Day of the Dead

Sadness travels too

There are certain things that stick with me from our last trip to Mexico. The most vibrant and sad image is the one I saw every evening. Three of Felipe's sisters curled together on a matress on the floor of their dad's room. Sleeping in their clothes from the day, jeans and bare feet sticking out from under the blanket. A jumble of arms and legs each overlapping the other. As one sister shifts and turns, the other two instinctively turn also, throwing a leg over one sister and an arm over the other though I hear their quiet snores even as they move. I tease Felipe that he is just like his sisters. He sleeps the same way, always tossing an arm or leg around me, needing contact. As soon as I hear his snores I wiggle loose, immediately he senses it and shifts to throw his appendage back. Even though we've slept like this for 8 years, now when I feel the pressure of his leg on mine I feel a sense of loneliness and sadness that I never felt before. I picture his sisters in Mexico on the floor and wonder if they are still sleeping that way.

I remember the mariachis and their somber processional. There is such ceremony in a Mexican funeral. People are dressed in jeans or everyday clothes, some in black shirts but not many. The walk from the church to the cemetary was about 12 blocks. There was something so deeply sad about the procession. The combination of the music and the intense labor of four men carying the casket on their shoulders. I can't hear the music any more in my head but when I close my eyes I feel the sweat trace down my face as I put my arm around Ely, the sister who is my age almost exactly. I know how alone she feels. She is the only one of the 10 siblings who is not married and does not have children. Her father was the most important person in her life. The sense of love and respect the people around me have for my father-in-law overwhelms me. There is something primitive and deeply respectful about carrying the casket by hand. The primitive side stirs something deep inside me that I never felt before when surrounded by death. Especially when we enter the cemetary and see the rawness of the rectangular hole and the mounds of fresh dirt. The roots of the nearby tree show down deep into the hole. This stood out later in my mind when his sisters were discussing how they worried about the large tree at the base of Felipe's mother and father's grave. I don't know what kind it is but they worried because the roots grow really big and they don't want them to bother their parents as they rest. When I saw the large tree I remember being thankful that there was shade over his parents and shade over the visitors. It just seems right that in death, the get to be an a place surrounded by shade, since it is such a rarity in this part of Mexico to find a cool spot to rest.

His sister Filo told us how when his father died, all five of his daughter's and his one son that were in Mexico were laying in bed with him. How different from most death's in the United States which happen in a nursing home or hospital with only strangers as witnesses. Apparently, that morning when Ely had checked on him he wasn't breathing and she shook him awake. During one conversation I think I overheard her saying that she felt guilty for bringing him back to life if it was really his time. I wanted to tell her that it was a blessing she woke him up and he was able to stay alive until 3pm. If he had died that morning I would have had to go to Felipe's work to tell him instead of giving him the news in the privacy of our home. If she had called too late we wouldn't have been able to see him at all. We may have been able to get to Mexico that day if she had called soon after his death so we could have seen him a little more and mourned in the house with his family. However, a part of me is glad we arrived after he was in the church and didn't see him laying in his bedroom. Right now the last image I have of him alive is in July when I hugged him goodbye as he sat in his doorway in a blue plastic chair. I wouldn't want that image replaced with one of him in a coffin with everyone sobbing around it.

Almost every day last week when Felipe came home from work he said to me "I'm sad today. I couldn't stop thinking about my daddy." It hurts me because I have had nightmares for as long as I can remember (back to elementary school) of my parents dying and I know the terrified feeling I have when I wake up in the morning after those dreams. Unfortunately, this is not something that Felipe can wake up from. I used our frequent flyer miles to buy us tickets to go to Mexico for Day of the Dead this year. The first year after someone passes away is the most important and it is such a huge part of Felipe's culture so I knew he wanted to spend the time with his sister's. I know that some day he will take care of me when I need him to.

The following photos are the way I want to choose to remember Felipe's dad and since none of you have ever met him, here are my favorite images. He would have been 74 on October 21st.

The beauty of death in Mexico

The call came at 6:54pm on Tuesday. I saw the number and I knew instantly what it meant. "Erin, mi papá falleció," Ely said in a broken voice. I tried to tell her I was sorry and that Felipe wasn't at home right now and I would have him call at 7:30 when he got back from school. I tried to tell her we would be there tomorrow and not to worry. I'm not sure what I actually said or what she heard because suddenly she was gone.

