They know who they are. I love them. Me, well, I am real excited about the Bed and Breakfast I will soon open, just like a new chapter in a book. It is my life; good or bad. I am struggling every day to get past Misha’s death, but I am winning.

For those who follow my blogs, the trial for the killer of my daughter will take place starting June 2nd. My trip and subsequent publicity made a difference.

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What Animals Can Teach Us

Posted on April 17, 2014 by hummingsfromparadise

I have long ago learned that fellow humans will let us down in life, but animals rarely do. I have been blessed with many animal friendships in my lifetime. I wish they could stay with us longer than they do. They are always beside us, loving us, adoring us, showing unwavering loyalty. Recently I have lost three of my beloved pets I brought here to Colombia with me. Colleen my collie was the first to leave me. She was getting old, showing many signs of old age when I finally made a decision to let her rest. She is so missed by all of us here at Villa Migelita. I had the comfort that her last years of living were with unlimited freedom and wide open spaces. She carried so much love in her heart, and to the end she was my loving, faithful pet. She let me know it was time to go, and I saw her leave with peace in her heart. She taught me about my truth. The truth of love that I carry inside, the love that unfolds when it is returned unconditionally. She talked to me with her eyes, which showed her soul deep inside her. She taught me to let go when it is time, she showed me with those eyes she was ready and I listened to her.

My second pet to leave me was Taz whom many of you know I lost on Christmas Eve in Cali, Colombia. You can read about his loss here:https://hummingsfromparadise.wordpress.com/2014/01/06/missing-taz Taz was still young, he was part of my heart, and I was not prepared to lose him the way I did. He was killed by a car after a woman who is evil let him out in the streets on purpose. I still think about how awful she is and if eventually karma will catch up to her and the horrible thing she did to my beloved dog. I try to think about the lesson to be learned by this situation. It has to be forgiveness. I must forgive this woman, or carry hate where there should only be my love for Taz that matters. Hate is a bitter pill to carry around inside of ourselves. So once again I am back to love, it seems that our animals teach us in so many ways about love even when it is a situation that is sudden and unexpected. Over my many years with Taz, and the enjoyment I got from his quirky personality, I learned to accept unconditionally his little mannerisms and nuances. He was a nervous dog, but super smart. He could do high-five on demand and always had his little paw up in the air if there was food to be had. He showed me that once again animals tell us all they feel with their eyes, they speak to us that way. He spoke to me the last time I saw him with those eyes as he looked at me through the window that night. That is my last memory of him, watching me walk off his eyes following me with only love radiating from them. I can only hope my animals feel the return of that unconditional love from me when I look back at them with my eyes. href=”https://hummingsfromparadise.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/04/taz-farm-where-wedding-007.jpg”> Taz , farm where wedding 007

My third pet I just lost was Cloudy my cat of many years. Cloudy was the first pet I got for my children along with his litter-mate Midnight who had died many years before Cloudy. Cloudy lived a long life for a cat. He was always so affectionate and loved to sit in anyone’s lap. He came with me to Colombia on the airplane and just took it in stride. When I first arrived and was renting a house before I bought Villa Migelita, Cloudy would hide in one of the rooms for the longest time. I called him the cave dwelling cat because I thought he would never come out and be part of the household again. When I moved to Villa Migelita, Cloudy got a new lease on life. He became an outdoor cat for the first time in his life. He no longer used a kitty litter and had his own little basket house outside in the laundry area. He loved it. He would sit for hours outside enjoying the sun. I have never seen a cat transform like he did. He was so happy. Cloudy taught me that no matter how old we might be, it is possible to change. He accepted the change of his living conditions with such happiness and I know his last years on this Earth were filled with love of life and surroundings. He slowly was losing weight in the last few months and started staying inside the house again and I knew he was not going to live much longer. He was in his 18th year of life and he was wanting to be with me all the time. He lay with me at my desk, and in my lap the last few months. He occasionally would bask in the sun, but stayed inside once again. I would find him in the mornings sleeping next to my dog Orion. Then he would follow me into my office to keep me company. When I recently went to the States he just gave up. I feel guilty as I know he died from missing me. It is with tears in my eyes I write this, as he was found in his little basket house outside not breathing, but looking like he just went to sleep. He left this world without me, and I am so sad about that. I am not sad about the life I gave him. His death has taught me to appreciate every second I have with my animals, especially the older ones as they can go so quickly. He taught me that when it is time to leave this Earth to do so with dignity. He taught me to cherish the moments I have with any of my animals as they can leave us without warning. Cloudy taught me about kindness and the loyalty of love that transcends and embraces us even when they are no longer with us.

