mOOners in Mexico

by Kris

How is it possible that a place that is paradise can so suddenly become the farthest place from your heart and soul? I found out the day I heard via our satellite internet of our eldest daughter's breast cancer. Looking out my backdoor, I saw the Mexican beach we'd called "home" for two enchanting weeks. The enchantment was replaced with anxiety and the helpless feeling of being too far from home and family.

I am not sure I was totally recovered from Ken's heart experience in January and this news of my child hurting and the family trying to deal with the hugeness of this without me, Mom, was almost unbearable. To protect my daughter's privacy, I will just say that she is one of these beautiful young women - my girls; my daughters, my daughters-in-law, my bonus girls...all healthy and fabulous friends, sisters, aunties, wives, and mamas...

If I couldn't be at home during the initial time of diagnosis, I was blessed to be in a beautiful place with Ken and friends who felt my pain and offered amazing amounts of love and support. I was safe to share my feelings and I freely did so. Paulita and I shed tears of so many different feelings; sadness that one of our girls was affected by this horrible disease, shock and anger that breast cancer is insidiously creeping into a younger generation, joy that we are blessed with fabulous daughters, and hope and trust for a complete healing. We walked the beach and talked, cried, and laughed. Not sure how I would have coped if not for very special people in my life at the beach, in Jocotepec and Roca Azul, and at home.

Our unity in support for all breast cancer patients and survivors like my girlie, was sealed with bright pink nail polish.

While we made plans for our homeward trip, we enjoyed our remaining beach days with Paulita y Geraldo. It pains me to report that Ken y Paulita appear to have our number in Blongo...but Geraldo and I will get 'em next year..The fellas could not have been sweeter and we know we're blessed to have them.

There's no better therapy for the mom and grandma in me than to snuggle up to a little person. Raquel has no idea what her touch meant to me.

Duffie got a "going home" haircut and looked so fancy that he was invited for a sleep-over with tia Paulita y tio Geraldo. Dogs and kids have the gift of making everything feel better.

I watched this woman walk back and forth on our beach for hours; she was physically on our beach but spiritually she was in another world. Not one other person approached the water during her journey; it would not have been right to interrupt the communion of this woman and her angels. I had the most overwhelming urge to talk with her and tell her about my daughter. I explained this to one of her companions and came to the realization that the four women were nuns and the lone walker was the Madre. What a blessing and comfort to have the Madre come to me, hold my hands in her hers, and tell me that my daughter would be in their prayers. I doubt that I could describe her face, kind and loving as it was, but her hands and her strong and reassuring touch are as real to me now as at the time of our encounter.

Our special local señora, Margarita, has a heart full of love as we witnessed when we first saw her. She is feeding two orphaned kids (goat babies) in addition to being the village storekeeper. All with a big smile.

We were saddened to hear that Margarita's eldest daughter was killed in a car accident just months ago. During our goodbyes we mentioned that we wanted to see the nearby iglesia de San Mateo and she arranged for her friend to open the church for us. San Mateo is a non-descript village with an iglesia that defies description. The architect(s) had incredible vision in creating this one of a kind Casa de Dios. We are grateful for the opportunity to have experienced this special place of worship.

Over the past two winters we've been in many churches; some that are grand and hundreds of years old and full of relics of spirituality. None have affected me like this modern open-air home of worship in a small and simple town. I've not knelt in a Catholic Church since I was a young girl but it felt natural here and at this time in my search for peace of mind and comfort of heart.

The Virgen Guadalupe is a central figure in the culture and spirituality of Mexico. We have our own Guadalupe, our amiga muy especial and our link to the country that is our second home. The friendship we have with Guadalupe and her sister, Concepción, means so much to us. We are forever friends. We share comida y tequila, and stories of life and family in our brand of "Spanglish" - Ken once told Guadalupe that she speaks excellent Spanish and she replied, "I practice everyday!"

It was such a boost for us to see Guadalupe's car at her home in Roca Azul as we drove out of the RV park where we'd said goodbyes to other friends. When Guadalupe ran out of the house we hugged and she wept when we told her why we were going home. Her spirit, encouragement, and comfort were with us all the way home.

Now a week after a happy reunion with our family and a successful lumpectomy, we wait for news of further treatment. I'm where I belong doing what I love - being a Mom and Grandma (and happier wife). I am writing this to share good news with friends in Mexico, Canada, and the US. And I'm writing to encourage other Moms and Grandmas to have your young women realize that breast cancer is no longer "your mom's disease"...and to examine themselves, get a mammogram, and get involved with community efforts like the "Susan B. Komen" foundation and The Avon foundation.

We will beat this disease.

mOOners