My mind filled with so many thoughts simultaneously... A choking sadness that we wouldn't see him another time. A deep gratitude that we both spoke with him on Saturday and gave him our thanks for his gifts to us, though he could no longer answer back. A tremendous panic that I was responsible to get Felipe to Mexico. I took a deep breath and turned on the computer.

We knew of his father's failing health. In July, when we last visited, he was just starting to decline. He had lost his ability to walk and needed help to get himself out of bed. After speaking to his family one night in early August Felipe was so sad that I instantly purchased tickets for Labor Day weekend. It was only going to be a short visit but he wanted so badly to see his father again that those 48 hours in Mexico would be precious. Sadly, Hilario couldn't wait those ten more days though his daughter's kept telling him that his son Felipe would be visiting him on September 4th. Solamente 10 días más ‘apá. Solamente 10 días. Only 10 more days papa. Ten more days.

After finding out our available options for changing our flight I sat down on the couch and waited. Felipe called and asked me how many tickets he should buy at Cub for the State Fair. "Just come home, honey. I'll get the tickets tomorrow," I said. "But I'm almost there," he said sounding frustrated with my change of mind since an hour earlier when we spoke I had insisted he stop and pick up the tickets and coupon book for our Thursday night at the fair. "Just come home sweetie. I'm sorry I changed my mind." A few minutes later he came in the door and I asked him to come down stairs and sit next to me. He was cautious, like a kid who knows they are in trouble but not quite sure why. As he sat next to me I felt the tears fill my eyes. "Sweetheart, Ely called. Your father passed away today."

The change on his face was instant, almost before I had finished the sentence. The cry of complete agony that came from him cut through my heart like a razor. He pressed his face to the pillow and sobbed not wanting me to touch him, not wanting comfort. His mother had died when he was 15 and spending time with his father was the most important reason he had for going to Mexico. We had both seen the decline in his father since our first visit in March of 2008, a mere 17 months before his death. When we had left in July, Felipe was crying as he hugged his father and as our taxi pulled away he said, "I feel like this is the last time I will see my dad." How terrible that he was right. "I'm sorry he didn't wait for you, honey," I say now as I pat his back. "But you know he was proud of you."

After a few moments when the initial wave of despair had softened, I told him that I already called the airlines but that he needed to call Mexico and ask about the details of the funeral so I would know what flight we needed to take. I handed him my phone and he called, finding out that the church ceremony was going to be at 3pm the next day and the cemetary at 4pm. "That's so early," I said worriedly, knowing our flight options were slim. "They have to have the body in the ground within 24 hours," Felipe said. "Can we go tonight?" It was already almost 8pm and there was no way we could get packed and get a flight to Mexico for the same evening. The earliest we could get to Mexico City was 1pm in the afternoon. That gave me some hope because I knew the taxi ride was around 2 hours to his town which would put us there at 3pm.

The rest of the evening seemed to pass slowly and quickly at the same time. We packed our suitcases, my mother arrived to spend the night so she could take us to the airport at 5am, I emailed some clients letting them know I would be gone for the next week. At about 11pm we left our house and drove to Minnepolis so we could tell Felipe's two brothers the news. First we went to his younger brother Roni's house and waited for him to return from work. After we told him, we went to Sergio's house and waited for him until 12:30am. He was in the United States when his mother died also but that time his sister's hadn't even told him how seriously ill she was. After we returned home at 2am we tried to sleep. I don't know if either of us slept much between then and 4am when we had to get up to go to the airport.

Sleeping on the plane the next morning was impossible. Most of the ride we passed in silence just holding hands. We plotted each moment at the airport to make sure we made our 28-minute connection in Houston and got from plane to taxi in Mexico City in less than 20 minutes. Somebody was watching over us because our taxi got us to Tetelilla a few minutes after 3. We stopped at his house and put our suitcases in what has become our room and then had the taxi take us to the church. As we stepped out of the taxi I saw Felipe's brother Alejandro and nine-year-old son Fernando sitting outside of the church and the backs of others – our nephews Edgar and Jaime and many people I didn't recognize.