So now I have acquired two new babies at Villa Migelita. I needed to smile again and laugh from the antics only pets can give to us. I adopted a baby kitten and named him Tommi and an Amazon parrot and named her Luci. They both are fun as only the young of the animal kingdom can be. I am learning that with my new additions I can embrace the memories of the past while smiling for the future. We might not have a long time with our animals while we are lucky enough to have them, but we have a long time to remember them and accept what they can teach us. My new kitten has already taught me she is quite resilient and can adapt to the dogs quite well and holds her own with all of them! Luci is showing me that she has quite the personality for such a little girl and feeding her by hand makes my day. I had actually waited to take her as I was worried about the hand feeding. Now she thinks I am her Mommy, her actual mother abandoned the nest and she was found by a neighbor. So I have two more rescues to add to my list of pets, and I look forward to more lessons in life that only animals can teach us.

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Staying Strong

Posted on March 21, 2014 by hummingsfromparadise

I feel very good about myself this week. I did something I really did not want to do. I flew to Baton Rouge and publicized the lack of justice that is taking place four years after my daughter’s death. I have dreaded going to that city, driving on the same highway where she was murdered, facing the reality I have known for four years. I was really stressed, feverish, tired and sad during this trip to Louisiana. It felt like I had left my body and Misha entered me and pushed me forward from the minute I stepped onto the plane out of Cali, Colombia. I dread the trial also, when it finally takes place. It is unimaginable to me still that my daughter was killed. I live one day at a time until I find closure in this journey for justice.

I have continued living my life with purpose since she was killed, a purpose that I want my granddaughter to observe as she grows up. I have made a plus out of a minus as my mother used to say. I went from a bitter divorce with nothing but anger and negativity surrounding me to whom I am now, a forgiving but strong woman. I have tried to inspire others with my actions and reactions to all of life’s difficulties. I have slowly made a success of my life based on who I am, not other’s perceptions of what they want me to be. I have shown others that I can accomplish anything I set my mind to, even to publicizing the lack of a trial in my daughter’s death.

I now speak Spanish, have a beautiful Villa in Colombia, and a business plan to start my Hostel this summer with like-minded people who enjoy the beauty of nature as my guests. When I look back, I never thought I would end up in Colombia at this stage in my life. I accept that we as humans can not control life’s circumstances or journey, but we can make the best of every situation, even the death of a child. Now I can only hope that my publicity will bring results for my deceased child. I again ask you to write to the DA in Baton Rouge and insist that a trial does take place in June. Here is the email: Ron.Gathe@ebrda.org. I also am including the link to the news report from channel 2 WBRZ in Baton Rouge.
I will see an editorial soon in the newspaper The Advocate about the lack of a trial going into the fifth year. I am proud of what I accomplished. I intend to keep publicizing this until I see results for Misha, even though it is so difficult accept and face.
Please click on this link to view the video: http://www.wbrz.com/videoplayer/?video_id=18796&categories=231%2C58%2C135%2C95%2C66

