FINDING GRACE & GRATITUDE

Gratitude. Now there’s a word that gets thrown around a lot. There’s even some sort of research proving its value I think. I never could stick with the program, writing down three things in a book every day. But sitting here on this Sunday morning before Thanksgiving with our doors and windows open (as they have been since we moved in), blue sky, light slightly chilly breeze with only the sound of an occasional car or rooster in the distance, I realize how truly grateful I am.

Two years ago on this date we were packing our suitcases. Our house in Hillsborough was virtually empty and the crates containing items we wanted to hang on to were headed to Laredo, Texas, before crossing the Mexican border. We were excited, nervous, happy, scared, uncertain. Maybe we’d only stay for a year. How would it feel to leave loved ones behind? On November 27th we took flight from RDU to Guadalajara, arriving in a taxi at our little Casa Morada (purple house) as we stepped into a whole new world.

We celebrated our first Christmas with new found friends, anxious to venture into a new year of promise and excitement. Since then we have traveled to several of the many places we want to see: Guadalajara, Tlaquepaque, Tequila, Tapalpa, Mazamitla, La Cruz, Sayulita, Oaxaca City, Teotitlán del Valle, Tlacalula, Monte Alban, Zitácuaro, Pátzcuaro, and the artisan villages around its beautiful lake. We have visited gracious artisans in their humble homes and attended the annual Feria Maestros del Arte in Chapala. Our experiences have been unbelievable, leaving us hungry for more.

We have attended festivities in the streets of Ajijic, including Día de Los Muertos (Day of the Dead), Mexican Independence Day, and anything else that deserves a party. We have met new people, begun new friendships, gotten to know our neighbors and learned our way around. I’ve attended Spanish classes regularly while Ben joined the hiking group and a couple of art classes. We’ve obtained our permanent Mexican visas. After two months of hauling groceries up our steep road, we bought a car, took a class, and obtained our Mexican Drivers Licenses in Guadalajara. And so we stretch ourselves beyond our expectations.

We managed to return home to North Carolina twice last year, smitten by our new granddaughter born in January. Moving was an option only because we could travel back to see her and friends could travel to see us. And some have. We hope more will come in the future. Our little casita awaits.

In October 2019 construction began on a house adjoining our bedroom wall. I was nowhere near grateful for that experience. Except that by the end of February 2020, after months of listening to pounding all day, every day, we had purchased a beautiful, well-built house in a small gated community of friendly people. We had plans to visit my son, his wife, and my one-year-old granddaughter in April. We were settling in. Then it hit. Two weeks after our move. COVID lockdown. Now what…

I had only recently steeped myself in information about the severity of what some call “climate collapse”. Just as I shook it off enough to move forward, along came the pandemic. Like so many others, I crashed into depression, barely able to manage some days. But we did. We found ways to order food delivery, stay in touch with friends, get out and about safely, entertain ourselves with reading, music, and online learning. Masks have become a fashion statement as science learns more and many of us shift into some sense of acceptance of our limitations. We all know this could take a while. Life has to go on, though it may never look the same.

So here I sit, keys clicking, my mind moving quickly from one scenario to the next. Shifting from the strain of limitations to the joy of gratitude and grace. There are so many here and around the world who have so little. And perhaps there is much yet to descend upon us as the world’s economies lose ground. As the transition of power in los Estados Unidos (the United States) brings such discouragement and uncertainty. Yet each day is a lesson, an opportunity to help others, to better ourselves and our world, to appreciate what we have.

Today I find myself grateful for my partner, Ben, and our sweet pup Tumi; for FaceTime with my granddaughter Hazel, my son Japhy and his wife Toni; for friends who stay in touch, both here and back in the States; for the colors, the artists, and the art of México (and the world!); for the patience and kindness of the Mexicanos; for good food and water and the opportunity to share it with others; for birds singing all around me, for the field of corn behind our house, and the lake and mountains in front. And so much more. I give thanks for it all, and for all of you who follow the stories of my adventures, both mental and physical, in my home of dos años (two years) – México! Ten cuidado! Be safe!