Felipe and I stood at the back of the church and saw the wood coffin with light purple satin gathered along the sides and dark purple velvet edging and cross along the top. Filo, Ely, Abelina and Sofia were standing one at each corner of the coffin. As we stood there at the back of the church I told Felipe to go up with his sisters. He pushed through the back few people and stood there waiting with his hands folded. His nephew Edgar came back and took us to the front of the small church where we sat for a few moments in the second row. With only one pew on each side of the aisle, large enough to hold 4 or 5 people and about 20 rows deep, the church was full to the bursting point of people in mourning.

Sadness spilled down Felipe’s cheeks as his sister Abelina on his right and Filo and Sofia in front turned around and tried to comfort him. I noticed that the people at the corners of the coffin were switching. Soon Filo, the oldest sister, tapped Felipe, and me also, told us to go to his dad and stand. We stood at the front by his feet, closest to the altar. I focused on the Jesus statue trying to control my tears not even trying to understand the Spanish. After that I tried counting the flower arrangements which covered the entire front of the church. The top of the coffin was in the shape of a cross where it would cover his head. The velvet cross was open and you could see his face through a plastic window.

It looked smoother than I remember. The cotton put in the nostrils seemed to have broken his nose giving it a small bump I hadn't seen before but otherwise it was the same face we had seen just 6 weeks earlier. We stood at his feet for the rest of the service while the people behind us took turns switching and silently showing their love and respect. Mariachis were playing from the back of the church on the second floor where a pipe organ would usually sit. At the end of the service all the siblings and spouses and grandchildren came to the front of the church and opened the plastic window to say good bye. Afterwards they lowered the velvet cross and closed the coffin.

Gently, his coffin was lifted up on the shoulders of four men who carried him out of the church as everyone followed. People took the flowers from the church and carried them, surrounding Felipe's dad on either side as the mariachi’s followed playing a somber processional. Periodically the procession would pause as the men carrying switched, to rest from the weight and the intense heat. "You are going to get sunburned," Felipe said to me. I told him not to worry about me right now but that I know how much he loves me and wants to take care of me and his dad would be proud.

At the cemetery everyone paused at the metal gates to allow Hilario to pass first. We walked through to the front where there is a cement slab with a cross. I was looking at the graves as we passed and noticed one wooden cross painted with bright white letters 5 feb 1976. "Look Felipe that person died on your birthday," I exclaimed before realizing it was inappropriate. He did look with me and acknowledge my comment.

As we neared the front of the cemetary I saw the hole dug next to Felipe's mother and sister Hilaria, where Hilario's father and brother were buried. There were two black garbage bags tied shut next to the tree and some rope and shovels. The men put Felipe's dad on the cement table and opened the coffin. There Filo straightened his body and arranged him with the same love she had given him in life. Then she took a glass of water and used a flower to sprinkle drops of water on his body while she spoke to him. Each person in the family took turns with the glass, sprinkling water as they said a final goodbye and giving him a kiss on the forehead. All the while the mariachis were playing their somber music.

When everyone was done Filo put his favorite hat inside with him and closed the coffin. The same men picked up the coffin and carried it to the mound of dirt next to the grave while Felipe's brother Ale, nephew Jaime and brother-in-laws Leonardo and Eligio wrapped the bright blue rope around it. I realized in surprise that we were going to stay there while they actually covered his body, something I had never seen before. The rope was looped just once on each end of the coffin and the men lowered it in slowly. Towards the bottom the coffin started to tilt slightly to one side and I worried that it would tip all the way. I kept thinking how his sister must want to go down there and fix her dad. How terribly sad to watch. Then someone jumped in and straightened the coffin and unlooped the ropes. Ale picked up a shovel and started to throw dirt in. Ely, Felipe's younger sister collapsed in to her friend. Everyone’s face ran with tears. Katy clung to Edgar. Neto stood on the other side with his girlfriend. After a foot or so of dirt was on top, Ale threw in the two black garbage bags and it wasn’t until then I realized those were the remains of Hilario's father and brother which had been recovered when the hole was dug.

When the hole was filled rocks were piled on top and around the edge. Ale replaced the crosses of Hilario's dad and brother and the family helped cover the entire grave with flowers. Everyone started to leave until it was only Felipe and I. Then Ale came back and sat on a large rock at the foot of the grave. Felipe said goodbye to his dad. Told him he had a good life and raised good children and thanked him for all that he gave his children and grandchildren, his voice cracking as he spoke. Tears streamed down Ale’s face as Fernando came back to sit by his dad.