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If I Had Known

Posted on March 8, 2014 by hummingsfromparadise

If I had known the moment you were put in my arms, I would only have twenty years with you, what would my thoughts have been? Nobody every tells you the truth about loss. You don’t only lose someone you spend your life shaping, teaching and loving, you lose part of yourself. Your heart. Your humanity. Maybe even your soul. Through all of our life together, no matter the distance, or estrangements, a bond existed that remained strong. This bond came to me the night you died when I awoke at the same time that car threw your body, and it remains strong even in your death. I have only photo’s now. I look through them sometimes, there are so many and I thank God for that. However, they make me sad. I want to put myself into a time capsule and go back to each memory. I want to look into your eyes again and say I love you, I miss you, and I wish the last years of your life had not been so hard. I would tell you how strong you were, even when you knew you made decisions that you wished you had thought through more. We would talk about a lot of things when we walked to the beach with Amaya in her stroller. You were going to school, but you had a baby and you were only 19 years old. I was helping you care for her, but it was a difficult situation. You wanted to have fun and go out more, like your friends were doing. We shared so much those last months you lived with me. We went to see Celine Dion one year to the day before your death. It was such a wonderful night, magical really, who would know you would be dead the next year? I think of these things now when I wake up and can not sleep. I cry a lot, like now, when I write down how I feel. I am so angry you have not seen justice yet. The man who killed you over four years ago walks free, continuously getting the trial postponed. I feel helpless. I am doing what I can, I am writing about it. I will share this with as many people as I can Misha. I will ask them to write to the assistant District Attorney to ask why they are not fighting for your rights to have a trial? It has been postponed three times now. I wish I could go to the principal like I did when you were younger and kids bullied you when you wore glasses. I wish I could have the ability to get this publicized like I see other unjust situations get publicity. All I can do is try. I will send this to every news organization I can and maybe I can get you your trial. I am and always was your biggest champion. I know you see that from Heaven, as you visit me in the form of hummingbirds and butterflies everyday. Just now while I write our song “My Heart Will Go On” came on the internet radio. I know you are around me in spirit always. Remember how we held hands and sang along at her concert to this song? I feel you next to me now, looking over my shoulder as I write. This photo montage will show people you had a wonderful life that was taken too soon. I will remind people you have not seen justice yet. I will do what I can.

Misha photos 031 </a src=”https://hummingsfromparadise.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/03/misha-004.jpg?w=218″

Now I ask my blog followers to write the Assistant District Attorney of Baton Rouge, Louisiana. His name is Ron Gathe. This is his email:Ron.Gathe@ebrda.org. This is a link to an article written at the time of her death: http://articles.sun-sentinel.com/2010-02-17/news/fl-louisiana-hit-and-run-20100216_1_deerfield-. The man who hit her has been free for over four years and is living his life like he never took her life. Look at these photo’s and remember she was killed while trying to help someone, someone who did not even mention Misha when she talked with the police. Misha was left on the side of the Interstate I-10 for hours dead. My daughter Mikel Cara Carson deserves justice. I want to make sure it happens. This man needs to stand trial and there should be no more continuances in this case. I sincerely ask for all of you to write this to the DA. Misha lost her life, Amaya lost her mother, her brother lost his sister, and I lost my child. My heart still goes on, but it will never be the same without her.

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Misha

Posted on February 3, 2014 by hummingsfromparadise

Another year goes by and I have not seen justice for my daughter. Four years ago on Jan 31, 2010 my daughter was killed when she got out of her car to try to help a car she saw struck on highway I-10 in Louisiana. She was driving home from work in the early morning hours and saw a car get hit. She pulled her car over and ran to knock on the window to see if the woman driving was ok. As she was knocking on the window another car entered the highway from an exit ramp and hit that car again, my daughter was thrown to her death.The girl she tried to help drove away and called 911 and never mentioned my daughter. The guy who hit her kept driving. Her body was on the side of the road for hours until the morning traffic started and someone called in to the police to report seeing her laying there. Pieces of his car were left at the scene. He was caught within 2 weeks because the body shop he took his car to, miles away, called to report a car being fixed as per law in Louisiana. They found my daughter’s DNA on the car. He was arrested and remains free four years now on bail. He is from a wealthy New Orleans family and there are a million questions I want to ask about that night, and why after four years there has not been a trial.

