As the weeks, days and minutes tick by since the invasion (for lack of a better word), K and I have been challenged with a myriad of emotions, ranging from euphoric gratitude to depth-defying depression. The down-side of the emotional spectrum is visited most often by me, truth be told. K, who hobbles around one-legged on a walker with a two-foot rod implanted in his left thigh, is the constant bright light in our home. He’s always been this way, god love him, through three of his cancers and my one, plus my bonus botched reconstruction.
We do a lot of processing together, discussing what was, what might have been and what may never be again. At first it was very hard to ignore all of the negative energy surrounding us in our neighborhood and our community, but with every day it gets easier. Our faith and our love are growing exponentially. When the chismes y mentirosos rage at deafening levels, we consciously remind ourselves, and reassure each other, that we are not defined by that noise. We are here for a reason, and we trust in the universe to give us strength to follow our purpose without distraction.
This is a hard lesson to learn, and I mean really learn. But it’s even harder to change those old patterns, patterns that have been embedded in my psyche for over six decades, and who knows how many lifetimes? Tough work, but well worth the effort. The alternative is to relive the past…again. Not an option for either of us. Together we are strong enough to get beyond this challenge to experience a higher spiritual awareness and an expanding vibration of love.
The most dramatic turning point in our recovery by far was the ten-day visit from our dear friends, Doug and Sharon. I felt the energy slowly shift from fear and loathing to joy and freedom – freedom to live and laugh again. To live without dreading the darkness of night or the random chirps and songs of the wildlife surrounding us. With Doug and Sharon here we were able to open our windows and our hearts, eat our meals outside on the patio again, and splash and frolic in the pool like kids. Sharon helped Phoenix overcome his fear of jumping into the water, and Doug played submarine for Rascal, who followed his underwater shadow until Doug silently resurfaced. So delightfully, euphorically, effingly Normal.
I have found some solace in the preliminary reports from OIJ, who have discounted most, if not all, of the rumors floating around the expat community about who, what and why. It’s understandable that people are scared, but it is not okay to spread lies and gossip without any relation to reality. Or truth. So be it. That’s the world we live in. If the most recent official reports prove to be true, we were the fourth community in Costa Rica to be hit by this gang of murderous thugs, who targeted small, remote communities who have no guards at their gates. The MO of our invasion fits all three that came before us…same matching fatigues, bullet-proof vests and black ski-masks. Methodically working from the top of the communities down to the bottom. They abandon their felonious spree of terror when the silence has been broken. In one community before ours, they shot two large, aggressive dogs, then abandoned robbing the remaining houses down the hill. In ours, they shot K, then hightailed it out of our hood. We pray these desperadoes are caught before more blood is shed.
Most, if not all, Ticos that we have talked to insist that these ladrones are estranjeros. Maybe Nicas, but most likely Columbianos, from their knowledge and experience of both cultures. Both possibilities are being pursued with vigor, since the US Embassy is closely following the investigation and has reached out to us directly. At this point we are turning away from the past to focus on our future…We have faith that the bad guys will be caught and dealt with at some point, and that their victims will find peace and hope for a brighter future. We trust in the universe to provide a good ending to this story. As a writer, I know just how important a good ending is.
May. 19, 2019
Judy Richter 