Posted in Cali Colombia, child death, Colombia, family, friendship, Grief, hip surgery, life lessons, parents of deceased children, sadness, Signs of the Universe, Spiritual Presence, strength, Uncategorized

Another sign from Misha

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!savingPNG

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.

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I’m wearing shorts! Even with those white legs of mine.

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.

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Posted in child death, Colombia, Devastating sadness, Disappointment, family, Grief, life lessons, love, Nature Symbolism, parents of deceased children, Spiritual Presence, Uncategorized

A Dream

The cover photo is Villa Migelita Ecolodge the very first time I visited. I had been looking at many properties and I knew immediately when I saw this Villa it was the place I had been waiting to find.

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This photo was also taken on my first visit, look at the Orb. Misha is with me here. She is in a parallel universe, but she shows up sometimes and I cannot ignore the signs. A definite angel in the light of my photo.

I loved the Italian style look of this old Villa, I loved the wildness and the mountain views. I wanted to live in a climate that had no need for air conditioning. I enjoy the tranquility of my Villa which is now a legal hotel in the rain forest of Colombia. I could see it was just in need of some loving attention. Butterfly video and photos 008

The American and Colombian flags fly high

Today Misha would be 29 years old. Yesterday I went to where she is buried in her special garden to talk to her. I don’t do this often because I see her special resting area all the time, and I feel her presence. Today, I felt her drawing me to the garden where a simple angel marks her resting place. The angel was turned on its side. I sat it upright and thought she wanted me to do this. She is around me in her soul presence. When I feel especially sad she sends me a hummingbird, and always the same kind. She sent one on Friday. It is the Long billed hermit hummingbird of Colombia. My housekeeper called me because she found it in my office. Always they enter my office, and always the same species. Misha knows this is my place to write and to watch all of my hummingbirds. The interesting part is this species do not ever use the feeders, I rarely see them from the window of my office: except one comes almost every morning and looks at me through the window for a moment and leaves.

I recently wrote a blog about a time when Misha and I were having problems. All these times seem so long ago. But they exist and need to be written down so that many who were cruel to me during the time of her death know how cruel they actually were. I am writing for my healing.  It is not true that one gets over a death of a beloved person as years pass. It is also not the truth that even if the person who has died did horrible things to you, your love didn’t exist. What is true is you feel confusion about the grief you carry inside for the rest of your life. I still have my memories of all the wonderful times from my life with her, but I have awful memories too. That is why I’m writing these blogs in preparation for the book that I’m writing simultaneously. I want to be clear about how a child that took me to the depths of despair was also one who took me to the heights of love.

Recently I had a dream where she came to me. It has been so long since this has happened. I was back in time, the time when I was preparing for my move to Colombia. I was in her room, and I was boxing things and they were from many years of redecorating her room. Remember, this is a dream and actually the room had been empty of her personal possessions for a long time, but in my dream it was the way her room looked the last time it had been redecorated. I felt deep and unrelenting sadness as I picked up items that brought memories with them. I could see the colors of sheets, the stripes in these floor cushions she had, the curtains that covered her closet. It was all so detailed. Then she appeared and was just watching. Tears were falling from her eyes, and we made eye contact. Her hair was blond like in high school. She gave me her lips together half-smile as the tears fell. Then the tears became snowflakes frozen on her face and I woke up.

As I lay in the darkness on my bed I tried to go back to sleep and to the dream, just to see her again. I wanted to understand why the snowflakes? I understood the tears, as I had them falling down my face when I awoke. She feels badly about how she left this world and me. We had a love that transcended the bad times, a love that was flawed but real. A love that no one can take from me with gossip or lies about the actual reality of our relationship. The reality she knew and the truth of the last years of her life when she changed so dramatically.

The significance of this dream is something I will never know, but I realize she is sad for me. She is also in my sphere of the Universe still. This dream makes me realize that my dream of having a hotel and continuing on with my life as best I can is the best way to deal with such deep rooted memories of another lifetime. A situation I carry inside me. Until I write everything down, I will feel incomplete.

Maybe the snowflakes mean she is frozen in time, somewhat like myself. Even though I have accomplished so much, I continue to transmit to those around me, pieces of myself that Misha shattered and left me to deal with. By writing this on the day she was born 29 years ago, I am committing myself to telling the truth, the good and the bad. The joy that I felt  that day when she entered this world was transcendent, the sadness I felt when she left this world was transcendent.

