Posted in Alternative Lifestyle, Awakening, child death, Colombia, Entreprenuer, expat life, family, love, Signs of the Universe, Spiritual Presence, strength, Uncategorized, Waiting

The Surprises in Life

This blog is a follow-up to my blog about finding love when I least expected it, I was astonished by all the outpouring of support that was sent my way when I wrote about  the surprise of meeting someone special. So take a moment and read this blog first before you continue on.

Life is like a river, it flows one way and then it sometimes changes directions. I compare my life to a river often. I believe I have lived two lives in this lifetime. One was as a mother to my children, and the next life started when I decided to move to Colombia after Misha was murdered. It was not an easy decision and I carry a lot of guilt for leaving, but I have found that you cannot control destiny. Everyone has free will, even our children.  I have not stopped thinking about my past life, I really wouldn’t want those memories to be gone. Cherished memories. So I accept I have had two separate lives. Both have had wonderful times, and terrible times. We do have many chances in life, even if those chances cause pain to us in other ways. My choice to move has been wonderful for healing, but whenever I go to the United States the past rears its head. Always so dramatically. I left that, I don’t want the drama, I don’t want the pressure of trying to be the best at whatever it is anyone is trying to be the best at, I don’t want that life anymore. So I need to write about how strange I felt this last time I visited the United States after two years.

The night I met Avi was special because of things I have found out since this fateful encounter. First of all, and I mention it in the blog you need to read first, I asked him to dance. I say this because apparently it is still not a common occurrence for a woman to ask a man to dance. I have been told this by Avi and by my friends also. This shows you I live differently in the jungle of Colombia. We dance here when we have parties at our homes. I ask anyone to dance and this includes my women friends. We just dance. It is that simple. So, what do I mean by this? Avi found it delightful that I approached him and said do you want to dance? I was so amazed by that, which will show that I have become more innocent since living in Colombia. I don’t think nor know about any of the things that could be socially inept. I just live. I have deliberately isolated myself, and with that comes social incompetence. But I do have a lovely and simple existence. I am successful to a degree with my hotel Villa Migelita Ecolodge, and I am very happy to be alone with just me. I might be writing my book, or I might be photographing the nature I am so accustomed to, or I might be studying the Spanish I am still struggling with. I think many people would not like my uncomplicated life, but for me it is perfect. I like being alone. I like my own company, and I love nature and my animals. A perfect combination for me.

Let me say a bit about Avi , he is a person of great integrity. He knows what he wants in a woman and has been looking for someone for a while. I can’t say the same about me. I am flawed, and imperfect to a great degree. I have not been looking for anyone. I changed when my daughter was murdered. I just don’t care what anyone thinks, says or wants from me. I am truly and completely direct with everyone. So this probably makes me a bit unusual. Avi says it is a great thing, I am not so sure. I will say this relationship has gotten better with distance and the wonderful world of being able to talk and see each other through social media. I am way too uninhibited in my thoughts, but to someone like Avi this is a good thing. He finds it refreshing, unusual and to use a word my mother always called me : unique. I am that for sure.

That night Avi and I met we danced and I found out the next day the earring I wore of Misha’s that I had in my second ear-piercing was gone. I was devastated. I had already lost one earring from when she had passed that I took from her body before she was cremated. This earring her best friend gave me without knowing I had been wearing another earring and had lost it. I remember her saying I only have one when she handed it to me. When I woke up and I realized the earring was gone and there would not be another earring to replace it, I was sad. Here is a video of my television interview in Baton Rouge when I was trying to get a trial for my deceased daughter. You can clearly see the earring that I lost the night I met Avi, Gabrielle had given it to me the night before my interview. That morning when I left the cruise ship I felt I left a part of Misha behind at sea.

Now as time has passed and Avi is coming to see me this week, I am beginning to think there was a reason for the loss of the earring. Maybe it is time for me to move on with my life. Maybe I have a future, because I haven’t really looked at my life as having one. I have just lived one day, one step, one moment at a time. The loss of this second earring; maybe it is a message to me from Misha to allow myself to love again, to let go of her, to begin fresh.

Avi has his work cut out with me. I am surely different which he discovered the first night we met. I am also an innocent in this world now. I didn’t turn hard from the lack of justice, I turned inward. I often feel that I can never trust anything again. This man killed my daughter, yet the judge gave him the correct sentence and then she suspended it. She even acknowledged the thousands of letters she received to give him jail time. She didn’t. I felt so betrayed. I withdrew into myself even more.

I had not had a real date with a man in a long time, so when I had lunch with Avi I was nervous and socially awkward. I then had dinner with him later that evening after I missed my flight back to Colombia and I felt like an alien from outer space. I looked around and every person had their phones out and no one was interacting with each other. I don’t do that here in Colombia. I use it for communication, and some of my social media work sites. I remember looking around at a lot of noise and lights, and feeling very uncomfortable. I can’t imagine that I even kept up a normal conversation with Avi. But now since I have returned  to Colombia we have such profound discussions, and I am slowly learning to trust him.

I have made it clear to Avi I am difficult to understand, I sometimes appear cold, unreachable. That I like being alone. I don’t need to have anyone entertain me, nor do I need to be out and in crowds. I am never unkind purposely, but I am distant sometimes. It is who I am now. He accepts this about me, in fact he loves this about me. My directness.

He will be here for Mother’s Day, a day I really find so distressing. He says we shall go out and celebrate you as a mother, you are a mother and deserve to be admired as one. I hope I can enjoy the day with him. He is certainly kind and thoughtful, and I believe he truly loves me, even with my baggage.

Stay tuned, the future is in front of me, but as usual I live my life one day at a time. Some days are not so great, while others are beautiful and full of hope.







In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Door.”

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An Intricate Door in Buga,Colombia
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A Door in Buga, Colombia

I am an expat living in Colombia, South America. I find that the doors here could tell many stories. I look at them and I wonder, where will this door lead me? I also wonder how old they are. Many of the cities here are very old. Buga is a city founded in 1555. I wrote a blog  about this wonderfully fascinating city with a history of a miracle. The doors are ensconced by mystery.

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A door that opens to the beauty that surrounds the history of Colombia
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An amazing door at the Sugarcane Museum in the Valle Del Cauca
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A door from the 19th century in the Sugarcane Museum of Valle del Cauca
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La Ruiza, the former hacienda of Pablo Escobar

There are many old Hacienda’s in Colombia. Some doors lead outside to magnificent beauty. Some doors show the life lived long ago, a life one can picture of the Colombian people who are rich with culture. Then there is the life of Colombians who contributed to history but not in a good way. La Ruiza was one of the many hacienda’s Pablo Escobar had in Colombia during the 1980’s. It is a fascinating journey into a time of decadence and drug wars. This hacienda remains untouched from so long ago, but the doors tell a story too. Sliding doors that show a style long ago abandoned. Not only the style but the way of life. Colombia is now a leading contender for expats and tourists. Please feel free to check out my website or my Facebook page to come visit and see the new Colombia. Rich in history and safe for tourists.

Where Does That Door Lead?

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

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

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

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

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

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