Feli and I started to walk back together. We passed the grave I had seen on the way in. "Your birthday," I said again. "Somebody died when I was born," Felipe said. One life ends as another begins.

Returned to the house where people were sitting at tables under a blue tarp eating. Felipe and I went down the street to Sofia’s house for a few moments of privacy. When we came back and sat in the kitchen having some rice, hard boiled eggs, and tortillas, very different from a Lutheran funeral lunch. Felipe visited with people in the kitchen. Felipe saw his sister Ely laying on the bed and tried to comfort her. She wasn’t crying just exhausted after four nights of staying up to take care of her dad.

All evening people pass in and out of Hilario's room sitting in chairs and talking and praying. Once everyone left, just as it was getting dark we finally went into his father’s bedroom. There was a table draped in black where his body had rested from the time of his death until his coffin was carried to the church 24 hours later. Covered in flowers, a black crucifix was at the head underneath a photo of Felipe's parents taken before their first child. The thick, heavy smell of incense overwhelmed my nostrils as I entered the room. A heavy wooden cross which will become his grave marker is laid down the center of the table. On the left side of the cross amongst all the flowers is a glass of water and plate with two tortillas. On the right side is a little jar of beans, and his glass of chocolate with sweet bread resting on top. These are called ofrendas and they are at one time the thing I find most beautiful and most heartbreaking about death in Mexico. Every morning one of Felipe's sisters prepares the fresh food for his dad and brings it to him just as if he were alive.

Candles lighted on top and underneath the table along with a small light so you could see the picture of his parents on the wall even in the dark. We sat talking to Filo while she told Felipe about his father’s last days. She told Felipe how his father would always look at the picture on the wall of his four sons that we had brought for him in July. It was his wish to one day have all of his children and grandchildren together with him but that is one of the great tragedies of the Mexican. In order to support a family it is often necessary to leave and go to the US to send money home. The terrible sacrifice is that person then gives up the ability to return to be with family, even when death occurs. I'm thankful that we brought him that photo so he felt close to the three sons that were in the US and unable to be with him.

The flickering candles made the top of the black cross appear like a skull. Someone has to always be sitting in the room and awake so his father isn't lonely. Even karla had stayed home from the funeral procession to keep him company in the room. Felipe carried a mattress in there and his sister Sofia slept there while Felipe stayed awake until 4am when I made him wake a sister to replace him. For 8 days there is someone always in the room with his dad, awake 24 hours a day. Every night at 8pm people from town come to pray and bring flowers. Each day as word spreads around town more and more people show up. Now the room is almost so full of flowers that it is hard to fit the mattress. Each night Felipe and I sit in his dad's room and watch his sister's sleep on the matress laid on the floor, holding each other and tryint to fill the loneliness. One night Ely, Filo, Sofia and Arlin all squeezed onto one queen matress. On the eighth day after the funeral they carry what is left of the flowers over to the cemetery along with the cross to put in as his grave marker. Unfortunately that is on Thursday and we leave on Wednesday.

Walking by my suegro’s room in the morning on my way to the bathroom I no longer see him sitting in the door. He doesn’t laugh quietly to himself as I greet him with my broken Spanish. Instead I glimpse the black cloth covered in flowers and see the glowing of candles. Things will never seem the same here and my heart goes out to Felipe and his family for their tremendous loss.

Just a gringa

Well, I'm sad to say that I've discovered no matter how much Spanish I speak or books I read about Mexican culture, in the end I'll still be a gringa. Now I'll say up front that those are not Felipe's words because if they were he would be on the couch indefinitely. He has always asked me why I married a Mexican and if I ever wish I married an American. He usually brings up the question after a bad cultural experience, like when his boss for a day at Gastof's harrassed him about our relationship, or when there is an immigration raid somewhere in the country. I take his questions as more of a reflection on his self-esteem when it comes to being a Mexican and it saddens me greatly.

It's a hard line to walk from my side. I knew where he was from and his situation before our first date so I had already made a conscious decision not to let any of that be a factor in our relationship. I DO care that he is Mexican though, in the way that I want to learn his culture and language and history so I can appreciate where he is from and where his family still lives. I want our future kids to love their Mexican heritage and look forward to visits south of the border. I've spent hours studying Spanish and taking classes. I have read many books on Mexican history or on Mexican's in the US. I really do try to be patient with the cultural differences such as time (that's the most different).