Her birthday holds more significance than her death day, because she had the world and life before her. She made wrong choices as she grew into her teen years. She left me alone to deal with all of it after she was killed. My way of getting on with my life is certainly controversial to some, and maybe to others quite impressive. Whatever may be in anyone’s minds is not of importance to me. What is important is that Misha didn’t have the chance to grow into the woman she should have become and live her life as a mother, sister, and a daughter. With that I wish her a Happy Birthday and can only hope she is still actually with me, because she came to me in a dream.

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Devastating sadness, Disappointment, Entreprenuer, expat life, Grief, life lessons, parents of deceased children, sadness, Uncategorized

Jail Time

That time I went to jail I have never written about. People who are close to me know. I am writing a chapter for my book now about my 36 hours in Broward County jail.  It is still so fresh in my memory. It was horrible, I was shown a side of society I didn’t know existed. Jail was something I read about in books, or watched in movies. The reality is very different. No matter your place in society, the treatment is disturbing from the moment you are arrested to the time inside the jail, the lack of compassion, the complete cruelty I experienced by the police and the people who worked in the prison. However, the other inmates were pretty darn cool with me. It was obvious to them I didn’t belong there. They comforted me, they gave me a lot of reasons to write it down, but I never did. I have never written about it before because it shows my daughter in a way that is not flattering, something that I have not wanted to do. I need to heal myself, recent events have made me realize I have not done that. Even with therapy, my move to Colombia, these moments in time exist and they bring me to places I only think about when I awake at night and cannot sleep.

I was arrested on false charges. I was an innocent to what the rules are when the police show up at your door. I had no clue about anything about police visits to your home. If I had known, this experience would never have happened. It was a nightmare that you dream and then wake up with your heart beating fast inside your chest. Surreal, incomprehensible, I am sure my mug shot exists somewhere even though all charges were expunged. I didn’t even understand that they were taking my mug shot. I was sobbing uncontrollably. I didn’t understand all that was happening and it was very harsh, with a lot of merciless treatment by all involved who work in the system of Broward County, Florida.

Now I am writing it down in a chapter for my book. I am leaving nothing out. The dreadful side of my daughter, the crappy friends she had, one who has my sweet grandchild in her care right now without any legal papers of custody. I am telling the story. All of it, the lessons I learned from experiences I had no control over. Including my daughter meeting the father of my beloved grandchild. I am going to tell you the entire experience from the time of my arrest until I was let out to the street outside the jail of Broward County without a charged cell phone, no shoes, and no money.

A wonderful cab driver gave me a ride with my promise of payment if he could just take me to my house. I didn’t even have a key to get inside my own home! I will always remember the kind treatment I received from the other inmates, from that cab driver, the father of my grandchild: who when he heard what Misha had done made her immediately go to drop the charges. This is hard just to say in a blog. I went to jail. I was 50 years old, I could have lost my job, that is what Misha did. Wait for it. Coming soon to all who want to buy my book. I am writing the chapter now. It is funny at times, but it is also very terrifying to anyone who might think it could never happen to you. It can and I experienced it.

 

 

Posted in Awakening, child death, Colombia, Devastating sadness, Disappointment, Entreprenuer, expat life, freedom, friendship, Grief, happiness, love, Uncategorized

Sadness

Sad.  The word used to describe me recently was correct. To be honest that’s how I live inside my mind often, but I usually never give in to it. Even when I awake in the morning feeling deep heaviness of heart. I get up and get going, my mornings include watching my birds and hummingbirds: photographing and viewing them here at Villa Migelita Ecolodge. It is not always about Misha,  although she is certainly part of this sadness. This feeling is something different. It has been pushed back, hidden deep inside my being. Like a child who has been abused and has no recall until years later. As I’ve written before I get through this life after her death because I try not to think about what has happened in my life since she changed at the age of fifteen. I’ve questioned whether it is healthy to just not think about it. I certainly have found out others pick up on this side of me of which I am not aware is being projected. I let myself feel grief when I didn’t see Amaya recently and I found out the true character of someone. I was hit twice in the gut. After a few weeks of searching for why, I realized what really hit me so hard. First of all it has been almost nine years since my daughter was murdered. Why is there this constant need by those who are part of Amaya’s life to continue to persecute me about what Misha decided to do with her life? She had free will. I was her parent who did not believe the choices she was making were correct. That is being a parent! Now these same people are hurting a child. I’m used to feelings of despair, I can handle it because despite all the negativity towards me I’ve gone on to create a lovely hotel and lifestyle. Amaya is a child, she should have nothing but love around her. All love is good love, from anyone who is part of her life. Amaya is not a reason to hurt others through revenge. Again, because all of the decisions Misha made in her short life were hers, albeit she was surrounded by really bad influences in high school.  I just tried to parent her as best as I could parent a rebellious child who was doing really bad things. Look for it all in my book, and believe me I will be sharing every single detail. It is a movie in the making.