Question number one: “Why did you call 911 and not mention my daughter?” this to the woman who drove away and left my daughter dead, she gave her life trying to help you.
Question number two: “Did you know Misha?” I can not imagine my intelligent daughter getting out of her car on an interstate without knowing the person, however she had a kind heart so this could be possible, but she was a mother of a 2-year-old. I still can not fathom her putting her life at risk because she loved her daughter with all her heart and soul.
Question number three: “Did you and the man who killed my daughter know each other and her also?” I have found the whole story of her death so full of holes. It is a constant thought in my mind. “Did they all know each other?”
Question number four: “Does the prosecutor plan on bringing into the trial that the county coroner who handled my daughter’s autopsy is the defendant’s relative?” I found out that they are related. I would think this would be prejudicial, to say the least.
Question number four: “Will this trial actually go forward on March 17th as told to me by the victim’s advocate assigned to this case?” Four DAMN YEARS! I am sorry but I am angry! Why? People lose memory in that amount of time. I keep being told to back off, to let it go, to not hurt the case. “Louisiana law is different, we have the Napoleonic code.” I say “This is my daughter my child, the mother of my granddaughter, she deserves justice!”
Question number five: “Why is this defendant getting to live his life normally, like he never killed a daughter, sister, mother?” He acts like he did nothing, his family has money “is he buying his way out of being prosecuted?” Seriously? 35,000 bail for taking a life? I think he should have been in jail until the trial, not living a life while my daughter is dead. Perhaps if he was in jail we would have seen a trial by now!
Question number six: “Am I going to see the woman who my daughter tried to help testify, what is her name, please PLEASE let me find out why she did not call in my daughter’s death and let her lie on the road for hours, dead!” I want to look at this woman while she testifies about that night. I want to get the image of my daughter dead on that road out of my mind, but it is there with me everyday. A story on the internet had a photo of Misha dead on the interstate, taken after she was found. I hate that she lay there for hours. It is devastating to me.
Question number seven: “Will this trial actually take place in March?” The trial has been postponed twice due to the defense posturing. Makes me wonder who is being paid off. Just saying.
Question number eight: “Can little old me make a difference in this injustice?” I say yes! I need help with those who follow my blog to make noise if I do not see a trial in March for her death.

This is my request. I ask all of you to remember Mikel Cara Carson from this day forward in your thoughts and prayers. Whatever you believe, just think about her, about her daughter she left behind, her brother who still grieves so greatly he is never going to be the same. Remember that when something like this happens people are affected. WE are never the same, but we continue to live because we have no choice but to go on with this unfathomable grief in our hearts. We deserve to see justice in this case, it has been four years. We have waited long enough. Please share this blog with your friends and family. I am just sharing one story of injustice in this great world, but it is so necessary for me to see her get her day in court . If the trial is postponed yet again I will write another blog with the District Attorney’s address. We can all write him, and we can share this to news outlets, to twitter, to Facebook. We can make a difference. All I ask for is a trial. Just a trial. Let it happen for my daughter who gave her life trying to help someone that night on Jan 31st 2010.

The trial is scheduled to start on March 17th. Here is a link to the story published in the Sun-Sentinal: http://articles.sun-sentinel.com/2010-02-17/news/fl-louisiana-hit-and-run-20100216_1_deerfield-
If they postpone this trial once again, I will be calling on everyone to help me make this injustice public. I leave you with two photo’s. One is of Misha (Mikel Cara) before her death, and the other is her daughter Amaya. Amaya turned 6 this month. She is a lovely child who was just two years old when her mother was killed.