My disappointing discovery last weekend was that despite all this effort, his family will always consider me a gringa. They would never tell me this but Felipe was talking with his brother Sergio about some things and told him I would like to help him and the family. His brother told him that he likes me but he would never let me help because "I can't understand because I'm an American." Of course, he said it in Spanish but that was the translation that Felipe told me later. The topic in question was something that I pride myself very much on knowing a lot about. My initial reaction was anger which Felipe experienced the entire car ride home. Then I was sad. So sad and disappointed. I know it isn't how Felipe feels and I know our relationship is as "race free" as any bi-racial couple can truly be but I thought I was making more progress with his family. How can they like me if they don't think I understand them? Even after Felipe's intense immigration process last year.

A week later I'm still sad. Now I'm also confused and worried, not about us but about children. I want them to feel comfortable everywhere and his brother's comment scares me and makes me feel like they are going to feel like they don't fit in anywhere. They're American but not white like their mom. They are Mexican but not really Mexican like their dad. Where do they fit? Will they resent me or him or both of us? Whew.... a lot to worry about when there aren't even any kids on the horizon. Maybe I should stop for the evening and just enjoy the time at the lake while summer still lasts! Good night from the Gringa.

Long time no write

Wow.... So much has happened that I should have put on here but I have had a hard time logging on. I don't know why. This spring Felipe and I both gave speeches at a cultural event in Elk River in front of a crowd of over 100 people. It was pretty amazing for both of us and Felipe cracked everyone up by saying he was so nervous he was going to pee his pants. It was a great experience.

As March and April went by we both reminisced about being in Mexico and talked about how lucky we were to have the opportunity to spend two months travelling and how sad it was that we were both so nervous most of the time.

We spent July 4th weekend in Mexico. It was a short trip and very disappointing. We didn't really get to visit with his family at all because the local elections were held on July 5th and his sister Sofia was running for on office. Politicians are paid very well down in Mexico which is why it is a very sought after job and elections are a huge deal. There were over a dozen people running for the same position. Apparently a lot of the campaigning takes place right beforehand. Well, not the campaigning so much as the sabotage of opponents. Felipe's nephews and nieces were all running over the town like a bunch of spies taking photos of "secret" meetings with other candidates and trying to make sure no one was planning a negative attack on Sofia. I don't know. I didn't understand because it is so different than here. Here politicians don't sneak around attacking their opponents, they pay millions of dollars to prance about commercials on TV proclaiming bad things. All I know is we flew down there and spent four of the five days with each other.

Felipe did get to spend some time alone with his dad and that was good. His father's health is failing and he can no longer walk. That is very sad to see and even I can see that his father is getting very depressed. I am afraid he will just refuse to eat one of these days. From what I saw and the description of what happened to his dad I am convinced that he must have recently had a stroke. It breaks my heart to see the conditions in Mexico and to think that if he was here, the care would be different and he may have a better chance of recovery. Felipe's sisters care for their dad very, very well but there are some major cultural differences that concern me. For example, Felipe offered to carry his dad to the shower (it is about 300 feet from his room) because he hadn't been able to shower in 10 days and it is so hot down there during the day. His dad told him the doctor said he couldn't shower because of his medicine. Now maybe I'm wrong but I have heard of no medicine to treat high blood pressure or diabetes (his dad's conditions) that say you can't shower. Felipe's sisters won't argue with him though because he's the dad. They don't even sponge bathe him because he doesn't want to. It is wonderful in Mexico that they have so much respect for their parents and the parents authority (I'm sure I'll appreciate trying to teach my kids that some day) but their is a point where I would force my own parents to listen to me if I knew it was for their benefit. Even if it meant hiring a nurse to come wash them if I thought they'd hate me for doing it myself. I don't know. It just makes me sad to see it and so sad for Felipe. He's already lost his mother and I could tell his heart was breaking every time he looked at his dad, realizing that it was very possibly the last time he would see him. I can't imagine being in his shoes. He is constantly forced to choose between his family in Mexico and his family here. It makes me feel guilty to admit that I am glad every time that he chooses me and comes home again. I would have a hard time doing that if it was my mom or dad suffering. At least now he has the gift of being able to visit whenever he can get vacation and doesn't have to do a dozen years without seeing them. I don't know how soon we will go back but I'm glad we saw his father another time.