So back to this new self discovery. I discovered I am mourning happiness. Moving to Colombia was a good move for me to get away from those who continued to harass me despite what they knew about Misha. I was their person to bully. I am no longer going to allow it. I am going to tell the truth to the world, and I know there are many families who have a Misha in their lives. Hopefully, you can let yourself let go of what you had no control over. When I let myself  feel sadness after I was not allowed to see Amaya  recently I let myself cry. I don’t cry much since Misha passed. Not because I’m embarrassed or trying not to. I just don’t cry.  I can watch a really sad show and not cry, I can see awful news about children being taken from their parents over immigration, I even lost my dog Bruno Mars while I was on my homeless tour of the United States and I didn’t cry. I realize this is not normal, but this is how I cope. I have become immune to a lot of bad things. I do react when confronted with wrong, but I never confront anyone, it is really hard for me to do.

So when I cried recently about being kept from Amaya it wasn’t this hysterical crying, it was  a day of sad tears and a day of talking out loud. Just needing to speak about the positive and negative things. I talked to those closest to me during that time, and I was also very silent and reflective. I then get myself back to the place I keep my sadness inside my mind. That place of not thinking about how horrible the human race is. This is why I love my place in Colombia, I am surrounded by animals and nature. They don’t do bad things on purpose. To hurt someone without reason.

Since I’ve returned to Colombia I’m back to moving forward. I’m doing my normal routine and feeling content. The thing that is missing is that happiness I felt after so many years. My book editor wrote me I’m mourning the loss of affection, because I’ve become my own best friend after so many years. Such wise words. I haven’t felt much happiness for a long time. I have felt contentment, I have felt love from my extended family here in Colombia, I am loved by my animals. But happiness is elusive. My other mother called me last night and she said “Michele, you have never allowed yourself to grieve properly, you keep looking for that happiness, it might never be there for you again.” She is right. I might never have it again, but I will have peace and beauty. I will have the love of the people I know are by my side. That is a wonderful thing. I can live with that. So my homeless tour was filled with lessons, and my other mother Laverne  said to me what I needed to hear. “Michele let yourself grieve, you never have. You have always been defending yourself against things you had no control over. You left and that was good, but now you need to let yourself feel that grief.”

She is right. I am writing it down in my book. It is hard. I have been remembering and discovering memories that cause me a lot of pain. I will get through this phase in my life, just like I get through everything, with grace and with patience.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Awakening, chaos, child death, Colombia, Colombian life, Devastating sadness, Disappointment, Entreprenuer, expat life, family, freedom, friendship, Grief, love, Uncategorized

The Cracks that Show Up

I let someone in my life because he was friends with my friend from high school. I would never have done this without knowing her and what a sweet person she is. Then I started to see cracks. Just little warning signs. However, I allowed myself to look past some of the signs because I think he had a really great side, and still do think that. We all have problems, I am the first to say that. I have many problems I left behind in the United States. I am the last person to judge anyone. But, I have the sixth sense. I didn’t really want to go to the United States this last time I went. I could have taken care of what was happening with my granddaughter with my lawyer Howard Friedman over the phone. This person insisted and I really should have listened to my inner voice, but I didn’t. I say this over and over in my blogs. I don’t listen like I should to my innermost feelings. We need to accept and adapt to these feelings inside of us! So I spent a lot of money that I did not need to spend and learned a lot of lessons while getting dumped by a person who is probably still thinking about me and wanting me. He blew it, and believe me, one chance is all you get with me. I am special, I am smart, I am unique and he lied just to get me. I am sure no one has just looked at him and said F%^k You. I did immediately when he dumped me for no reason except his selfish behavior and his need for me to be happy while in the United States. My friend’s husband who is very clear he is a Trump supporter came to me and hugged me, and said you will prevail. I was constantly told by ‘this person’ how awful this friend was and what a horrible husband he was to my friend. I should have let that be a warning sign too. My friends husband came and hugged me on one of the worst days of my life, but this person did not. So let me be clear I don’t like Donald Trump, and I am not saying all people who voted or supported him are bad, I am saying I can never nor would be with someone who is a supporter as a partner. As a citizen of the United States I believe in our right to vote for who we want, and I believe that is why we are such a great country. I don’t need to make everyone agree with my position. I will not allow someone lie to me. You know, if this person had been honest with me, I would have listened. It was a simple thing. We could have been friends, but never lovers.

