Japhy Part 3

So it is pouring out now.  And the story continues by way of the next escape.  So much happened in between,  the entry into denial, and desperation, and depression.  But the trying to be true, Mexico.  Then, the living all of us together and grieving and the sewage in the basement and the falling into sadness and isolation.

So I went to Costa Rica.  

This is a beautiful story.

In the hills of Costa Rica.  Which is a country of this unique quality:  You can wake up and have breakfast on the Pacific, have lunch in the lush green mountains, and be to the Carribean in time for dinner.  Yes it is narrow, but long enough that my exodus to the lush green middle, in the lower regions near Panama, felt worlds away from anything.  Hiking into this farm.  Meeting these unusually centered folks.  Finding my strength.

And so, to call Grandma on her 80th birthday, I walked the 6 miles down to the village on a narrow path, littered with fresh mangoes and the sounds of life amidst greenery.  I hitched in at the road, made my call and started back up.  

These mangoes are the small variety, they are so ripe they either fall or can be easily picked for consumption.  Use the knife to peal back the skin, suck in the juices. 

Then, the earth moved.  And there was no traditional frame of reference.  No houses, no furniture--only trees and rocks, and earth.  Which shook.