Going to the chapel (Laguna Verde) and we're gonna...

I'm not really a girly girl, I have never dreamt about a big white wedding, probably because I never thought I would meet anyone I would want to share the rest of my life with.  I thought I would be a singleton forever.  Mauricio Escobar Fernández changed my life forever.  I never looked at him as boyfriend material in the beginning.  I was not attracted to him at all.  We were just friends.  But like most Chilean men, he liked the chase and spent almost a year wooing me with poetry and beautiful stories.  God that sounds so cheesy and the sort of scenario I would have stuck two fingers down my throat hearing about before.

It did take a good year for me to come round to Mauricio.  He was not my type physically at all, but his inner beauty permeated his outer shell and I slowly began to fall in love.  I am now deeply in love with my love and I can't imagine a single day without him.  He is the complete opposite of me.  I am very relaxed and walk around with my head in the clouds, he is serious and very focused.  Maybe that is why we fuse so well together.  Although he thinks he is macho and likes to portray that to other people, he has a very soft centre and is extremely loving and affectionate.  

We have talked about marriage for some time, but we do not have the funds to have a big party or go on an expensive honeymoon.  Mauricio has never seen the logic in spending so much money on one day when we have so many other things to save up for.  Then it occured to me.  Why not use our beautiful place in Laguna Verde to have a ceremony?  Our closest family on Mauricio's side and my Mum will be there and we will make the place look beautiful.  I am thinking flowers and bunting and our dogs will wear ties and bows.  Seriously!  O.K. it is not the big white wedding which most girls dream of, however it will be in our special place by the house that we conceived together with all our love.  I hope the hummingbirds grace us with their presence.  Now that would be perfection.

♥22nd December 2012...12.30pm...Hummingbird House, Laguna Verde...two hearts will become one♥

Life and Death

These past few months have made me think a lot about life and death.  For me these two words are the ultimate dichotomy.  I am trying to embrace one, but I fear the other.  My cultural make up has shielded me from considering it.  Why are we not more open about death?  Why is it such a taboo subject? In the past I have tried to avoid thinking about it, but these recent months have planted its presence in my mind.  

Before, death was black and dark and cold.  My heart skipped beats pondering it.  Facing the reality of it through the death of a loved one has calmed my fears.  Now it is white and light and warm.  In the moment flickering from life to death you can hear the hum of the hummingbird and the changing colours of its breast.  You can hold onto its wing as it takes you from this life to the next.

Life really is precious.  Death makes you realize that.  I look at my life and feel very grateful for what I have and the family that I have been blessed with.  We are here for such a short space of time on earth so I believe you should make the most of it.  Spend more time trying to make yourself and other people happy.  Try and avoid criticising or emotionally hurting people.  Love others.  Always love others.  Hold onto your beliefs.  Through death we may be physically separated from our loved ones, but spiritully never.  Open your ears and mind to the hummingbirds!

My grieving journey...

These past few months have been difficult for me, being so far away while Frank was in hospital and not being able to be with Mum when he passed away.  I know the grieving process is not the same for everyone, but I wanted to share some of my feelings during this difficult time in the hope it may help someone else.  Communication for me has been the key to getting through this and sharing experiences with people who have been through the same thing has been the best way of trying to cope with all the emotional pain.

When we first learned of Frank's prostrate cancer, I think I was in denial for a long time.  I had read information on the internet about this type of cancer, and the prognosis was good.  Being here in Chile meant that some days I could escape from the reality.  It wasn't until Frank was hospitalised and put into ICU that the stage of my grief changed.  Unfortunately Frank developed an infection and in this time the cancer became aggressive.  It suddenly hit me that this was very real and it did not look good.

During his few months of hopsitalisation I was in bits.  Frank did not deserve this.  I was crying most days, not just for Frank, but also for my Mum.  To think of my Mum watching her soul mate deteriorate was the worst feeling ever.  So I was not just grieving for Frank, but also grieving for Mum's situation.  Luckily I had Mauricio who was a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen to me, and he answered all my questions.  Mauricio's Father and Brother in Law also passed from cancer.  He responded to all my questions, no matter how personal they were and he dried all my tears.  Although this helped me immensely by getting all my feelings out, Mauricio told me that I had to go through this grieving process and nothing would stop that.  I was not sure I was strong enough to face this roller coaster of emotions.  But I was not alone.  I had periods of feeling anger, why was this happening? I was not ready for Frank to go yet.  I also felt periods of guilt for not being there with my family to support them at this time.  