One year anniversary

Well, today marks a year since our first full day on the road to Mexico (we left at about 8pm the night of the 24th). We were nervous, scared and unsure of our future. Now, we look back and realize how lucky we were to have a two month road trip and to see so many places across both of our countries. Unfortunately, throughout most of the trip we were anxious and did not fully enjoy the experience because we were so worried about his interview. It is also sad that we had to spend 10 days of our trip in the horrible city of Juarez but we did get to spend three full weeks with Felipe's family as well. The last year 10 months of being back in Minnesota has given us perspective on our trip and taught us to take advantage of the opportunities you have and enjoy each experience as you are going through it. Don't worry about the future too much because it can overshadow your enjoyment of the present.

How we met (en espanol)

When we were in Mexico Felipe's sister Ely asked me how Felipe and I met and I was not able to explain very well speaking and it frustrated me so bad that the next day I spend two hours writing this story with a little (no really... only a little) help from Felipe (just ask him! he was very proud)


La historia de cómo nos conocimos

En octubre de 2000, Felipe empezó al mismo trabajo de mí. Yo trabajé en la oficina y Felipe trabajó en la cocina. No hablábamos por seis meses porque yo creía que Felipe no hablaba ingles. En mayo de 2001 yo empecé a sentarme con los cocineros para almuerzo y hablábamos. Yo pensaba que Felipe era un poco guapo pero creía que el estaba casado y tuvo 4 hijos porque veía su forma de impuestos. En septiembre de 2001 cuando yo hablaba con mi amiga Conchie (ella y su esposo eran amigos de Felipe también) yo les dije que Felipe estaba casado pero Conchie dijo no era la verdad. Felipe solamente quería pagar menos impuestos. Durante septiembre Felipe y yo hablábamos mucho más (siempre en ingles) y tuvimos nuestra primera cita en 6 de octubre.

Durante la cita me preguntó muchas preguntas y Felipe era muy tímido. Dijo que solamente tiene 2 hermanos y 1 hermana. Hablábamos un poquito sobre su mamá y su pueblo en México. Era un poco difícil cuando empecemos conocer una al otro porque Felipe no era confortable en lugares con muchos gringos y yo no era confortable en lugares con muchos latinos. Era muy difícil también porque yo no supe mucho sobre la cultura mexicana y tuve pocas ideas malas (por ejemplo, creía que los hombres le gusta muchas cervezas y muchas mujeres). Felipe tuvo ideas malas sobre gringas también porque sus hermanos y sobrinos supieron muchos mexicanos que tuvieron novias americanas que eran malas. Felipe siempre me dijo malas historias a cerca de las americanas y yo me sentí mal porque no todas somos las mismas. Le dije a Felipe que yo, había viajado a muchos países y que quería saber mucho de culturas y quería conocer su cultura y su vida en México pero era muy difícil para Felipe que me creyera.

Los meses primeros eran muy difíciles para nosotros porque tuvimos muchos malentendidos. No pudimos comunicar bien. En la primavera de 2002, cuando yo empecé enseñar a Felipe a manejar, Felipe empezó creerme mucho más. Entonces, Felipe me dijo tiene 3 hermanos y 1 hermana. Pensaba que es un poco extraña pero no dije nada. No recuerdo que mes pero en la primavera fuimos al apartamento de Felipe y sus hermanos para mirar una pelea. Encontré Sofia, José y Arlin primero. Estaba muy nerviosa porque supe que Felipe nunca hablaba de mí. Era un poco difícil para comunicar pero Felipe traducía. Un poco después fuimos al apartamento de Felipe y Roni abrió la puerta y supe que él era un hermano de Felipe porque tienen caras similares. Hubieron muchos hombres en la sala y estaba más nerviosa.

En mayo mis padres compramos una casa en Florida e invitaron a Felipe pero él no quiso ir porque no conocía mis padres bien. Durante el año, Felipe y yo fuimos a muchos lugares en Minnesota. Él le gustan los casinos y el lago superior y las cascadas en el norte de Minnesota. También la feria de mi estado porque hay mucha comida rica y muchas cosas interesantes. Fuimos a una huerta de manzanas en el otoño.

