Vida. Risa. Amor.

I think God granted me my Christmas wish of "quiet" around mile 6 of my 12 mile jog this morning as the battery of my mp3 player died. So with no music, I needed any distraction so I decided to figure out what I'd write about in my next blog. The idea actually came to me last night on Christmas as we were all snuggled up watching a movie together. Chemo had Josie wrapped up in a cozy bear hug with their heads on my lap as we were reminiscing what our first Christmas with her was like 13 years ago...

It was our first trip to Mexico. I cannot verbally tell this story with out crying, and I'm sure I'll require tissues in writing it down. I think I was only 22 at the time, and Chemo and I had just gotten married the month before Christmas. Chemo's Mom was very sick and his sisters were urging him to come to his family's home in Mexico as fast as he could get there. Somehow our travel plans got mixed up and we had to stay in a hotel by the airport so we could travel the next morning...through middle of the night phone calls Chemo knew things were getting worse.

When we arrived in Mexico City we were picked up by Chemo's uncle and maybe 8 other family members that would all be traveling in the same vehicle for 5 hours to his home town in Ciudad Hidalgo. I was nursing Josie at the time so privacy was limited to the front seat between his uncle and Chemo. After the hussle of getting out of the airport I hadn't had a chance to use the bathroom so I was offered to find a bush maybe 20 feet off of the road. The sun was in our eyes for most of the 5 hour drive through through the hills and crowded towns and driving behind semi-trucks and buses made the air smell of diesel fuel. After about 3 hours of driving and a real bathroom stop, (though the toilets have no lids and you have to bring your own toilet paper), my newly introduced niece informed me of some devastating news. I understood enough spanish to learn that Chemo's Mom had passed away in the night and that they weren't going to tell Chemo until he got home and they wanted me to not say anything. I was faced with a sad reality that I was never going to meet my mother-in-law, and she wasn't going to be able to meet her grand-daughter named after her, and my husband, her 8th "baby" son, was going to be heart broken for not being able to say good-bye.

The moment we drove on the street of his mother's home, they stopped the car and told Chemo what had happenned. My heart broke for him in a thousand pieces as he tore out of the car calling out for his Mom trying to get in the house through the crowd of people that were gathered there. I almost started walking down the street since I didn't exactly know where to go, but a man who I recognized should be Chemo's brother greeted me and Josie with a hug and gestured for us to come inside.

It wasn't very often that a "gringa" came to town and I think I attracted a lot of curious attention. Introductions were eventually made and I was greeted by each and every one of my nieces and nephews and sisters and brother-in-laws with sweet kisses on my cheeks. Out of respect I never laid my eyes on my mother-in-law as I didn't want to remember her that way. I was thankful that I had been able to talk to her the day after we married. Though the days were filled with funeral preparations and catholic prayers and endless friends, family, and neighbors in the home, it was still Christmas and Chemo's sisters made a huge effort to make sure that wasn't overlooked. They loved our baby Josephina and there were never an empty set of arms to hold her.

13 years later, our baby girl halfway grown up, it was a sweet sight to see her wrapped up snugly in her Daddy's arms on the night of Christmas. When she sleeps, her long eyelashes still fall on her cheeks so beautifully.

...the best gifts for Christmas are when you're spending time with the ones you love.