When it was decided that Frank was moved to hospice, I felt a sense of relief.  At this stage I also felt deeply sad because I knew Frank was very poorly and his time was now limited.  The care in hospice is known to be amazing and the Macmillan nurses were a Godsend.  While I looked at their website and saw where Frank would be staying, I just said to myself: "God, those people are angels."  To be able to care for another human being in their final days, making their passing to the next life as dignified as possible is awe inspiring.  What a precious thing to do for someone.  Frank was finally transferred home.  He was weak and was asleep a lot of the time.  I phoned Mum as much as I could to let her know I was there and praying for her and Frank.  

One day, when we were told he had very little time left, Mum asked me to call.  When she answered Skype I knew she was in her bedroom.  I felt so scared.  I had not seen Frank since he was hospitalised.  Mum moved the camera to Frank.  It was such a shock.  He was sleeping and looked so so peaceful but very different to the Frank I knew.  Mum said that I could talk to Frank, and so I started to tell him all the things I wanted to say to him.  I found it so hard to get all the words out, crying with every breath, but he was responding to my voice.  He heard me.  I am glad I had the opportunity to speak to him one last time.  I was battling with myself as to whether I should see him or not, whether to keep the memory of Frank in my head that I had, before he physically changed so much.  I am glad Mum gave me the opportunity.  I thank God for technology that brought me closer to home.

Frank passed away at 8.30pm on Friday 27th July.  It was very peaceful, surrounded by my Mum, two of my sisters and my nieces.  It was so sad for us as a family when he died, but also a relief that he was no longer suffering.  My heart had felt heavy for such a long time, and I thought I could cry no more tears.  Frank was a beautiful person to have had in my life.  I hold onto my spiritual belief that I know he is still with us.  Although he is physically not here, his being is imprinted in my memory, his soul lives on.  My good friend Lindsay sent me this quote after Frank passed.  You all know by now my love for the hummingbird.  So I will leave you with this quote, and wish you all love, peace and happiness in the world.  

'Legends say that the hummingbirds float free of time, carrying our hopes for love,joy and celebration. the hummingbird's delicate grace reminds us that life is rich, beauty is everywhere , every personal connection has meaning and that laughter is life's sweetest creation.'

Dear Frank...

Dear Frank,

I have cried so many tears for you, it breaks my heart to think of you going through this.  Today was very bittersweet for me.  It was both painful and a relief to see you today.  I confronted my worst fear, seeing you via Skype after so much time.  You have changed so much, but you looked so peaceful.  I got the chance to tell you I loved you.  That we have happy memories together.  That the house Mauricio and I are building here is for you.  That the hummingbirds visit us.  That they are messengers for those who are no longer with us.  That when they come here, I will know you are also here with us.  My heart hurts knowing that you have little time left with us here in this plain.  We will always love you and keep you in our hearts.  Thank you for loving and caring for my mum.  Thank you for being a part of my life.  

Love. Always. from Kate x

Our first sessions with the children of Maria Teresa School

So Mauricio asked for the worst behaved children in the school for our group project.  We want to take the children to places of cultural interest where they might not normally be able to visit due to their socio-ecomic status.  Can you imagine not being able to go to the museum, art gallery or theatre because you can not afford it?  That really is unfair.  We don't choose what class we are born into and in my humble opinion, everyone should have access to these simple things.  These children come from very poor homes and often immigrant families where they all live in just one room.  They are often exposed to violence and abuse.

With this in mind, Mauricio and I have decided to make this our project, to expose the children to the cultural greats and give them different environments to learn in.  So our first classes are about preparing the children to behave inside the classroom so that they can behave in society.  The first week we had almost an entire session of hitting and name calling (not Mauricio and I), but fifteen children!  I looked at Mauricio with 'what have we let ourselves in for' eyes.  He whispered to me that the children have to learn to quieten themselves, that they have to learn to listen.  Ah, the words of the psycholgist!  For fifty minutes it was  pure chaos.  But all of a sudden, the shouting and screaming stopped when they realised what was required of them.  They began to listen to one another and also to what we had to say.  Result.

