The next day, Wayne contacted the realtor and put in the offer on the three condo compound. All three owners accepted our offers. We agreed on October 12 as closing day, but Wayne wanted to leave for Mexico by the first.

A friend from Ajijic with air miles to spend was coming for a visit. Barb would arrive right after our anniversary, August 21, and leave right before my birthday, August 30. She decided to come before we had any of the test results. Her intention was to help me pack for a move to Mexico. She was bringing a carry-on, and I would send two suitcases full of knick knacks and such back with her. That way, I would have six suitcases that I could take to Mexico instead of the four Wayne and I would be allowed when we flew to Mexico.

I had the suitcases packed before she arrived. Barb helped me decide what to weed out of my closet and helped haul stuff to Goodwill and Salvation Army. Mostly, though, she made sure I had fun. We went to the movies. We had a shopping spree at the Dillard's Closeout Store, for Barb's benefit since I was downsizing. She even helped me to find size two sandals with an arch, something I thought did not exist. Sandals are a staple in Ajijic. We actually stumbled across them when we wandered into a flip flop shop on the way to the theater. We sampled lots of Louisiana cuisine.

Barb clowning in the Flip Flop Shop

I did not realize how emotionally draining downsizing could be. As I sorted through years of accumulated memories, Wayne suggested we consider driving to Mexico rather than flying.

"That way, you can take some of your paintings that are too large for suitcases. And we can fit in the hot tub."

He knew how much I enjoyed my evenings in the hot tub.

"But that would mean we couldn't go in with a permanent status. We can't have an American car if we're permanent residents."

After much deliberation, we decided to drive to Mexico. He would go in as permanent and I would go in on a temporary status, since the car was in my name. That would allow me to take some of the things that I couldn't pack in a suitcase, like artwork I'd collected over the years and other momentos with no value except for the memories they held. It would allow Wayne to bring some tools, something high on his list.

The next month would be filled with activity as we downsized 45 years of collectables into what a car would hold. It was still an emotional undertaking, but knowing I could take more than four suitcases  made downsizing less traumatic.

I measured the inside of our Prius. If you've never tried stuffing a Prius, they hold a lot. Wayne also bought a car top carrier. One of the bags we had was actually designed to hold a ton of soccer balls. I rolled jackets and shirts and stuffed it full. We tied it to the hatchback.

I laid out our stuff in the laundry room in an area the size of the inside of the Prius. I had a stack or possibles on the side that I hoped to fit in, but I put in the musts first. I put in five paintings, including the two of Wayne and I painted in a Western motif and one my mother had painted. Among the musts were sheets and towels. We had been warned that you couldn't buy high thread count sheets in Mexico or plush towels.

Wayne made sure that he could fit in our big screen TV and two smaller TVs for the two casitas. He sorted and selected tools. He went through our electronics and selected what we would take. Electronics are expensive in Mexico. He also sorted through lots of chords and decided what we might need.

A big issue for me were the years of photo albums I owned, two long shelves full. I knew I could not take them with me; they took up too much room. Katherine had posted a lot of old photos of her family on facebook. I asked how she had done it. She purchased a scanner and scanned them. She loaned me her scanner. For a week, I scanned photos, separating them into stacks, one for each of my three boys, one for Bella -- the only granddaughter, one for Jana -- our German exchange daughter, one for my family and one for Wayne's, one for Wayne and I, and one for friends through the years. As I scanned I posted them on facebook.

Hector was thrilled. For years, he begged to see pictures of Caleb as he grew up, but he had never made a visit to the states and none of us had room for photo albums when we visited Mexico. Now he projected the pictures from the computer onto the television. He got to watch Caleb grow up. The same was true for Daniel and Katherine; they got to watch their spouses lives via electronic pictures.

While all of this was happening, Micah called his brothers.

"If the doctors are right, this could be Mama's last good Christmas. We all need to meet in Mexico and make it a truly memorable one."

Caleb and Hector, of course, were on board. They would drive out from Guadalajara no matter what the rest did. Katherine had to work Christmas Day, but she, Aaron and Bella decided to come for a week, flying back home on Christmas Eve. Micah and Daniel had to work around Micah's school schedule. They would arrive late on the 22nd. He and Aaron would overlap for only a day, but we would celebrate together as a family on the 23rd.

When the boys told me of their plan, I couldn't have been more thrilled. Never had all three boys and their spouses been together with Wayne and I. The boys had all been there for Micah's wedding, but Hector was in Venezuela with a sick grandmother. Katherine was not yet in Aaron's life.

This thrilling news helped alleviate the pain I was feeling as I sorted possessions and scanned pictures. Things were not important; people were. The most important people in my life would be in Mexico with us to celebrate Christmas.

The subdivision where Carmen's house was located had a rule against garage sales. (I still thought of it as Carmen's house, even though it was now in our name.) However, they did allow estate sales for those moving out of the neighborhood. We debated whether to hold such a sale. In the end, we decided against it. We listed a few items on Craig's list, but most of our furniture and household goods, we donated to Jeff and another flood victim from our church.

Jeff had lost the contents of his house. He would get a bit of money from Fema to replace the contents. Since we owned the house and he was buying it from us, he got nothing for repairs. The house was considered rental property, even though Jeff owned three quarters of the house.

Faye was about ten years older than us. She had been our Sunday school teacher at one point in the past. She had lost everything, too. She had some money for repairs, but had nothing with which to buy replacement furniture and household goods.