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Things That Happen in the Night

Posted on January 21, 2014January 22, 2014 by hummingsfromparadise

This blog is about life, my life in Colombia. Sometimes I bring in the past, sometimes I am in the present time. I have a lovely home here in the mountains of Colombia. I had no idea when I invested here that Colombia would be moving into its own as a major economic presence in South America, nor that Colombia would be featured in Forbes as a wonderful place to retire(http://money.msn.com/retirement/best-countries-to-retire-to-in-2014-1). My friend and author John Lundin is writing a book that is in development to be a movie that will be filmed here in beautiful Colombia (http://www.prlog.org/12270412-sundance-is-colombia-the-new-hollywood.html). I do know that I have really settled into my life here in South America while enjoying myself everyday photographing nature, making video’s for all to see in real time on my Facebook page (www.facebook.com/VillaMigelita) and living amongst the world’s happiest people according to recent article’s written about Colombia. These polls say the people of Colombia have a 75% happiness rating. I would rate it higher, because of my own experiences, but I will definitely agree that this is the place to live and be happy!

Alas, in my last three blogs I shared unhappy stories of recent life experiences, which can happen to anyone in any place. Life is not always beautiful photo’s and happy postings on Facebook. Real life is a mess sometimes. That is why I really give thanks for my surroundings in this beautiful land of Colombia and the blessings I do have. I take photo’s to document daily occurrences in my life that make me smile and hopefully make other’s smile too. I write to help me with a pain I have in my heart from losing my daughter, also the pain I have from difficult situations that can just pop up out of nowhere. I write for healing, I write for my peace inside of me, I write to help anyone who has been following my blog realize we all have difficulties in life. Most people keep the misery of life’s terrible times inside themselves without letting on they are sad, angry, tired, wanting a divorce, recovering from an illness, a lost pet, mean people, death, unkind gossip, disease, family problems, job problems, not having a job, abuse, addiction, I could keep going but you get the point. I have had most of these things at some point in my life affect me in some way but kept the façade of a perfect life to the outside world. Now I no longer want to do that, I want to be authentic to myself and to use that authenticity as a way of helping others to be authentic too. It seems this world is one without a lot of authenticity anymore, not just from people in our lives, but from products we eat, to the need to impress others with possessions we do not need, to worrying about what other’s think, to living a life we can not afford, to spending more time worrying about what other’s are doing than focusing on what we can do to make ourselves better. One thing I do love about life in Colombia, the people are unaffected. They do like drama and can go on and on about the latest community saga, but they forgive and love without reservation. This is what I strive to do. I strive to forgive all the past hurts in my life, and to use this pureness of a heart without hate to live in peace.

Recently I had to become more independent when my partner went through a breakdown and was arrested. I was frightened to be alone, even though my life with him during the prior months had been less than ideal. However, I picked myself up like I always do, trusting myself and my determination to succeed. I used a friend as an interpreter for a month, but realized I could do OK by myself and we parted ways. I hired an outdoor worker full-time and a new maid who has organized my house wonderfully. I started making my own phone calls, I also was receiving phone calls and I realized I could speak Spanish well enough to get on with life just fine by myself. When my battery died on my truck I called my mechanic that lives in La Buitrera and he came up to start my truck, we then drove my truck to town, his wife and 9 month old son came along. He left me at the grocery store while he searched for a good price on a new battery. I had a lovely day with him and his wife, and dropped them back off at their home in the evening after we had done a lot of errands. He not only helped me get my battery but drove me to get my food for the animals and a few other things I needed. You see, this is how Colombian’s are, they do more than is expected, and show what human kindness is about through their actions. I knew after this day I could always count on him for any help I might need. I did not realize I would need his help again so soon. What happened on my short ride back up the mountain to Villa Migelita was the basis for the title of this blog.