The second class was a lot more productive, and we only got a few minutes of hitting each other and I think I only heard one child call another tit face.  I mean I don't know how I kept a straight face on that one, but this time they were a lot better at listening and we are already planning our first visit to an interactive museum.  It is so rewarding to be able to spend time with these children.  I don't think they are bad children at all.  Some of them have just had a bad start in life, and they all deserve a chance.   So we will show them understanding and love in hope that they will grow and gain from this experience we are offering them.

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My mum's partner Frank is hospitalised with a rare form of cancer.  It has been such a rollercoaster ride for her the past few months.  Can you imagine the love of your life in a hospital bed, bad days where he gets confused and doesn't eat, and better days where he has the strength to sit up, smile and chat.  Heartbreaking.  And I am not the one living this experience.  My mum is.  She is breaking inside.  Trying to be strong around her family.  But sometimes it gets the better of her and she cries uncontrollably.  And that is O.K.  I am glad she feels comfortable to be able to show her emotions to me.  But we are separated by thousands of miles, mountains and the ocean.  It is hard.  I want to hold her.  I feel guilty for not being able to.  We have skype.  This makes it slightly easier.  And I will always be there for her.  If she wants someone to be with her while she cries, falls asleep, talks.  Empathy.  That is what I try to have for her.  I try to put myself in her shoes.  I have cried it all out.  I thought I could cry no more.  Then I cry again.  I imagine it to be a million times worse for her living this daily experience.  This is the story for many people.  Mum you are not alone in this.  I am here for you.  Many people are here for you.  You are loved.  Frank is loved.  That is what is important.  That is what matters.  I am not with you physically, but spiritually always.  I will be holding your hand every step of the way.

My other wonderful nan

Since I posted on my mother's mum, I think it only fair to share a story of my father's mum, who is also an amazingly beautiful woman, 89 years young.  I think their longevity bodes well for the female members of the family.  We sometimes forget what women of their generation went through with the war, and without any benefits to help them out economically, how difficult it was to raise a family.

My nan had a tough childhood.  By thirteen she had lost both her parents, her father, who broke his back, and her mother who died of cancer.  Her very old grandmother decided to take in the four orphans, in spite of the fact that many people told her not to.  Her grandmother ensured the siblings were not separated, because in those days, no one was interested in taking girls in.  Many people offered to adopt and help out, but only where the two boys were concerned.  They all lived (the five of them) in a one bedroom cottage in Top End, Pytchley.

My nan has many wonderful tales which she relates to us when we go and visit.  Like the time that she placed a wind up toy in her sister's hair, that wound round and round until it became tangled to the root and had to be cut free with scissors.  Or the fact that she could only play just outside the window where her grandmother could see her.  A few years later the war would change their lives forever, it disrupted their innocence and forced them to grow up quicker than they should have.

Three of the siblings helped with the war effort.  My great uncle fought in the army, my nan and her sister joined the Women's Royal Air Force on the barrage baloons.  My nan worked in London and Southampton, raising the baloons in an attempt to protect our country from enemy planes.  In a twist of fate, one day some tanks drove past where my nan was working.  It was my great uncle's regiment, and she saw him for the first time in a while, waving at her before he went to war.  That summer my great uncle's tank was blown up in Caen, France.  He died so young, aged 22.  Such a bittersweet memory, to have been able to see her brother's face for the last time.

Shortly thereafter my nan's grandmother passed away.  It was the end of an era, and still a young lady herself at 20 years old, she had lost her parents, her brother and her dear grandmother.  I think this tough life drew her even closer to her remaining brother and sister.  Unfortunately I am sure it is a similar story to many of their generation.  I can't even begin to imagine what it would be like to live life as her during her early years, but  it certainly has made her the beautiful lady she is today.  She is a kind and very strong woman.  Both my nan's have taught me to be proud of my roots and have shaped the person  I am. With strong morals, loving, family oriented, and selfless, they are everything I aspire to be.