We called her and asked her to come over. She walked through our house in a daze, not believing that we would give her all the things we pointed out. Many were antiques that had belonged to Wayne's mother or grandmother. They had both been friends of hers for years. We knew she would appreciate them. Jeff had a two year old who was hard on furniture. He got the utilitarian things.

When Faye's granddaughter and her husband came to pick up the things we'd donated, they brought a trailer and a pickup. It took two trips to get it all. Faye had told them it would fit in the back of a pickup truck. I warned them that she was mistaken. When Faye saw all of the things we had sent to her renovated, but empty, home, she broke down in tears.

The last of my downsizing blues were discarded as I saw her and Jeff's responses to our generosity. It was just stuff, but it was stuff they needed. We didn't need it. Our houses in Mexico came completely furnished. I had a partial list of what was there. Other than sheets and towels, I took very little in the way of household supplies.

God couldn't have given me a better lesson on the unimportance of things. We managed to stuff the back of the Prius with the few things we chose to keep. We downsized a three bedroom house into the back of a hatchback. By the time we were ready to leave, I was thankful that someone wanted our things and would make good use of them.

The month of September was a whirlwind of activity. We made an appointment with the New Orleans Mexican Consulate and got the necessary paperwork done to immigrate to Mexico.

We put Jeff's house in his name, choosing to write off his remaining debt. He had enough problems raising his daughter as a single Dad. A team led by another nephew came in and gutted the house. The Fema money covered the cost of replacement sheetrock and other supplies, since he didn't have to buy new furnishings.
He moved back into his house the day after we left for Mexico.

On the last day of September at about 5pm, we drove our loaded Prius out of Baton Rouge. We were on an adventure orchestrated by God. We didn't know what was ahead of us, but we knew we were going where He was leading.

I could tell you of our journey, but suffice it to say, it was an adventure. Our Prius was loaded with about 1400 pounds of stuff. It was supposed to have a limit of about 800. We made it across Mexican speed bumps, dragging bottom, but our car held up and our tires didn't implode.

We are now living in our dream home in Ajijic. I am under the care of a Mexican doctor who combines natural medicine with conventional. He concocts his own medicines with different formulas for each patient.

Dr. Hector Alverez has succeeded in prolonging of the lives of all of his cancer patients. Some are probably cured, but with cancer you rarely use the word cure. The optimistic wording is "in remission." He attributes his success to God.

"I look at the medical records and talk to the patient. Then I think about everything and God gives me the formula for each one. Your cancer medication is very special. It is just for you, noone else. I cannot guarantee you a long life. Your cancer is very serious, but I believe you will live for many more years than the American doctors think."

I smiled at him. "The number of my days is in God's hands. He has brought me to you. I will take your medicine as prescribed. I intend to enjoy each day God gives to the fullest. If I live another year or another five, it does not matter. What matters is that I take each day given and live it to the fullest."

The cancer is still in my lungs, but I have yet to experience breathing difficulty. That day will probably come, hopefully in the distant future, but if it comes tomorrow, I am ready. In the meantime, I am decorating my casitas and preparing for an influx of friends, family and those who need a healing place. I don't know who God will send, but I know He will send those who need to rest and reconnect with him.

Our compound is called Casa Paz, the house of peace. The three casitas are faith (Casa Fe), hope (Casa Esperanza) and love (Casa Amor). I live in Fe. My journey has been one of faith and it continues. I offer hope and love to those in need of emotional healing and rest. This is the ministry Wayne and I have embarked on. I can't wait to see what the future holds.

Author's Note

I know this is not the ending envisioned by my readers. Most seem to expect a fairy tale ending where the cancer is eradicated, and I live happily everafter. I hope you have come to understand as you read that one's attitude makes all the difference when facing adversity. I can control how I react to the cancer. I can lean on God and trust him to do what is best for me. I can have peace despite a cancer diagnosis. I can learn to live with cancer and enjoy the time I am given. Without God, doubtless my attitude would be different. But I did not have to face cancer without God, and neither do you. God wants to have a relationship with each of us.

There is a cancer that invades every life. This cancer, called sin, separates us from God and dooms us to a life without him. This spiritual cancer of the human heart causes so much hurt, guilt, shame, and brokenness. God loved us so much that he gave us the cure for that cancer. He sent his son, Jesus, to take the penalty for our sins.The Bible tells us that the penalty for sin is death. Jesus died on the cross and then God raised him from the dead. If you chose to believe in Jesus as God's son, you will be cured of the cancer that dooms you to a life apart from God.

If you want to know more about how to turn your life over to Jesus, find a Bible and read the book of John. You can also PM me, and I will attempt to answer any questions you have.

Thank you for taking the time to read this missive. I hope that you have received a blessing. If you're interested in how I'm doing, send me a PM or ask me on my message board, and I'll keep you updated.

May God bless you and keep you. May He make His face to shine upon you.

Update

It is now late May, 2017. I have been under the care of Dr. Alvarez for almost nine months. In that time, the cancer has remained stable. It still shows up on x-rays but it has not grown. I feel fine and am continuing to live my life one day at a time. I have visited my sister in Alaska in December and my son in Barcelona in April. Despite the weather changes and exposure to different germs, I have remained basically healthy. I have had a few minor infections, but that is to be expected when you move to a new country. I praise God for the time He has given me and continue to follow his lead.