First of all, I do not like Donald Trump. These images of the children being ripped from their parents arms are causing me such sadness, I am in distress beyond anyone’s imagination. He dumped me for being sad about my granddaughter, he is cruel and he is a supporter of Trump. I know that his friend he speaks so badly about knows I am not. Yet that morning I was so sad, he came to me and said I love you Michele, I am so sorry. Yes, the Trump supporter came to me to comfort me but not my boyfriend. So I have been feeling very ashamed for this romance. I bought into it. I believed him for what I thought he was. He was not that way. I can never express the coldness of how he said  I can’t be with a person who comes here to the USA and is sad. So here is the lesson. No matter your political preference, you can still be a decent human being. My high school friend and her husband are really decent people, and ‘this person is not.’

So where do I go now? I am extremely saddened beyond recognition of my own self by this ripping of children from the arms of their parents. I can’t sleep, I compare my situation with that of my own granddaughter. Why do people have her that have no rights, nor position to justify having her? It makes me scared about what I am thinking when I see these girls are missing in the Trump system of justice at the border. Is it something sinister? Is my granddaughter safe? I see that something is terribly wrong in the system of the United States. I know many feel Colombia is dangerous, when in actuality it is not. I am happy and free here. I have no need to even lock my doors. But the USA they rip children from the arms of parents and lose them. I can’t get a correct answer from all the agencies I call about my granddaughter’s well-being. Why do these people who have no connection to my granddaughter have her in their custody. I am hoping someone will find out.

Posted in Alternative Lifestyle, Awakening, child death, Colombia, Devastating sadness, Disappointment, Entreprenuer, expat life, family, freedom, friendship, Grief, happiness, Order, parents of deceased children, Perfection and Peace, Uncategorized

Without a Roof

What a week, a week of self discovery and a week of acknowledgement about the reality of my life. I’m on a journey that I didn’t expect to take. As I look in the mirrors of the various places I have stayed I’ve found a resilience that is ingrained inside the makeup of the person I am.  I myself didn’t even know how strong I am until this week of wandering from place to place, like a homeless person. I’ve rediscovered that grief I felt when Misha passed. I am right here where my granddaughter is, and I haven’t seen her. I’m her link to her deceased mother, and she is my link to my deceased daughter. We need each other.

One of my dearest friends had some people over when I stayed at her house while on this “homeless tour of friend’s houses ” and she point-blank asked me “how do you survive all of these things that are so gut wrenching awful?” She made me think about my innate character. What does get me through such pain, while others would curl up and leave life by escaping through drugs, alcohol or depressive  behavior? As I’ve moved from place to place I’ve been finding answers.

I’m really loved by a lot of people. Funny thing is they are people I’ve collected along the way on this voyage of life. The list of true friends seemed to grow smaller as I’ve grown older: while in actual fact it has grown larger. I just didn’t know because my focus was on my survival. I refuse to let the actions of other people change me. I know the difference between right and wrong, I know that it sometimes takes a lot of patience to achieve a goal, whatever that goal may be. Such as my own hotel, it is still growing and I might never see it succeed completely but I won’t give up.  I know it is wrong to give a child away, no matter your life circumstances, and I might not have seen my granddaughter Amaya this time, but when I do I will explain to her this is not normal behavior.

I’ve found out I don’t like being a vagabond, I’m a person who likes order even when traveling. I’ve been dragging my suitcases  into many homes this trip. I didn’t expect this, and because I needed to hire an attorney in this emergency situation I had to ask people for help. They all stepped up and I have reconnected with people I was long overdue to see, including my son. As I met up with everyone I was discovering they all have advice for me, and I have listened. I’ve laughed more than I have in a long time, and I’ve talked and have been given validation for my concerns. I’ve snuggled with my mother’s former caregiver who embraced me like she always did when she was at my house all the time. She made me smile with stories of CJ and Misha. Her son made the best fried chicken I’ve ever had and she pressed my shirt before I left because she didn’t want me to have on a wrinkled shirt. Little acts of love, and kindness that have brought joy back to my shattered heart.

