Love, faith and miracles

January 16th, 2006

I was in Lake Elsinore, CA, over the weekend visiting my parents and my Aunt Carmen.

Actually, my aunt’s name isn’t really Carmen. Over chips and salsa, it was revealed that Carmen is the name she used when she went out to clubs and restaurants with her girlfriends. After her friend gave up that juicy tidbit, I couldn’t stop wondering how many men in the greater Long Beach area only know her by her alter ego! As sweet and demure as my Aunt is, its funny to think she might have a wild side — and her name is Tia Carmen!

In the last few months, my Aunt was diagnosed with stage four stomach cancer. She has seen three specialists now; they all agree she has six months to live, maybe seven if she seeks chemotherapy treatments.

When I heard the news, I flashed back to last summer when my best buds, Jean Luc, and his wife, Maria, were caring for Maria’s sick mother, May. Though her wit and humor were still intact, May’s body was frail and exhausted. The last time I saw her, even talking and moving her hands were enormously difficult.

So with that in mind, I asked my Mom to arrange a visit with my Aunt while she still had the strength to see us.

Right before lunch on Saturday, I handed her an envelope. She and I sat in the backseat of my parents’ minivan, my Mom turned around from the front passenger seat to face us, my Dad leaned in through the open passenger door. As my Aunt raised the card, and the delicate gold chain attached to it, I explained the story behind my gift.

It was a small gold crucifix given to me years ago by my soon to be ex-husband, Endicott. His sister had it blessed at the front of the stream in Lourdes, France, during her pilgrimage to several religious sites. At the time, I couldn’t appreciate it as anything other than a piece of jewelry…that kinda creeped me out!

Unlike Endicott, and most people I know, I’m not religious. Actually, I’m really uncomfortable with displays of faith, verbal or symbolic. So keeping the crucifix that was blessed at the site where the Virgin Mary appeared over a hundred years ago, was difficult. That’s a lot of religious attachment for secular girl like me to handle! I considered giving it away to Goodwill, then pretending to “lose” it. Because it meant so much to Endicott, as a show of his faith in God and his love for me, I decided to keep it. I placed it in a jewelry box, and forgot about it until a couple of days ago.

As Aunt Carmen put on her crucifix, I thought, if there was ever a reason for me to have that thing, it was probably to give it to her. She could appreciate it as more than jewelry. For her, it can be a source of strength to draw from during this painful period in her life. And a small reminder of the power of love, faith, and miracles.

Love,
Flo