My biological parents were from Canada. After my grandma passed away they decided to sell everything from their inheritance and went on a tour around the world. My parents had tried for many years to have children, but after so much failure and heartbreak, they decided to abandon that dream to instead pursue a new adventure.

They pointed to the map and decided to start in Latin America. After spending a couple of years in different villages in Mexico building hospitals and schools in the rural areas, they decided to move on to the next country; Belize. They only spent six months there before continuing on to Guatemala. While being there, my mother fell sick. They thought she might have gotten a bacteria or something of the sort, but rather, she was pregnant! In light of the people in the village telling them they have done more than enough for their community, they continued on their traveling journey to celebrate the miracle of finally conceiving. 

My mom enjoyed her time taking long walks; my dad usually joined her so they could spend some quality time together. But one afternoon, he stayed back to help some people in the town to prepare and finish some things before winter came. My mom went forth on a walk of her own.

At 8 months pregnant, she slipped into a river where she was found by some of the village folks. They brought her to the hospital; the new hospital that was built by my parents. She seemed fine and managed to deliver me safely, but not long after holding me in her arms, she closed her eyes to rest and past away. Oh, I wish I could remember her!

My father grieved her loss for a long time but found strength in the idea of having me by his side. He took me everywhere with him. We were still in Guatemala when I was two years old, but we lived in a different little village surrounded by new people. Tragedy hit again when my father was struck by a rock they used to build the schools. He lost too much blood and died very quickly.

So, by the age of two, I had lost both of my biological parents. I don’t even remember them. 

I was taken in by a couple from the village for some time since they didn’t know what to do with me. One night, the people got together to decide my future; either I would stay and grow as one of them, or they would look for a way to send me back to some of my relatives. They didn’t know then, but I didn’t have any other family. My parents were both single children and now they were gone…

To be continued…

Published by lidiaaviles Copyright © 1987-2087 Lidia Aviles. All rights reserved.

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