Last week was the celebration of 215 years of Mexican Independence. It coincides with our anniversary and one year since my accident.
Mexico’s presidenta Claudia Scheinbaum
For the first time, a woman led the ringing of the bell of independence in the central square of Mexico City to the cheers of thousands of people. The color guard was made up of women. Claudia Sheinbaum, Mexico’s first woman president, gave a powerful speech which included men and women, both indigenous and historical, who built this country.
She also welcomed migrants. Her approval rating is close to 80% and she has become a respected world leader. Mexico isn’t perfect but no country is. I am proud to call it home.
It was thirty-one years ago that she walked around the bar and into my life. Our friends nodded and smiled and knew it would never last. She was rough around the edges, not long out of the military. She smoked and drank and I did neither. I was twelve years older with three children. We both were still living with our exes. Not exactly a match made in heaven.
Our first Christmas 1994
And yet here we are, happier than ever, living our dream together. I’m not saying it hasn’t been work. We’ve learned to accept each other as we are, not tolerance but appreciation. There’s also the art of listening without feeling criticized and taking personal responsibility.
First Valentines Day 1995Wedding photos 1999Legal 2014
We have supported each other through major health crises, spending nights together in the hospital, even in one case, sleeping on the floor.
Back Surgery
All in all, it’s been a ride. Thirty-one years is worth celebrating. We certainly didn’t have a crystal ball that night in the bar when we laughed and flirted. If you’d have asked me if love at first sight existed I’d probably have scoffed. But ask me today, and I’d say yes, but it also takes a lot of damn work.
Two weeks ago I exchanged text messages with my sister-in-law and somehow the conversation went off the rails. She was angry, and probably didn’t appreciate me pointing it out to her LOL. I tried calling, thinking a conversation could clear up the misunderstanding. She did not answer and told me to “back off!”
My brother and I talk every weekend. It is an important relationship to me and I thought to him as well. It is now two weeks that he hasn’t taken my calls. This from the person who told me that if there is a problem, “people just need to talk it out.”
My mom surrounded by cousins and my brother.
I remember as a kid, going with my grandmother to visit her sister. They hadn’t spoken in years, long after either one of them remembered why. When my great aunt answered the door, there was a moment of, “what do YOU want?“ before they fell into each other’s arms with tears and mutual apologies.
My dynamo grandmother.
I don’t know what happened with my SIL. And I REALLY don’t know why my brother has gone silent. I have been sad and confused. I am far from perfect and if I say something hurtful or stupid, let’s talk it out.
At the same time, I will not let anyone steal my peace. As of today, I am done with the tears. If I have to, I will get on a plane and knock on their door. I don’t know how our relationships got to be so fragile. Maybe by the time this gets posted everything will be worked out. Fingers crossed.
DOS TORTAS
Addendum…I spoke with my brother today. I won’t go into details, but it was apparently a big misunderstanding on my part. While I don’t buy it, I’m willing to drop the subject. Such weird times we live in.
When our air conditioner went out last week, we contacted Mario who had done all the original electrical work on our house. He had worked with a handful of laborers to bring our vision of a home in Mexico into existence.
My favorite spot. Doors lead to our bedroom.Hand woven Oaxacan rug hangs over our bed.
We hadn’t seen Mario in a while and he brought his wife to see our obra de arte, work of art. Watching his excitement at showing her around his work, gave me new eyes. Living in this house, I sometimes forget how beautiful it is.
Bathroom mural.More of the bathroom mural.Back gate with artist made angel ironwork.
I find that many houses in the US are beige, gray, black, white and brown with the occasional touch of color being a turquoise throw pillow. I find neutrality boring. Our house has blue floors! It was one of those risks that could have been a disaster but turned into a WOW. We forget how striking it is because, well, we live here.
Light fixtures.
Thank you Mario for reminding us what an obra de arte, work of art we live in.
the adventures of dos tortas 
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