Cuando Felipe y yo estuvimos juntos por un año o más, Felipe dijo que tiene 5 hermanas y 3 hermanos. Yo dije, ¿qué es la verdad? Finalmente él realizaba que yo no era una mujer mala. Hablábamos mucho de su familia porque yo quería saber los nombres, edades y cuentos de México y especialmente cuentos cuando Felipe era joven. Me preguntó sobre su mamá también porque estaba triste no fue posible para conocerla.

En pocos años Felipe y yo viajamos mucho y pasar tiempo con nuestras familias. Pasamos todos los fines de semanas juntos. En febrero de 2003 fuimos a Florida para visitar mis padres y fuimos a Disney World. Fueron unas vacaciones muy divertidas y Felipe le gusta mucho Disney World porque hay muchas cosas bonitas y actividades. En julio de 2003 fuimos a la cabaña de mis padres con Sergio y Lalo. Hablaba con Lalo y yo repetía sus nombres de la familia de Felipe (necesitaba practicar porque su familia de Felipe es muy grande que la mía) y Lalo dijo “Olvidaste mi tía Eustolia.” Esta vez estaba enojada y Felipe y yo discutimos. Después, nosotros prometamos solamente hablar la verdad y no tuvimos más problemas. En septiembre de 2004 fuimos a Yellowstone, un parque en el oeste de los EE.UU. que tiene montañas, aguas termales, lagos claritos, y géiseres. Las montañas eran muy bonitas. En julio de 2005 fuimos a Las Vegas, una ciudad grande con muchos casinos y luces bonitas en la noche.

En septiembre de 2005 Felipe y yo fuimos al norte de Minnesota otra vez. El tercer día de nuestras vacaciones Felipe tuvo una sorpresa grande. Después de montarnos nuestras bicicletas estábamos descansando cerca de un lago. Él me propuso matrimonio y yo dije ¡Claro que sí! Me dio un anillo de matrimonio muy bonito. Nuestra boda era el 7 de enero de 2006 y era un día perfecto. Tuvimos flores muy bonitas en memoria de su madre. Era una ceremonia muy pequeña, con menos de 30 personas. Felipe era muy triste y enojado porque su hermano Ale no trabajó y aunque no fue a nuestra boda. Tuvimos una traductora porque el pastor no habló español. Ella era un poco mal porque no tradujo el mensaje del pastor, solamente las oraciones. Fuimos en una limosina muy grande al restaurante que Roni trabaja por la cena. Bebimos vino y champaña y era muy bueno porque mi familia y su familia estaban juntas por la primera vez. La cena estuvo muy buena y tuvimos mucha conversación y divertida con nuestras familias. Su familia en México llamó a él para felicitarlo. Después de hablar con su papá, Felipe estuvo triste porque no era posible, para él no celebrar con su papá y sus hermanas y era un día muy importante en su vida. Estaba llorando por un pocos minutos pero yo dije (en ingles claro) “no preocupas mi amor porque visitarlos muy pronto.”

Pasamos nuestra luna de miel en Las Vegas porque es el lugar que Felipe quiso. Empecé el proceso por su visa pero tuvimos miedo porque la ley dice es posible que Felipe necesita vivir en México por 18 meses y necesitamos ahorrar más dinero. En enero de 2007 fuimos a Disney World otra vez para celebrar nuestro aniversario. Decidimos continuar con su proceso de inmigración porque ahorramos suficiente dinero. Cuando yo hablé con el abogado él dijo que la ley era diferente y posiblemente Felipe no necesita vivir en México por 18 meses, solamente pocas días o semanas. Hablé con mis padres y ellos dijeron es muy importante para mí a ir con mi esposo porque nosotros estábamos nerviosos y quisimos estar juntos. También yo quise conocer su pueblo y su familia en México. Yo estaba muy nerviosa para conocerlos porque no hablo español bien y sabía que las opiniones de su familia son muy importantes para Felipe. Creo que todo estaba bien y su familia es muy amable. Estoy mucho feliz porque ahora cuando Felipe habla sobre su familia o de su pueblo yo sé quien o de que habla. Me gusta mucho cuando sus hermanas dijeron historias a Felipe porque todos están felices y estaban riendo y sonriendo mucho.