It had just turned into night when I left his family to drive home, my mountain road was really dark. I turned on my bright lights and went very slow. We are fortunate enough in my community of El Meson to be getting a paved road right now. The construction of this road is to say the least ‘a bit hazardous’ and I am always nervous when I drive, but nighttime is very scary. I was taking deep breaths and telling myself “just go slow, you will be fine” when I went through the first area of road construction. They are building one side at a time, and the other side is left open for traffic. The road itself is really just the size of one way, and all driver’s have an unwritten rule those going up the mountain have the right of way which means those coming down have to pull over to the extreme side or even back up if they encounter another car on the way up. I got through the first area of construction ok, when I encountered neighbor’s needing a ride up near my house. They had one motorcycle with a young man driving and two women with large full sacks which they tossed in the back of my truck. I became distracted as the ladies started talking to me, and was not concentrating like I had been before. We came to another area of construction, I was on the paved side now, the other side was the rocky original road and there were large metal wires sticking out from the newly cemented road I was driving on. My truck tires are large, the paved road is very small when cut in half. Imagine half of one lane to drive on. It is dark, there are no lights except mine from the truck. I am trying to not hit the wall on one side, shadows making it appear closer than it was, so I over compensate and go a little to far towards the center and next thing I know my tire just barely goes off and then the back tire goes off and I am on those metal wires! I was smart enough to stop immediately and call my mechanic friend who said he would be right there. I get out of the car with my passengers to see where I am, and make sure my tires are alright. I look around and am happy to see I am right in front of a home with a long driveway, but as I am looking another truck comes down the opposite way and stops less than a few feet in front of my truck! I then look behind me and there are at least 6 cars waiting with headlights on to go up the mountain, along with a bunch of motorcycles! The moto’s all had stopped and they stayed to help even though they could have passed by me and been on their way. I have never seen this much traffic ever on my little mountain road, and realize it is because it is the day before New Year’s Eve and all the people who own farms come from the city to spend the holiday in the tranquility of the beautiful mountains. I become very overwhelmed, and just a bit dramatic myself! I guess being in a Spanish country has affected me a bit, as I was speaking Spanish and talking with my hands “Lo siento, esto fue un accidente!” Everyone is out milling around and talking about what they can do to get my truck into the driveway without hurting the tires. No one is mean, no one honks their horn, no one thinks it is my fault. The guy who is driving the other truck speaks some English and talks to me to calm me down. He gets behind the wheel of my car, as my outdoor worker arrives on his bicycle to help too. There are at least 20 men helping at this point. The women are holding my hand, and telling me all is “tranquila”. I watch as these men get hammers and hit the wires down and into the ground, then place a board under my tires and start backing up and going forward little by little. I wonder where the hammers, the board the tools they use come from? This is the way of Colombian men, they have everything and can do anything. It was harrowing, it was unbelievable, it is my life in the mountains of Colombia. Slowly they get my truck backed into the driveway of the house, but then we have his truck that is right there blocking all of the traffic that needs to go up the mountain. Again, very slowly he got his truck into that driveway too, by backing up with the other men helping. Whew. Done. Now I stand there as all those cars drive by, feeling foolish. Do you know every single one said “Happy New Year” and greeted me nicely? Not one person was annoyed or angry.

After the traffic left, my mechanic gets in my truck and drives me home. His brother and the wives are on the motorcycles or in the truck with me and everyone follows me home. I have a car full of groceries and big bags of food. My worker is in the back of the truck with his bicycle along with the original passengers who I had given a ride to. Everyone is smiling, talking and laughing. We all are happy to have gotten me out of that situation without damage to my tires. When we arrive at Villa Migelita, it reminds me of a procession or a parade. Moto’s and my truck all laughing and festive. we enter and everyone pitches in to unload my truck. Then before they leave my mechanic told me he would pick me up for New Year’s Eve if I wanted to stay with his family for the celebration. I say I will call, but know that I want to spend New Year’s alone because of the loss of my dog Taz. I could never celebrate not knowing what had happened to him. So although this is not a Disney movie, I want to say I had a very happy ending that night. I also learned to appreciate that things that happen in the night can also bring new friends into my life and perhaps I should not drive again when it is dark. That my new life in my small pueblo of El Meson has heartache just like my life did in the USA, but I acknowledge all I am learning about myself and the people who live here. Mostly, I enjoy that I am able to use my writing to tell the world of just how sweet it is to live and discover a new culture, a new language and new simpler lifestyle. May God Bless all of you with a very blessed 2014 and may we all have a joyous year with new beginnings and happy endings.