My friend who asked me the question about how I get through life, made me giggle with memories too. Reminiscing about those memories of my children’s childhood was so wonderful. I realized and told her the same, I suppress my grief by not thinking about these bad things I can’t change. I also try not to think much about how I have a murdered daughter, and now a granddaughter who is being alienated against me. I have patience and I feel my lawyer Howard Friedman will prevail. It’s that simple and it works for me. I’m not sure if it’s healthy, but I’ve accomplished a lot even in all the adversity. So I guess my advice to others is, do what helps you. Because if you are not healthy, you will not be able to help anyone else.

My former nanny’s and my daughter’s best friend Destiny hold such special significance to me. Maybe it is my destiny that they are my children, along with my Jazmine who lives with me in Colombia. I’m certainly treated as if I’m their mother along with being given advice and a bit of typical behavior as I’ve watched them grow into lovely and loving young women. They delight my soul with the way they have chosen different life paths. They also give me something I really need, they let me feel like a mother to daughter’s. I was never able to complete my time with Misha, but I have them. I love them and love is truly what life is about. Especially, Gaby, and her little precious son. The last stop before I go back to my simple, minimalist life in Colombia. She has little chickens she hatched for her son. IMG_4721

If any of these wonderful young women are most like me, it would be Gaby. She has house chickens and she is as unique and free-spirited as I am. Look at her in her  boots! She never stops cleaning the house, just like I did for so many years. When I told her that I no longer need to do this in Colombia, she said good for you. You have found a life that is working for you. IMG_4722

She is right, I have found a life that works for me. Anyone who tries to demean or speak negative about my life and what I’ve accomplished are not worthy of an answer. I’m unique, I’m a survivor, and I will continue to share my thoughts because there are many of you who follow my blog that need to see you can get up and keep going even when life deals you blow after blow. I still have that smile on my face no matter what. The journey continues and at some point in time mine will be peaceful, without drama brought from others. Until that time, I am going to take in lessons that others teach me and use them to better myself.

Posted in child death, Devastating sadness, Disappointment, expat life, freedom, Grief, parents of deceased children, sadness, Uncategorized

Disappointment

Devastation is part of my life. Like a dark cloud that follows me with too many downpours. The thunderous clouds roll in, then the lightening strikes with such intensity I fall to the ground inside my brain. I cannot function. My already shattered heart breaks into smaller pieces. I silently look at the sky, the sun peaks out a bit and for a moment I feel hope. Then I remember I’ve lost another part of myself. I know the sun is behind those clouds and will appear again but it is not certain it will stay. I’ve learned to live my life with these painful moments.

Recently, I found love or so I thought. I came to the United States to see my boyfriend. I came to see him with the thought this will be fun going back and forth to Colombia because I could see my granddaughter more often. What I didn’t expect was the situation that occurred immediately with my granddaughter. I was denied visitation and my right to see her. It was devastating. I’m taking care of the situation but to be in town and not have her to enjoy and participate in my activities made me very sad. Not stressed out, but  grief-stricken. I felt the same way I did when Misha was murdered. I had a day of  weeping sadness. Yet, no one was murdered I just might never see my granddaughter again.

One day. Think about that, one day of normal human emotion.

So here is the reason I was dumped. I’m never going to be able to come to the United States and be happy. Really? I’ve learned long ago to accept situations that are without reason. Mean people who don’t want me to find out things that are happening, things that are most likely illegal. I have a boyfriend in the United States and suddenly I will be there more. I’m denied my rights to see my granddaughter.

Imagine my surprise when he dumped me. The man who said I’m amazing for what I’ve accomplished through all of  this adversity. One day of  natural behavior and he can’t be with me. I’m never going to be happy when I visit the USA. It’s not about what I have or don’t have. It’s about being sad. That was it. He said I’m always going to live here, you will live there. Yes that is true. I was blindsided by what happened with my granddaughter. She is the only part left of my deceased daughter.

That is all it took, one day of sadness.

So, I am going back to my paradise and to my peaceful existence in Colombia. I’m done with him. I don’t give second chances at my age. I’m in good hands with a lawyer I highly recommend. Howard Friedman of Ft. Lauderdale. He is going to take care of this situation once and for all. I’m heartbroken not to have my Amaya, but I’m in good hands. And that guy, he is history.