Ahora todo está bien porque mis padres aman Felipe como un hijo y podemos visitar su familia en México y pasar tiempo con ellos. Un día cuando tenemos niños, queremos vivir en México y si es posible trabajar allí porque creímos que es importante por nuestros hijos hablar español bien, conocer su familia y conocer la cultura mexicana.

Photo album from Holidays in Mexico

Here is the link to all our photos from our December 21st, 2008 - Jan 5th, 2009 trip to Tetelilla, Morelos, Mexico.

You will need to cut and paste it. I'll post it on the side too if I remember how!

http://picasaweb.google.com/erinjohnson821/TetelillaMexicoHolidays2008?authkey=EoOYCnm4_NU#

Back home and lonely

Well, Felipe and I made it home safely on Monday night after a very, very long day of travel (starting at 5am and ending at 1am Tues). It was sad to say goodbye to his family, especially his dad, but we felt upbeat all day because we were excited to get home. However, once we got home and our house was cold and quiet we really, really missed all of his family in Mexico and the togetherness we feel when we are there. Our house still feels lonely with just the two of us here.

Tuesday the 6th was another holiday in Mexico that we missed called Day of the Kings (Dia de los Reyes). "Santa" (they actually say the kings) comes on the night of the 5th and delivers presents to the children. They do it this way because the 6th is when the three kings brought presents to Jesus. On that day there is a special bread called Rosca de Reyes. It's in the shape of a circle and has dried fruit on top. Inside somewhere there is a little plastic doll about 1 inch long. Whoever gets the doll has to provide tamales and chocolate for anyone in town who wants to come over on Feb 2nd. Felipe's pretty sure it's not because of Groundhog's Day =) but can't remember exactly why it's that day.

On another note, we celebrated our 3rd anniversary yesterday. This 3rd year of marriage has completely flown by and I have a hard time believing it has been that long already. Although the Oceanaire is where we had our wedding dinner, Felipe likes to go to Ichiban's so we went there instead and had the sushi bar. I'm glad to report we are still happy although definitely out of the "honeymoon phase" and are willing to argue openly when necessary =)

About to leave

We are getting ready to leave today after our two weeks in Felipe's home town. It is sad and happy at the same time. We are glad to go back to our home and work (scary I know) but we are sad to be leaving his family again knowing we won't be back here for quite a few months.

Today we packed and went around looking around his town some more taking pictures and buying some presents for his family in the states. We also went to the cemetary because I wanted to see where his mother was buried and also his sister Hilaria that died last December. They are both buried in the same grave. All those flowers are from December 9th when it was the 1st anniversary of her death. It was sad to go there but it was nice to see it. Felipe's mom's name is no longer on the gravesite because the paint has worn off the cross (she died in Sept of 1991) but he asked his sisters if they could have it painted back on.

I don't have time to write much more because we want to visit with his family some more but I will upload all my pictures from our Tetelilla Christmas onto a web album and post the link here after we get home.

Buenos noches everyone and we'll hope for a safe journey back to Minnesota tomorrow. Dad told me it is -10. Gee, we can't wait! =(

New Year's Day

Felipe and Neto hanging up the pinatas for New Year's (even though we still haven't cracked them open). Felipe's whole family came over last night and we had dinner together, starting the meal at about midnight. We ate shrimp soup, quesadillas (which are more like what we would call tacos) and potato salad - who would have thought that was a Mexican treat- and this chicken that was pounded almost completely flat.

These are some of our nieces and nephews - Neto 20, Gaby 18, Deysi 23, Edgar almost 18. Felipe's dad even stayed up this time and came over to eat. He didn't on Christmas. We toasted at midnight which is similar to in the US but then we went around and gave everyone hugs. It was really nice to be able to spend New Year's with them and Felipe was happy he was able to hug his dad for the new year. We ended up going to bed around 2am although we still didn't get to crack open the pinatas. Oh well. My pictures did not turn out very clearly because I didn't use the flash. His family glares at me a little when I take photos as it is so I didn't want to make them mad. It was a different experience to spend New Year's with family since we usually celebrate with friends in the US. Except the last few years we have gone over to Felipe's brother's house. Oh well, that's all for tonight. I'm going to try to call my mama on Skype.