The photo above is me burning the 2013 calendar. This is a tradition here to let go of all the bad things of the past year. In an update to my past blogs, my ex-partner is recovering and I have forgiven him. He has been diagnosed with Bi-Polar disorder and is taking medicine that has changed his life. He has been ill for several years, and started using drugs to self-medicate. He is grateful to have his life back, to feel good, and to rehabilitate. We are friends again, and will see what the future holds by taking things one day at a time. My sweet dog Taz was run over by a car. I am still grieving him but at least I know what happened. I am working on trying to forgive the woman who let him go out into the streets of Cali, Colombia on Christmas Eve.

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Missing Taz

Posted on January 6, 2014January 6, 2014 by hummingsfromparadise

I lost an important connection to my deceased daughter on Christmas Eve. Taz ran away and a piece of my heart left with him. I was visiting the home of my friend’s brother and left him in the care of his mother while I walked to the grocery with my friend, his brother and his little daughter. I was told not to bring Taz as the store would not allow him in. I wanted to bring him, I could have had one of us stand outside with him. I will never forgive myself for not doing this, this is a moment I replay constantly in my mind. I probably will for the rest of my life, as this was the last time I saw Taz. He was sitting next to my friend’s mother, looking happy. I know I did not fear danger for my little Taz, but my inner voice spoke to me and I did not listen. Apparently the wife of the brother is an evil person who became enraged when her older daughter called and said a dog was in the house. She rushed home to her house and deliberately opened a door to her outdoor patio which had a decorative fence, but Taz could get through the slats and he took off. I really never even got a good look at this woman because we had not even been inside the house for more than 5 minutes before we left for the store, we were gone 20 minutes total. I was going to the store to buy the family some snacks and a bottle of booze for the evenings celebration. I wanted to be hospitable. Imagine how I felt when I found out what she did. I was in such distress and anguish, I went crazy with grief in the middle of the street. All the neighbors came outside and the woman will forever have to live with the knowledge that her neighbor’s knew what she did to an American. In Colombia they call this “chisme”, the talk of the community about others. They will talk chisme about her forever, and they all knew Taz was my connection to my deceased daughter because my Spanish is pretty good now, and I made that clear when I was crying in the streets “why would you do that to my innocent dog?” So they will think she is cursed also because of Taz’s connection to my daughter who is dead. She will get her karma but I will not get Taz back unless there is a miracle. We immediately left to go looking for Taz all over until the early morning hours. We never found him. I have continued looking for him still, using flyers, the internet and walking the streets and talking with people in the area. I have had no luck, and fear I will never see him again. Thinking of this makes my chest ache with pain, and my eyes fill with tears. He was no ordinary dog, and to me the single most important association to my daughter left in this world.

My daughter and I found Taz in the mountains of Tennessee on her 16th birthday. We were shopping, getting our nails done, having a special Mother/Daughter day. She had a summer birthday so she never really had parties with her school friends and we always spent our summers in the mountains. Her birthday celebrations were always small for the most part, and the time that we spent together during the summers go hand in hand with each year she grew older. Taz is a wonderful memory of those times. Taz became part of the celebration of her life. Looking back I realize she only had 4 more years of life to live from that day forth and Taz never was the same after her death just like I will never be the same. That is why I need to write this down. I mourn Taz like I mourn her.

