ESTA ES SU CASA--SEPTEMBER 2013
“BENDICION”
THE BEACON spruced up last month’s CASA:
https://www.stlbeacon.org/#!/content/32153/voices_dulick_manuel_073113
See you soon!
I’ll be in St. Louis Sep 17 - Oct 15, at Teresa Jorgen’s:
731 Simmons Ave. Kirkwood, MO 63122 (314-966-5782);
also available by my cell phone 314-210-5303.
At this point, I hesitate to say anything definitive about Guillermo. Cancer is a monster, no matter how you engage it. But chemo is a WMD, too. Guillermo’s back home, now, in Las Vegas, emaciated, shriveled, and weak as a pillow case after 35 days of radiation and about 6 rounds of chemo. (I just couldn’t take a picture of him like that; the photo included here is BEFORE all the treatments.) For all of you who have carried him with prayer and lifted him up in your kind thoughts, thank you. And for your donations that have made his travel, lodging, meds, and treatments possible, words cannot match your generosity. Every time Guillermo and his wife Erlinda reach the end of their rope, I hammer my way into my balky Yahoo mail and see that someone has thrown us another line.
His next appointment is September 16, with another one scheduled for September 30 and yet another October 15. Erlinda and Guillermo are so discouraged they really don’t want any more. “Miguel, we’re done.” Maybe in the States you have more confidence in the ultra-modern “health center” for your monthly dose, but it’s a whole other experience to trundle six or seven hours in a bus Indiana Jones wouldn’t ride to a place that could serve as a set for “The Conjuring.” You get discouraged sometimes. I have seen dear friends on Caring Bridge struggle with and master the cancer anaconda and write about it with almost celestial eloquence. But it gives me the chills. Facing death, how do you let a raft of strangers--doctors, nurses, technicians, not to mention machines--get involved with the most pressing intimacies of your life? I guess that’s absurd, huh? My own son is named Chemo! Of course, it’s short for Anselmo, but every time I say it or see it now, I want to scream.
No doubt, Guillermo will resume the fight, and with your help, hope is re-born.
Taking my own medicine, you might say, I swallowed hard and paid my $400 light bill. I was in mourning the rest of the day. It’s a huge mistake; they are charging me for months that I already paid, but I decided I better get it off the books before I go to the States, and I just hope that once they see the error of their ways they will cut me a deal on future bills. I have gone round and round with the electric company, and, like Guillermo’s cancer, there seems to be no end. But I couldn’t have paid a dime without a little help from my friends--you know who you are!--who somehow went above and beyond, even to the point of throwing good money after bad. Thank you!
Manuel keeps improving, after his grievous brush with death following epileptic seizures. He’s actually resumed his visits to my house. I anticipated his return, after I saw how hungrily he ate Chemo’s leftovers when I went up to Terrero Blanco where Manuel lives, and I had the makings for--can I say this without laughing?--spaghetti Bolognese on hand. Oh, it’s just pasta doused with a little tomato paste/sauce and a good handful of “carne molida” (ground beef). And a two-liter soda. I had to take a picture quick before he devoured it. But he did not eat it all, so I packed it up to take home for later. (He ate it as soon as he got home, I learned later.) When he didn’t come back down to Las Vegas for about a week, I went up again to visit, this time with spaghetti and chicken. He looked really good, and he sang and joked more than ever. These hikes just knock me out, so I had to laugh when he showed up at my house only a half hour after I got home! Still hungry. Manuel’s photo graces the cover of my new photobook, “Dios Es Amor” (‘God Is Love’), which I just uploaded to Apple. You’ll see it in St. Louis!
Speaking of Chemo, he’s on life-support, academically speaking. His latest grades seemed hopeless, though I was not going to shame him or humiliate him, until Profe Flor told me he does not even go to class anymore! He sort of hides out in the far corner of the campus, virtually invisible under some shady trees. Nevertheless, Profe Horacio, co-principal with Flor, made Chemo a proposal: “Chemo, if you pass the next two quarters, we’ll pass you for the year.” So he’s actually applying himself a little more! It’s his last chance.
Don Ramiro, who celebrated his 100th birthday a couple months ago (see the June CASA), died peacefully last week. This was one funeral, including another home Mass with Padre Manuel, that satisfied the soul, celebrating such a full life. The novenario was nine days of conversations, everyone eager to participate with stories and memories, rather than a lengthy mourning.
Right on cue, as it were, arrived Ramiro’s neighbor Paola’s 100th birthday. She is weak but still attentive and alert. And another Mass with Padre Manuel! He said the other day that nowadays people only believe what they see, so, “We try to be everywhere.” And he and Padre Jaime are doing a great job of it! But Manuel will be stretched a little thin the next six months while Jaime is in Cuba for final formation as a Jesuit. Paola’s family is a church in itself; her children and grandchildren and even great-grandchildren are everywhere, too, as teachers, delegados, catechists, Youth Group, you name it, preaching the faith “in season and out of season,” as St. Paul prescribed.
Padre Jaime’s send-off was August 24 at the annual all-parish gathering that concludes the “Month of the Family.” Las Vegas’ population tripled, at least for a few hours, as we celebrated with a Mass, various performances, and of course lots of tasty food. Mindful of his departure, no doubt, Jaime preached from the heart and performed a couple songs himself. “IMPACTO,” the theater wing of the Youth Group, did a mime piece they had tracked down on YouTube, and Doricell led an all-girl band in a catchy song her father Elvis composed for the occasion.
A much smaller group but just as enthusiastic gathered for Elio’s 63rd birthday August 28. I made a special trip to Tegucigalpa to attend. I wanted to take Chemo, but I thought I better not ask for another three-day “permiso” just after they promised him success at the school. I compensated by bringing him back one of these cheap iPod Nano knock-offs they sell on the streets for about 5 bucks. Years ago, before Elio had so many grandchildren, these parties were a little more formal. Now they are free-for-alls, and the kids take the lead. Of course, the festivities end a little earlier now too, bedtime on a school night, you know!
As I have noted before, one of my proudest accomplishments here was to break the habit folks had of derogatory nicknames, such as “Mudo” for Juan Carlos or “Mongolito” for Ery. Now I’m starting a new trend, let’s see how it goes. Children customarily ask a “Bendicion” (‘blessing’) from their godparents, uncles and aunts, and parents, any adult relative, really. The response is “Bendiga” (short for ‘God bless you’). Well, my variation is to ask the KIDS for a blessing. I got the idea from Pope Francis, who surprised the adoring crowds in Vatican Square, eager for the blessing of the new pope, by asking first for THEIR blessing, and you may remember how deeply he bowed his head to receive it. In its full form, the blessing includes placing your hand (preferably both hands) on the child’s head. It’s catching on a little, at least among Chemo’s family, and Maricela’s, too. Don’t be surprised if I spring it on YOU, too!
But you have already so richly blessed me and all of us here that my head is always bowed.
Love, Miguel