We brought Taz back to our RV that day, having found him in a local store that had puppies from their Rat Terrier in a small kennel on display. It was just someone who needed to give those puppies to a good home. Misha fell in love with Taz, he was such a cute little thing and turned out to be super smart too. He had a little Chihuahua in him, and Misha and I thought he would turn out small and we could take him everywhere with us. We started taking him in my purse everywhere we went. Taz always knew to be quiet, he would lay quietly inside and not make a sound. Misha had him sleep with her and he developed a habit of pulling back the comforter with his paws and snuggling underneath really close to her legs every night. By the time the summer was over and we returned to South Florida he was trained and also knew many tricks which she taught him.

The year she was 16 is closely connected to Taz. She would come home from school to find him waiting anxiously for her. He would sit next to her as she had a snack and watched TV. This is when he learned his most fun little mannerism, the high-five. She would take a bite then offer Taz a bite after he would give her five. I have fond memories of the two of them sitting in front of her TV having their afternoon snack, Taz always on his hind legs, front legs in the air, paw reaching out towards her hand. As the year progressed Misha grew up and so did Taz. He was not a real small dog, like we thought he would be, but he still came everywhere with us. Misha would have friends sleep over and Taz was always in the spot under the covers at night laying next to her legs.

We went to the mountains one more time after Taz came into our life, the year she turned 17. I remember we took two cars to Tennessee that summer, Misha, Taz and I in one, and my ex-husband, my son with my two Collies along with the RV being pulled by the other car. It was a fun drive with Taz in Misha’s lap the entire time, Misha and I laughing and singing to CD’s she had made for the trip. Taz always was with her, she would carry him and he would put his little front paws on her forearm and hold on like a person. That summer was the last summer of really good times as life took over and things changed. Misha’s senior year was full of drama that only a teenage girl can bring into a home, and my ex and I split for the first time during that year. Taz remained steadfast in her life and was her constant companion until she got pregnant after her senior year was done, and then she moved out. Taz stayed with me, and has never been apart from me since. Misha came in and out of his life after she had my sweet granddaughter, and my granddaughter always asks for Taz when I am with her or I talk with her on the phone. I have photo’s of Taz looking at Amaya on the bed when she was just a baby, he knew Amaya was Misha’s and therefore loved her like he loved Misha.

When Misha passed I know Taz knew, because my granddaughter would visit without her. My granddaughter would come stay with me and he would follow her around and always be near wherever Amaya would be playing. Taz showed his feelings through his eyes. When I moved to Colombia and brought him on the plane in a crate, he never made a peep and just was happy to have me near, his eyes shone with happiness that wherever I was going he was going too. He has enjoyed his almost 3 years here in Colombia, the freedom he has had of running in the mountains with my other dogs, the life on my farm, chasing tarantula’s (yes Taz has a knack for digging up spiders or finding iguana’s), or any small creature. Rat Terrier’s are farm dogs, he actually killed some of my ducklings when I had my first hatchlings. I remember finding them, and Taz hiding from me because he knew he did wrong. He did what his genetics told him to do, and I forgave him and kept my ducklings safe from him after that.

Taz is terrified of water and thunderstorms. I feel like a mother who has lost her child, never to know again where they are. I can not sleep well, nor can I quit thinking about his fears. He is not a dog that can be friendly to someone who might try to help him. That is why I am so distraught. Taz might not allow someone to help him. He will keep looking for me, this I know. This is why I am so devastated, I was his world and he was mine. We have mourned Misha together and now he is gone too. The last time I went to Cali to look for him, all the flyers were pulled down, and no one had even seen him, and he had been cited before. I fear he is running and running looking for me, going fast to nowhere. Now I ask everyone to keep Taz in their thoughts, to send positive energy. I am trying one more thing. I have hired a guy who knows the streets, he will find Taz if anyone can. If he does not locate Taz, then I can do no more except pray Taz has a new home with lovely people who enjoy all the tricks he will show them for food.

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